Pwincess Pwecious Pet-Sitting Sewvices

Pet Sitting, and Korean BBQ
Aren’t Fur Kids the result of furries getting down to buisness?

Camp Ringworm

12 weeks of being yelled at by R. Lee Ermey and your cats don’t graduate until they pull a sled in the Iditarod.

Special Fur Kids…?

This sounds suspiciously like my mother, who refers to our dog as “her third child”.

:smack:

Them, I’d hire!

Sorry to have to do this, Mrs. Parker, but here’s one more:

The Furry Godmother.

It’s a local pet sitting service. My wife saw their business card while we were at the vet’s once, and thought well, if we ever need a pet sitter…

I’m picturing a woman in a pink princess dress waving a magic wand at our cats who are dumbstruck that we would allow them to be left in the care of this person. It ain’t a pretty picture.

Another vote for the barfing smiley.

So I did a search for pet sitters in my area. I feel ill.

[ul]5 names containing “Pawsome” “Pawsitively” and/or “Purrfect”[/ul]
[ul]3 names containing “Critter Sitter”[/ul]
[ul]3 names containing “Pet Nanny” or “Pet Au Pair”[/ul]
(Your pet sitter can end up as a Law & Order inspiration by shaking the poodle because he Wouldn’t. Stop. Whining.)
[ul]Doody Free Pet Sitting[/ul]
[ul]Fur-st Class Pet Sitters[/ul]
[ul]Kennel Des Les Anges[/ul]
(Extra points for nauseating pretension)
[ul]Susan the Kitty Kuddler[/ul]
(It’s supposed to be “kute”. I hate “kute”.)

Just reading about it, and imagining it if I tried to put the Neville kitties in clothes, made me crack up :smiley:

Damn, ain’t Zeeke just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?

Well, it would have been more difficult to puke on the dog’s feet as it was in the child seat of a smaller-than-average shopping cart. She’d built it a nest of blankets and it was sitting there like your average toddler.

So at first glance, you could easily mistake the GAP-attired mutt for a human child.

She wasn’t anywhere near a grocery store either. I think she was basically using the cart as a shudder stroller.

Eve, I wish I thought you were exaggerating.

And I’m another vote for Little Nemo’s “It’ll Still Be Alive When You Come Back.”

Oh, that reminds me. One day walking home, I saw a car with stickers on the sides and back for a pet sitter. They simply said “Cat Lady”.

Sure you weren’t searching the Adult section of your local rag?

Her real name is Karen, but calling the “KKK” to sit for your cats wasn’t going over . . .

Could be worse. Could be “Susan the Kute Kitty Kuddler. (No Black Cats, Please.)”

Krap.

I often watch my friend’s dog and stay overnight when she goes out of town.

I should call my service a very straightforward name: Sure, what the heck? I’ll watch your dog and look at it as a vacation from my usual digs.

No cutesy allowed!

Uncute Dog Sitters. Mastiffs and Bulldogs a Specialty.
:slight_smile:

Clearly you lack initiative.

My parents are like this with their American Standard poodle. They treat it like their third child. They throw birthday parties for it. With entertainment and doggie cakes. They refer to it as my “brother.”

I hate that dog.

They’ve never been like this with any other pet we’ve ever had. I’m at a total loss as to why this one gets the treatment.

Petsitter popping in here. The hardest part of my job is dealing with Pwecious Pwincess-types. If you, as their pet-care professional, don’t get in on the cutesy-poo act, they think you don’t care. I have done my share of baby-talking to land my paychecks. I can only say that the look of relief on the dog/cat’s face when “Mommy” walks out the door is unmistakeable.

Dear, Og! I would be so offended.

I’m an animal lover, truly. When finances were tight, Fatcat and Stinkerbell (okay, NOT their real life names) always ate better than I did and always got top notch vet care. I’ve volunteered for foster programs that saw me raise two very stinky baby raccoons. I melt at the sight of kittens.

But I will not EVER refer to my fuzzy companions as “my babies”, “my children”, “special fur kids”, or the “furry fruit of my loins”.

I find it irksome when someone refers to Fatcat and Stinkerbell as “brother” and “sister” when they are actually reluctant buddies at best.

If Mom_Crayons called Fatcat my “brother” it would disgust me beyond words.

Gah! They are my friends sure, but they not my “children”! I did not go “push, push” and pop out a kitten in the birthing room. Yeesh!

And a poodle! Oh, poor Otto! (I’m sure you have much better hair.)