#pet sitter

[escucharae]

cat appreciation post of all my kitty clients I’ve been visiting lately.

[freakinngiraffe]

Dallas 🫶🏼

[rednblacksalamander]

[cosmicloyal]

I love my job!!!!!!

[ladyinevergreen]

Show off your passion for pups with this "Best Dog Walker" design! Ideal for dog walkers, pet sitters, and dog lovers, it’s a fun and stylish gift for any pet enthusiast.

Like it?

Get this design from my Redbubble shop by clicking here

[purplesoulsapphire]

Zoro Reporting for Kitty Sitting Duty 🫡🐱

Resharing from Twitter.

Belongs To Original Artist.

[medusapelagia]

05 AU-gust: Pet Sitter

Rating: Teen and up Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: none WC: 1272

“You are not listening to me! Vicky said that she is coming to Europe with me! Can’t you see how big is this? Vicky and I, traveled around France, Italy, and Spain, visiting the most romantic town ever. I can already see it: a little cafè in Paris, she orders a salad, I don’t order anything because I’m too nervous, then I drop to my knees and ask her to marry me!” Steve smiles at Robin, she has met Vicky the last semester and she is still convinced that she is the one and that they are going to get married and live happily ever after. He loves Robin, he really does, but she is too naive sometimes, so, as her platonic soulmate, his job is trying to keep her with her feet on the ground. “That’s great babe, but can I remind you that we are not even sure if she likes boobies or not?” “She does. She must! I mean! We are always together!” Steve sighs, Robin and him are always together too but that doesn’t mean that there is any physical attraction between the two of them. “So. Now that it’s clear that we are going to get married soon and that you are going to be my best man… I need a little favor.” “What kind of favor?”

“You know that Vickie works to pay for college right?” “Mmmh…” “It’s nothing too complex. She is a pet sitter, and she already told all his clients that she will not be available for a couple of weeks in August but…” “But?” “She has a client that pays really well and that doesn’t want to look for another pet sitter, so he told her that he will keep her as a pet sitter if she finds a replacement for those two weeks and I happen to know that you are not leaving for holidays this year, so I thought that maybe if it’s not too much to ask for, you could replace her for a couple of weeks.” “I have never done the pet sitter!” he tries to protest. “Well, it’s not hard. I mean, you take out the dog for a couple of hours, give him food and water, and then you go back home. Sounds pretty easy, right?” Steve doesn’t want to remind her that his only experience with pets was when he tried to convince Dsutin’s cat, Mew, to get down the stupid tree and he almost killed himself when he fell. And the cat got down on his own. She seems so fucking happy. How can I deny something to her? “Ok. But just one client!” “You are my savior Steve!”

How hard can it be doing a pet sitter job? Hard. Because Robin didn’t tell him a tiny tiny detail. This man has a dog, a huge, enormous dog that jumped at him as soon as he got into the apartment, a couple of Siamese cats (and he has seen Lily and the Trumps and he knows they are trouble!), and three fucking snakes. And they eat frozen prey. Like mice. And rats. And other things he doesn’t really want to know. Steve takes a deep breath, starting with the easy stuff: refill water for all the animals. The dog is called Ozzy, the two cats are Heatfield and Axl, judging from the name on their bowls, and he has no fucking idea what the snakes' names are but they are three fucking snakes in three different terrains. He gets closer, trying to see the snakes but they seem to be hiding. so he pours some water into their basins and takes the dog out for a walk. During the whole walk, he thinks about calling Robin and saying that he can’t do it, he is very sorry but he can’t. But then he thinks about how happy she is and he decides to help her. It’s only for a week. Then the crazy man who owns all those pets will be back and everything will be ok.

Three days into the job and the dog has almost broken his arm dragging him around the park, one of the snakes bit his hand (he shouldn’t have fed him mice with bare hands but nobody told him!) and he is searching for the cats. He is sure that they are up to some mischief. And he is proven right when he hears the sound of something like glass shattering to the ground. Cleaning the house is not one of his duties, but he will not let the pets with glass all over the house, so he follows the sound that he has heard and finds himself in a studio. The cats have knocked over an ashtray, and while he cleans up the mess he starts to notice the awards behind the desk. Platinum records, Gold records, Grammy awards. Who the hell is the owner of these pets? He gets closer, trying to read the name on the plates, but a voice makes him jump. “Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my studio?!” He grips the glass and lets out a little whimper, while the blood starts spilling. “You are the worst thief have ever seen!” the man comments, getting closer to him and examining the wound “You have some glass in the wound. I’ll get some tweezers.” “I’m not a thief! I’m a pet sitter.” “Nope. I know who my pet sitter is: a lovely girl named Vickie and you are not her.” “She is on holiday with my friend and they asked me to replace her for a few days. Ouch.” The man who is taking out the glass from his hand can’t be much older than him. Steve looks at the awards “They are all yours?” “No. I robbed them.” Steve turns so abruptly toward him that his neck cracks. “Of course they are mine. I’m quite famous, you know?” “I’m sorry but I have no idea who you are, only that I have to be sure that Ozzy gets his walk and everyone is fed and has enough water.” “So you didn’t do any research? You weren’t curious about whose house was this?” Steve shakes his head “I only got into your studios because the cats broke your ashtray. I’m sorry.” The man smiles “I should have quit years ago. This is as good a time as any.” he cleans his cut, puts a bandage on, and then says “Eddie Munson, singer and guitarist. At your service.” “Steve Harrington, librarian and temporary pet sitter.” They don’t shake hands because Steve is hurt. “Librarian, uh?” “Yeah. I’m actually on holiday but, as I told you, my friend asked me and… weren’t you supposed to be back on Monday?” “Yes I was, but the last concert was canceled and I missed my little troublemakers. Don’t worry. I’ll pay you for the entire week.” “You don’t have to…” “I insist. And you know what? I’m fucking starving! What do you think if I make sure that you are fed and have enough water?” “Sorry?” “I’d like to take you out. Any preference? Thai? Italian? Mexican?” “Oh. Everything is fine, and you don’t have to…” “What if I want to? I’d love to have a little chat with a pretty boy like you. Who knows what other secrets you are hiding?” “Oh, I don’t have any secrets…” he answers meekly. “Let me judge that.”

Years later, when Steve is being interviewed, he remembers the strange chain of events that led him to meet his husband. Everything started with a journey in Europe, some pets, and a very cool guitarist.

[twentysidednerd]

my man justin (the lizard i’ve been pet-sitting) goes home today and i am unreasonably paranoid that he got out of his terrarium somehow

there is feasibly no way he did and i know he’s just hiding real well in his leaves, but after i saw one of his crickets on my desk last night after having not seen him for a few hours, i got scared that he somehow got out after i fed him

which is. probably not true, this isn’t the first time i’ve gone a bit without seeing him but never THIS long. like i said, im 99.999% sure he’s still in there and is just doing the Lizard Thing of camouflage but anxiety brain go brrrr