The loveliest man house/pet sitted for me while I was away. His name is Glen. Glen was my senior writer when I edited Woman’s Day. He was the nicest, most loyal employee an editor could hope to have … best of all he also delivered amazing interviews every week for the mag.
(The pic above is of Glen at The Lord Worlsley with his mate Grant Turner, which he describes on Facebook as “a wonderful establishment in a quiet nook in the heart of town. A good old fashioned pub lost in time.” Forgive me for stealing the photo guys, but it’s just toooo good.)
Among Glen’s Facebook updates about the Household pets while I was away:
“I love how I’m going to the shops to buy Scratch Mix. No, you don’t get it from the Chemist, and no, it’s not for my chafing problem! It’s for the Chooks. It’s a premium seed and pellet mix with added shell grit – but you already knew that! I love how I’m also going to the shops to buy meadow hay. Much more fun than the usual dross that goes into the shopping trolley.”
“How good is Rake? I sat in the chair with Charlie, the dog I am currently looking after, and we were having such a good time, the chooks and rabbits let themselves in. We ate cheese and dip, drank beers and dug each other in the ribs at all the scenes we could relate to. What a great show. Well, of course, the chooks weren’t quite ready for bed, so now we’re all listening to Status Quo while watching the rabbits drink carrot shots.”
“After brekky, Charlie likes to lull his toy Joey into a false sense of security, before hurling him insanely around the house. Then he fixes his crazed stare at me as if to say, ‘Now, it’s your turn.'”
“I don’t know what sort of dog [Charlie] is apart from human. Just look at him. How could you not love him. I love how he can drive you to the point of complete annoyance and then he just melts your heart by being so affectionate and vulnerable. I’m also enjoying the chooks and bunnies. All are so tame and very friendly. Today I sat in the chook run and they all came up to say hello and have a chat.”
“The chooks who come to the window to snigger and mock me.”
“This is Charlie, and as long as I give him 100 per cent attention and share everything with him, he assures me we’ll get along fine. He’s just too, too cute.”
He also left a note on the dining table saying: “Welcome home. It has been heaps of fun. I love your pets! Charlie had a shower and shampoo yesterday, which he seemed to enjoy … All have been fed and watered this morning. Sheets have been washed and are back on the very comfortable bed. Well, I guess its time to say goobye to my mate – very sad …”
I’ve since called him to say thank you in person and he’s generously offered to come and house/pet sit again anytime. (Now that’s he’s made his peace with Charlie insisting on sleeping with him and barking the house down hysterically whenever he steps outside without him.) How awesome is that?
Mind you, there were also embarrassing elements to Glen staying … Like us coming home to a house scented with vanilla, opening the fridge and discovering that our poor housesitter had taken it upon himself to cleanse our fridge of the Ebola virus (it was really, really bad in there). I may not have to buy a new one now with our inheritance, the old one looks so fab.
Then yesterday, as I was cutting up fruit salad, I discovered the knives now slice rockmelon like they’re soft butter … because Glen has obviously sharpened them … whereas we were too content/lazy to bother and simply hacked away at everything.
And Charlie’s also soooooo much more zen and well-behaved since having Glen as his master for 10+ days … What does that say about his usual carers?
Thank you Glen. I am a fortunate woman to have you in my life.