This is the note I left for every new sitter who cared for my dogs, Arnie and Cody, back when I traveled for my corporate job. It's still what I leave for sitters when I have to leave Cody, I've never taken Arnies name off of it, couldn't bare to.
Every trip meant trusting someone new. So every trip, they got this note. Then I walked them through it in person. Then I texted them about six more things on my way to the airport.
Here's a little of what made the list.
How to walk Cody. He could be a little leash reactive, and I knew exactly why. If you held him back, he got edgy. If you kept the leash loose and told him "go say hi," he greeted every dog like a gentleman.
Arnie and loud trucks. When a motorcycle roared by, he would stop and back up. So I told sitters to wait, tell him he's okay, and start walking again.
The soup. Their food got warm water mixed in until it looked like runny oatmeal. It sat for three minutes, then got toppers. Cody got five to seven. Arnie got three to five.
The greenie. Every time I left the house, they got a treat. They expected it, so every sitter needed to know.
And my favorite, Arnie's tricks. Sit, stay, down, paw, roll over, spins, high five, and jump, with the hand signal for each one. Arnie loved showing off so much he usually tried them all at once. I could not stand the thought of him going a whole week without anyone asking for his tricks. So I wrote down exactly how to cue him for every single one.
What that note was really saying
Reading it now, I see what it actually was. It was the shape of my dogs' normal day: how they walked, how they ate, what made them feel safe, and what made them HAPPY. I wanted them to keep living their best life while I was gone.
My favorite part of coming home was hearing things like "Arnie is quite the cuddler," or "they slept with me every night," or "he really loves doing his tricks." That's when I knew someone had read every line.
Now I'm the one reading the note
Today the instructions come to me, and I love every one of them. One client asks me to warm their dog's bone broth for exactly 20 seconds. Another asks me to change the water at every visit and keep it high enough for her tiny dog to reach, because she worries about her.
Arnie was ten pounds, so I know how particular little dogs are to care for. When she told me that, I started sending her a photo of her little one drinking. I know that feeling, and I know the exhale that comes with seeing your dog lapping up water when you're far away.
These requests never feel like too much to me. They feel familiar. Your dog is family, and the details are how you love them.
The question I ask every owner
That's why one of my favorite questions at every meet and greet is simple: what gives your dog the best day ever? A trip to the dog store? A frozen Kong with peanut butter? Nose work with treats rolled up in a towel?
Whatever makes your dog light up, and whatever you'd feel sad about them missing while you're away, I want to know. Then I build it into every visit.
This is the care I teach every Montana Tails sitter. Whoever walks through your door will read your instructions the way I read mine: every line, gladly, and with your dog's best day in mind.
Send me your list
If you have three pages of instructions, a few extra texts on the way to the airport, and a dog with a very specific way of doing things, I'd love to meet you both. The longer the list, the better.