Tag Archives: dog

From Tech Writing to Dog Sitting

In December 2024, after more than 35 years, I stopped working as a technical writer.

I hesitated to call myself “retired” because I wasn’t sure that was true. I felt burned out but didn’t know whether the burnout would last. Maybe I just needed some time.

A month or so after I stopped working, I published a collection of essays, poems, and short stories I’d worked on for years in my spare time. That was fun. I worked with an editor, learned about self-publishing, and published my book on Amazon. The entire endeavor took a few months.

After that, I did a lot of sitting around—so much so that I considered reentering the workforce. I even took a few interviews.

Retirement taught me what I already knew: I’m not a “project guy.”

I don’t have a workshop in my basement, I don’t tinker with cars, I’m not a hobbyist in any sense, and I’m about as “handy” as Captain Hook. So, retirement became a bit of a vacuum for me – a lot of time with nothing to fill it with.

To make things worse, my wife retired shortly after me, and it turns out that she is a “project guy (or gal).”

Unlike me, my wife finds things to do every day. She’s in constant motion – organizing the basement, digging in the garden, putting up bird feeders. I’d be sitting on the couch, watching the news or Sports Center, and I’d look up and see my energetic wife in the yard, weeding, feeding, and seeding with purpose.

I felt like a lazy lump. She’d come in from the outside with a smile on her face and say, “It’s a beautiful day out there,” not necessarily wanting me to join her but wanting me to at least get off my ass.

Caring for our dog Pepsi kept us both busy during those early months of retirement. We spent a lot of time and energy helping Pepsi navigate illnesses and old age until that dreadful day when we had to put her down. It was a tough time for both of us. I’m thankful I was retired when all of that went down.

Though I miss Pepsi immensely and miss the joy of k9 companionship in general, it was freeing not to have that 24/7 responsibility for the first time in 12 years. But after a few months, I began to think it would be nice to have a dog again, leading me to Rover.

Rover is a pet-sitting, boarding, and walking service.

I thought to myself, “I love dogs, I know I’d be good at this, it’s going to get me off my butt, and we have a pretty good setup logistically (large, enclosed back yard with two dog-loving people who are home all the time).

I’ve been a Rover rep since January 2025, providing mainly boarding services, but I’ve also walked a few dogs.

Rover allows me to set my schedule, so I can block off weeks or months at a time in case I do suddenly become a project guy (unlikely) or if my wife and I decide to take a vacation, all while putting some spending money in my pocket.

Rover helped fill the hole Pepsi’s death left in my heart with an opportunity for K9 companionship while providing a service to pet owners looking for a warm, safe, and loving environment for their pets.

Honestly, it’s been a win-win.

So far, my clients include a loveable and playful hound mix named Cooper, a quiet and reserved basset/shepherd mix named Rene, a timid lab mix named Millie, a gentle geriatric bulldog named Tucker, and an enthusiastic, boundlessly energetic, and inquisitive German Short Haired pointer named Birdie.

I’ve had several Meet and Greets that have resulted in bookings through the Summer.

Each dog has its own personality, and it’s been a joyful experience watching them adjust to me and learning how to adjust to them. All of the dogs I’ve boarded so far have acclimated fairly quickly—they become comfortable in a day or two.

Our house feels more like a home with a dog on the couch or sunning themselves on the back patio.

I’m sensitive to the fact that every dog that an owner drops off is probably feeling some anxiety, at least initially. My wife and I do our best to give the dogs the space to explore our house and become comfortable with new and unfamiliar surroundings. I try to keep the house quiet (maybe some soft music).

I’m discovering that when a dog is comfortable with where they are, they become comfortable with me, and that’s when I can begin building trust by going on walks, sitting together on the couch, or playing fetch in the backyard.

When it’s time for my K9 guests to leave, I feel a tinge of sadness, but mostly, I’m happy that I could provide them with a loving and welcoming place to stay while their owners are away.

Every pet owner I’ve dealt with has been great. I provide daily updates with videos and pictures and converse with them over the Rover app.

Being a Rover rep has been an emotionally uplifting experience while providing a much-needed distraction from the chaos in our country and the world.

Missing You Immensely

After more than eleven years of love and devotion, we had to put our beloved Pepsi down on Sunday.

Over the next several weeks, I’ll miss the routine I had with Pepsi for the last eleven years – all the daily interactions – from when I woke to when I went to bed.

Our pets affect us in ways that the people in our lives do not. Our relationship with them isn’t complicated by ego, insecurities, or pettiness. There are no traps, tripwires, or pretentiousness because our pets love us unconditionally. More significantly, they allow us to love with no contingencies—something we’re incapable of doing with people—no matter the relationship.

So, when our pets die, that pure and unblemished love and devotion disappears from our lives. The grief is so profound that it wrecks us for a time.   

How We Came to Know and Love Pepsi

In 2013, months after losing our lab, Walter, to Cancer, I found myself searching for shelter dogs. As I remember, it was just a whim; I had no intentions of adopting.

I have no recollection of what I typed for my Google search – but I ended up on this Facebook post:

The post included a link to this video, showing Pepsi and a shelter volunteer:

Pepsi – YouTube

Unfortunately, as often is the case with Pitbull and Pitbull mixes, a NYC animal shelter put this sweet girl on their kill list.

As I watched the video of Pepsi, I felt an immediate obligation to contact Second Chance Rescue to get her off “the list.” So, I corresponded with them through their Facebook page, which initiated a sequence of events (filling out an application, putting down a deposit, and having a consultant visit our home to ensure it was a suitable environment) and ended with the ASPCA transporting Pepsi from Brooklyn, NY, to the Mystic Aquarium parking lot in Mystic CT, where she went from a dog on a video to a cherished member of our family.

Second Chance Rescue of NYC rescues and rehabilitates critically injured and neglected dogs and cats and those at high risk of euthanasia.

The Reilly’s picking up Pepsi in Mystic, CT

Pepsi was our first experience with the pitbull breed. The consultant from Second Chance Rescue told us that Pepsi should be the only dog in the household. We quickly learned of her distrust of other dogs, but of people, her affection was undeniable. She developed a strong bond with our family almost instantly, especially with my wife, Meg.

Pepsi’s mood spanned the spectrum from stoic and intimidating to warm and loving.

Her smiling eyes could melt the coldest of hearts.

She was loving, observant, doting, and intelligent. She was also deaf and, thus, the quietest dog we’ve ever owned.

I work from home, so Pepsi was my constant companion for more than 11 years. She loved resting on the recliner next to my work desk, stretching out on our bed, sleeping and sunbathing on the patio, going for walks, lounging in the yard, and crunching on carrots.

She chased squirrels and bunny rabbits and killed a groundhog behind the shed one summer.

If Meg was outside, Pepsi wanted to be outside. She would dutifully follow Meg to her gardens and lie down in the shade while Meg weeded, planted, or watered. When Meg was done, she would follow her back into the house. Every time Meg went to the bathroom, Pepsi would follow her. If Meg locked the door, you could hear Pepsi knock her head into it from the living room. If Meg happened to leave the latch off, well, she had a visitor.

We will miss Pepsi deeply – we’ll miss seeing her navigate the swivel chair as she walks from the kitchen to the living room in search of hugs – we’ll miss the gentle snoring and weight of her in the bed – we’ll miss the sound of rhythmic hopping as she descends the staircase from the upstairs bedroom to the kitchen, ending with the slight sliding and clicking of her nails when she reaches the kitchen – we’ll miss watching her morning routine, slowly walking the perimeter of the yard, we’ll miss the thump of her tail on the bed or the recliner – we’ll miss how she helped connect us as a family – I think that’s the most magical thing a family dog does – they connect us because we all love them in the same way.

Dogs bring out our humanity and kindness in ways people don’t.

Even before putting Pepsi down, I said that she’d be my last dog. This time around, the slow decline was more challenging to deal with emotionally and physically. In her final months, Meg and I carried Pepsi from room to room, putting off the inevitable as long as we saw a spark of life or tiny moments of enjoyment—until the day they no longer came.

Maybe my feelings will change over time, and my longing for a dog’s love will outweigh the sadness I know I’ll feel when we part. For now, I’ll simply cherish what I had with this wonderful dog.

I’m so grateful for Pepsi’s love and companionship to our family, and I will never forget her.

Rest in Peace, Pep. You were the best!