Trust Me.

Every few months I get a call to come take care of "Magnus" for the weekend. Magnus is a very large, young, male, dark, Cane Corso or sometimes called an Italian Mastiff. I really enjoy taking care of Magnus,...after that first visit of the weekend. I am never sure how that visit will go. Magnus has always been good with me, but he has also been very protective when his owners are home. Magnus is owned by the nicest couple, and best customers a pet sitter could hope to know. Most of all Magnus spends his time waiting for his people to come home.

I turn the key in the door with my heart bouncing around behind my ribs. As I enter I talk to Magnus as if he were a poodle and he eyes me warily. He makes more eye contact with me than I am comfortable with, and he freezes. These are the cues I have come to know can mean curtains for the pet sitter. I break eye contact and keep talking as I head to the kitchen chair and sit. Magnus follows me; walking like he's wearing a suit of wood. The visit goes fine from there. I walk him where I think we can be alone as I am sure he could pull me off my feet to get to another dog. Each visit after the first goes better and better. One visit I invite him to play by jumping and squatting, and Magnus almost agrees. He quickly twists a little and looks at me as if to say, "Thanks, but I don't really get you Ms. Pet Sitter. "

I enjoy Magnus as he reminds me of all the Rottweilers I loved long ago. Rotties can be so stiff at first, but once you're in you're in for life. I have to stop myself from kissing Magnus on the cheek by reminding myself that this isn't one of those Rotties. Magnus is so absolutely devoted to his owners and it warms my heart to see such love between man and beast.