We're friends, right? Then I guess it's okay for this Roswell home stager to tell you that I'm not a pet lover. Apparently, the animals realize this and treat me accordingly. Like yesterday, for instance.
I went to a client's home in Roswell to take photos, measurements and match colors for a home staging job. My instructions were to enter the house through the garage, which I did. As I opened the door going from the garage into the kitchen, a cat ran out of the house. At first it lingered a few moments, just sort of prancing around, but then, just as the garage door was almost closed, out it scooted. I immediately put the door back up and there it sat in the driveway, giving me the "look."
For a brief moment I tried to sweet talk the cat into coming to me, but, as I said, the animal seemed to know that I wasn't fond of cats. I made it to within 5 feet of him when he ran away. It was in that split second that I realized this was a serious situation. I called for the cat, looked for the cat, enticed the dog in the back yard to help me find the cat, but no luck. What to do?
I went into the home, took my measurements and completed the rest of the work, then built up my nerve to call the homeowner to report what had happened. The call went into voicemail. My message said something like, "Andrea, when I opened the kitchen door the cat ran out of the house. I can't find him. I'll be leaving in 10-15 minutes. What should I do?" At this time I was getting a little worried realizing the seriousness of the situation.
When it was time to go, I looked for and called the cat again. No sign of him. I had another appointment, so I couldn't hang around. I called the homeowner again and left another message. I put the garage door down and pulled out of the driveway as sheer panic seized me.
Throughout the afternoon as I was going from one Atlanta color consultation to the next, I phoned Andrea, only to get her voice mail each time. I began to pray for the safety of the cat. I called my friend Tonya who runs a rescue mission for stray, wounded, and abused animals and asked her what to do. She volunteered to immediately leave work to help me find the cat; that is, until she realized the home was in Roswell. (She works in Gainesville.) By this time I was frantic.
About 30 minutes later I arrived home and made my final call to the homeowner stating, "Andrea, I am worried sick about your cat. Please call ASAP to let me know if you have found him and if he's alright." Of course, I was beginning to have visions of the cat splattered on the road somewhere. This was not looking good. To think that I was responsible for my client's lost (and maybe dead) cat!!! It was too much.
About 30 minutes later, when I was about to check myself into the hospital with chest pains, the phone rang. It was Andrea. She apologized profusely for not calling earlier. She worked through lunch and hadn't checked her cell phone all day! What she said next brought tears to my eyes. "The cat is a stray that I need to adopt. The girls were supposed to let him out this morning. He doesn't stay in the house during the day while we're gone because he fights with our other cat. Everything's fine. Don't worry." Whew! I have never been so relieved in all my life. I thanked the Lord for taking care of the cat and texted Tonya to let her know the crisis had passed. She wanted to leave work anyway.
My husband's comment when I shared the story with him? "Just don't add Pet Sitting to your list of services." Very funny.
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