🐾 When 5 Dogs, 6 Chickens, and a Snake Took Over My Week

Adventures in multitasking, mayhem, and mops.

A week in the life of a house and pet sitter who realised there was an additional - and very important - question to ask when there’s more than one pet at a sit.  I worked with five dogs, koi carp, chickens, a tortoise, stick insects, and a snake this past week.
  

Spoiler: the snake was the least of my worries.

There are pet sits… and then there are PET sits.


The kind that start with, “They all have their quirks!” and end with you standing in your slippers, holding a mop, wondering how one house can contain this much poo before 6 a.m.

Welcome to my week on the edge of the Welsh countryside, where coffee became a survival strategy and the phrase “good dog” started to sound more like a plea.

🐶 The Cast of Dog Characters

Mabel the Leonberger – The regal matriarch of the sofa. Gentle, shy, terrified of bicycles and children, but an excellent guard dog when it came to the crime of coming near the boundary wall or just existing in the case of the dog next door. She’s often found cleaning Nell like a mother fussing over her favourite child.

Nell the Pointer – Described by her owner as “a grey bag of bones.” Allergic to many things in life but still somehow the most chill soul in the house. She spent most of her week rolling her eyes at the chaos.

Hazel the St Bernard Puppy – Imagine a giant teddy bear with a megaphone. Barks at anything that moves (or doesn’t). Wears a “DO NOT APPROACH” jacket, but honestly, people should wear one for her.

Pixie and Tilly, the Toy Poodle × Bichon × Jack Russell duo – Pixie believes barking is a full-time job, while Tilly is the diplomat of the group. Once Tilly approves you, Pixie follows suit — still barking, but only as a cry for attention and strokes.

💩 Day 1: The Biggest Poop-fest of the Countryside

The first night, I made the rookie mistake of assuming they could all sleep together peacefully.

Spoiler: they could not.

I came downstairs to what can only be described as Poo-ageddon.
 Puddles, piles, and a sense that a Poop Championship had taken place while I slept. Some of the contestants clearly went for size over style — I swear one looked like a whole loaf of bread. When I contacted the owners, they forgot to tell me that they needed separating at night because they egg each other on!

I took a deep breath (instantly regretted it), rolled up my sleeves, and wondered if this was how all great adventures start.

🏃‍♀️ The Great Hazel Escape

It was bin day. I had no idea this would matter.

On returning from a lovely calm and quiet walk, Hazel and I walked around the opposite sides of a wheelie bin… when she suddenly spotted two small dogs across the road. In the split second it took for me to adjust my grip, the lead slipped, and she was off — bins flying, recycling everywhere and me face flat on the floor before springing up like an Olympian athlete and sprinting after her. My colleague was walking Nell and cleaned up the chaotic mess left behind, with Nell looking on in amazement. It was what could only be described as Beethoven: The Live Action Remake.

Thankfully, the cul-de-sac was quiet and a dead end - and Hazel, realising her new acquaintances were not her vibe, veered off along the pavement and stopped still. With calm words, a firm tone, and the strategic deployment of chicken treats, I coaxed her back to me safely.

Lesson learned: even the best-behaved pups can surprise you — especially when bins and bravery collide.

🍽️ The Meal-Time Marathon

Feeding time was an Olympic sport.

Every dog had their own dining zone:

• Mabel in the basement (slow and dignified)
• Hazel outdoors (for volume control)
• Nell in the utility (so she didn’t hoover everyone else’s food)
• Pixie and Tilly in the kitchen (with one eye on each other’s plates)

Each meal was home-cooked: frozen meat and veg made in the pressure cooker, portioned, and delivered like fine dining.

The key was timing. Blink, and Nell would clean everyone’s plate. Hazel would bark, Tilly would steal, and Pixie would lick someone’s face in approval.

It was chaos. Beautiful, rhythmic, noisy chaos.

🐔 Morning Madness

Mornings followed a routine:

1. Let the dogs into the garden (and pray they digested their food well).
2. Breakfast — supervised like a military operation.
3. Poo patrol.
4. Feed chickens.
5. Feed tortoise.
6. Spray stick insects (every other day).
7. Collapse with coffee and question my life choices.

By Day 3, my colleague and I had the routine down to an art form. By Day 5, we were talking in shorthand, like soldiers in a very fluffy war.

🛋️ Sofa Politics

Inside, it was all about the hierarchy.

Mabel and her favourite toy of the day ruled the sofa, but the moment she heard the neighbour’s dog, she’d leap up and charge to the back door — with Hazel bouncing all over her like a toddler on a trampoline.

Nell would barely lift her head. You could almost hear her thinking, “Amateurs.”

❤️ Reflections from the Fur Frontline

By the end of the week, my arms ached, their washing machine had staged a protest, and my shoes had… seen things and fallen apart.

But I wouldn’t change it. Every single one of them had their own quirks, routines, and reasons for being the way they are.

Being a pet sitter isn’t just about cuddles (though there are plenty). It’s about patience, humour, and knowing when to sprint after a St Bernard — and when to laugh about it later.

So yes — it was chaos. But it was happy chaos.

We came, they barked, they conquered… and I’d do it all again (after a nap).


Four Paws & Fortress — Where chaos meets care, and every tail tells a story.