Cooler Temps; Warmer Humanity

I’m not sure if it’s my childhood as an only, my innate introversion, my visceral dislike of Texas summers, the peace I find when near water, my kinship with felines, my remote work situation, or some combination of the above, but halfway through last month, I decided I needed a change. I love my husband, my own two cats, my Texas family/friends, and the routine of my life, yet gauging my mood by the number on my thermostat and racing between indoor destinations to avoid parking lots and driveways was turning me into a human I didn’t like.

Last spring, a colleague introduced me to the “Trusted Housesitter” app, and since that day, I’ve been obsessively voyeristic about potential pet sitting jobs around the globe. The premise is simple: download the app, pay a nominal fee to join, build a profile (including background check), and apply to sit for someone’s pet/s. No money changes hands; pet owners get free sitters; pet lovers get free lodging. Yes, the entire transaction takes place between total strangers.

Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve had my share of moments in the past few years, where I was pretty convinced that roughly 6 out of 10 people in the world were a**holes. There’s no shortage of evidence to support this notion when skimming the socials or watching the news. I can understand why some might have viewed this app and the societal leap it required as a bridge too far.

But – see paragraph #1. Texas summer (hottest in ages), introvert, cat lover, fan of cheap travel, etc… On a particularly steamy day in July, I decided the risk was worth it. God bless my husband for his acceptance that he married a half-crazy woman and that resistance would be futile.

Searching the app for basically any location north of the Mason-Dixon, I found felines “Shula” and “Jazzy” along the western Michigan coastline in a little beach town that looked small (but not exactly rural). Their mom’s profile was nice, and after a brief correspondence and FaceTime date, the gig was booked. My flight and rental car were my only expenses, and I arrived at the kitties’ home after their mom had departed. I found detailed notes, a clean apartment, and two skeptical cats.

For 11 days, I enjoyed walks to the beach (wearing sweatshirts!!!), read 5 books, talked with friendly, elderly locals who walked daily on the boardwalk, made friends with waitresses who’d grown up in the town, drove to more nearby beaches, small towns, and state parks than I can count, went to see Barbie at the local theatre run by volunteers (seriously!), made a day trip up north to see my Indiana family on their last day of summer vacation, and I napped. Lots of naps.

(Side note: Unexpectedly during these 11 days my company laid me off- leading to more books and napping than planned- but that story is for another blog.)

For 4 additional days, one of my daughters joined me and worked remotely by day and let me be her tour guide by night. By this point I was (almost) a local!

Today, we said goodbye to Shula and Jazzy (who had eventually decided I was a suitable substitute), cleaned up the apartment, left their mom a thank you gift, and drove in our refreshed state back to the airport.

I’m not yet ready to say our world is completely a**hole-free. There are still signs (and flags) that serve as evidence of souls in need of softening. However, this month I’m returning to my “normal” life with a rested soul, a full heart, sandy flip flops in my suitcase, new friends in Michigan, and a bit more warmth toward humanity. Also an eagerness for Friday night lights and the weather that accompanies it.