Here’s what it’s like to be a dog walker in Hollywood…
I’ve been a dog walker in Hollywood for the last 20 years. It is not your typical job and it certainly is not your typical workplace.
Everyday I share a three acre dog park, tucked in to the Hollywood Hills with a handful of other dog walkers who have been in this business about as long as I have. These people are loners, travelers, artists, entrepreneurs, misfits, animal lovers, and people who refuse to work for the man. And I am all of those things. We are similar to preschool teachers working with 2 year olds. We are bullet proof against shit, puke and slobber. I once had a dog eat a big pile of poop and then puke it back up in to the gear shift of my car. If you haven’t smelled shit puke, you haven’t lived. I get peed on occasionally, I touch slimy tennis balls and I pick up a lot of poop. My immune system could fight off a zombie apocalypse and I can’t remember the last time I was sick. And no, I have not contracted COVID.
It’s not uncommon to hear phrases such as “Get your anus off my shirt” and “I’ve got to pull the grass out of his ass”. This is not a job for the faint of heart. There is no Human Resources dept. If there is a problem, you handle it.
To outsiders, it can be quite a spectacle to see hundreds of dogs running in a field like a great dog migration in the Serengeti. We even have Hollywood tour buses occasionally driving through the parking lot with tourists pointing and taking pictures like it’s a wildlife park.
Los Angeles has ideal weather for dog walkers with sunshine and relatively mild weather throughout the year. It does rain occasionally but that never stops us. For some reason, absolutely none of my clients cancel when it rains. They’re all like old school parents making their kids go out to play, regardless of the weather. “Because it burns energy and builds character.” I imagine them thinking. So off we go into a muddy field, hoping it’s not a down pour.
The rainy days are sometimes the most special though. Most other dog walkers take the day off and so we have the field, surrounded by oaks, pines and sycamores all to ourselves. Since we are at a higher elevation, there is often a low hanging fog with a misty rain.
With no one else around, the dogs and I have a heightened awareness of the rain and mist and of each other. It’s a bonding experience, playing together in the rain, then rinsing off, toweling off and riding home exhausted. It reminds of a story that Jane Goodall told about the first time she was accepted into a family of apes. She had been following them for months, so desperately trying to get closer until one day an unexpected downpour caught her and the chimps and drenched them for about an hour. When the rain stopped and the clouds parted, the sun began to shine, glistening off the raindrops on the forest leaves. She and the chimps sat silently together taking in the wonder of it all. She was accepted into their group from that day on.
That’s what it feels like when I’m with the dogs in the rain. We are a pack, a family, experiencing life in it’s most basic and beautiful form.
Of course, not all of the dogs love the rain. Certainly, the labs are in heaven but Paco, the rescued street dog, withers like a delicate flower. He was rescued from the streets and now lives in the Hollywood Hills. He’s been fattened up and raised his standards about what living conditions should be. He doesn’t do rain. He requires a sweater and a raincoat and only then will he act as if he’s not dying. He’s also the one who puked shit in my car so, I guess we’re even.
I will never grow tired of the smiling happy faces that greet me everyday as if we had been apart for a long time. That consistent love and affection that is so freely given is such a gift to have in life and work. Each one of them inspires my love and a genuine concern for their well being. They are my charges, my friends and I am one lucky girl.