I never thought I’d say this, but I actually enjoyed being a fur babysitter!

Family and friends know that I’ve never been particularly inclined toward caring for pets. It’s not that we didn’t have them—we most certainly did. Over the years, our household was home to all sorts of creatures: puppies and kittens, birds, guinea pigs, an assortment of fish, and, at one point, even a hedgehog.

I never really warmed up to them. I was busy looking after four human beings; I didn’t have the time or the strength to form an attachment with another one. 

But of course, never say never.

My children grew up, I found myself with a little more time, and sure enough, my mommy instinct kicked in when faced with the adorable creature that is Moscato, my eldest daughter’s bichon frisé.

Just look at her face, isn’t she absolutely adorable? 

When my eldest daughter’s family needed someone to look after Moscato, I readily agreed. Spending a week with her seemed like a good idea, especially since it happened to be a particularly challenging week at work.

I’d come home in the evening and find her standing by the door, yapping and barking away. With her wide eyes and wagging tail, she seemed genuinely happy to see me. I’d scoop her up, flop down on the sofa, and rub her belly. Instead of reaching for my phone—the first thing I usually do when I get home—we’d cuddle for a while. There was something nice about spending a few quiet minutes with this little ball of fluff.

On days when I worked from home, she would sit quietly beside me. Every now and then, she’d inch closer, then start licking my hands and eventually my face. A few minutes later, her automatic feeder would dispense her food, and I’d realize what was going on.

She was hungry.

Apparently, the fact that I had been munching on snacks earlier had not escaped her notice. She had probably caught the scent on my hands and decided that if I wasn’t going to share, she might as well remind me that it was mealtime.

Sometimes, we’d watch television together. Yes, she would actually sit down and stare at the screen intently. I often wondered what thoughts were going through her head as we watched a bunch of senior citizens trying to make sense of the sudden death of their neighbor.

We were watching The Boroughs.

Was she following the mystery? Or was she simply fascinated by the colors and sounds coming from the screen? I’ll never know, but for those few moments, it felt as though we were each trying to make sense of the series in our own way.

I also discovered that Moscato likes to sleep before ten o’clock.

I’d be sitting in the living room, writing away, when she would suddenly start barking at me. At first, I couldn’t figure out what she wanted. She’d bark, lie down on the carpet, then start wiggling.

Eventually, I realized what was going on.

It was bedtime.

The moment I got up and headed toward the bedroom, she sprang to her feet and bounced alongside me, pleased that I had finally taken the hint.

Moscato is a lovely companion. More than anything, she reminds me to take a pause. Every so often, she would rest her head on my elbow and look at me intently. It’s her way of saying, “Close the laptop and play for a bit.”

At bedtime, she would snuggle up beside me. She’s a deep sleeper and never wakes up when I have to make one of my middle-of-the-night trips to the bathroom. She’s also an early riser, but somehow manages not to wake me up. I would open my eyes in the morning and find that she’d been up and about on her own. She understood, perhaps, that Lula needed more shuteye. 

Yes, I enjoyed being a fur babysitter, most definitely.

Somewhere between the belly rubs, the television marathons, and being ordered to go to bed before ten, I was gifted with a different kind of affection—one that asks for very little and gives back far more than I could have ever imagined.

PHOTOS FROM IG: MOSCATO.FRISE