Live-in nanny is a mutt-have for pets of the superrich
A new breed of carers are pampering lucky ‘dumb chums’, writes Joe Shute
OVER the past two years, Antonet Verschuren has shared her bed with a variety of canine companions. But a short stint in a luxury apartment in Kensington, London, recently put her firmly in her place. Employed by a wealthy Japanese couple to be the live-in nanny for their two miniature poodles, she discovered she had to make do with a mattress on the floor to sleep on.
The dogs, meanwhile, cuddled up together on a vast sofa bed which dwarfed their sleeping frames.
“When I asked the owners about it, they said that was what people did in Japan, but I noticed they had their own massive bed,” she says. “They were very rich, but money doesn’t always buy a certain type of hospitality.”
That may well be, but it does now buy you a dog nanny — the new “must have” for the superrich. We’re not talking casual staff employed to take the little darlings for brisk strolls through Kensington Palace Gardens, but people like Verschuren who are recruited to actually live with the dog 24 hours a day, feeding, washing and grooming them, and even sharing a room with them.
The wealthy have always been enamoured with what PG Wodehouse called their “dumb chums”, but with Britain now the superrich capital of the world — home to 104 billionaires with a combined wealth of £301-billion (about R5.3-trillion) — full-time nannies to care for their extended canine menageries have become an essential part of the hired help.
The role is something akin to that of a governess, except one entrusted with the care of a slobbering pug in a pink diamond-studded collar.
Verschuren, who set up her business West London Petsitter in 2013, operates at the top end of the market, charging £100 a day for live-in care. Often she and her “team” will take the pets out on day trips to bucolic locations such as Hampton Court Palace and snap photographs which she sends to the owners.
“What we offer is bespoke,” she says. “It really depends on what the customer wants.
“For most people, their pets are like their own children.”
Usually, dog nannies are recruited by the same families for weeks or months, on several occasions over the course of a year. A few, however, are paid to be the pet’s constant companion for years at a time.
“We have quite a lot of clients who go overseas at short notice,” says dog nanny Nina Coles, the founder of Nina’s Nannies for Pets. Like many in the business, she insists client confidentiality is paramount but admits they work for various “high-profile people in show business and the gentry” from Europe to China and Saudi Arabia.
“They will have gardeners and chefs as well, but some people just want to have somebody with experience looking after animals on their property,” she says.
“Some will be given their own annexe, or a cottage in the garden, but mostly it is just a room in the client’s property.”
Dog nanny Susannah Wheeler of Gloucestershire has a different policy. The 53-year-old moves her clients’ pets into her own cottage for 24 hours a day. She has eight dogs fighting for space on her bed every night. Mercifully, she only accepts breeds weighing less than 10kg.
Wheeler, a former TV executive, started her business seven years ago with a dog creche near Hyde Park, and counted Russian oligarchs and members of the royal family among her clients. Since moving to the country, many of her London clients have stayed on her books and she regularly travels for handovers at Paddington station.
“I have had dogs for up to three months at a time,” she says. “One of my clients is an incredibly wealthy person who owns most of the Middle East but he has a Pomeranian who can’t stand the temperature.”
The obvious terror for any nanny entrusted with such cosseted pets is what happens if something goes wrong?
A pampered Maltese enjoying a country walk must make an attractive target for other less well-bred beasts, and there is also the fear their charges may run away.
Wheeler, however, doesn’t mind an emergency. A few months ago she noticed that a Chihuahua in her care had trouble turning its head. An emergency MRI scan led to a diagnosis of bacterial meningitis. The dog made a remarkable recovery. “That is what people are paying me for,” she says.
Left in such capable hands, these dumb chums have never had it so good. Comment on this: write to tellus@sundaytimes.co.za or SMS us at 33971 www.timeslive.co.za
One of my clients owns most of the Middle East but he has a Pomeranian who can’t stand the temperature