Dog days of August, the COVID edition
Some of this could make you laugh. You might cry. And if you love pets, one detail is guaranteed to make you angry (at humans, not animals).
We’re going to talk about pets today. Some of this could make you laugh. You might cry. And if you love pets, one detail is guaranteed to make you angry (at humans, not animals). And if you don’t like animals, well, get outta my column.
Let’s get the angry part out of the way. I’m talking to professional dog walker Debbie Bellagamba about how her Newtown business, Petzercise, suffered during the pandemic (“everybody was home and nobody needed a dog walked”) and is now busier than ever as people embrace August 2021 as some kind of National Vacation Month.
Another contributing factor is that during this unprecedented era of social isolation, a lot of people got new pets to keep them company. That’s a good thing, for the animals and for the owners.
Then she unleashes evidence that some humans are not worthy of pets.
“I’m now hearing that shelters are packed again with people bringing back their pets,” Bellagamba says. “(They say), ‘We can’t care for them, we’re not home.’ ”
See, there actually are people who are worse than the ones who refused to wear masks in the supermarket last year.
Go ahead and howl about this. When you’re ready, we’ll move onto the laughs and the tears.
Given that Bellagamba has been in business for 17 years, I ask about funny pet names she has encountered. She answers before I finish the question.
“Kevin, the dog’s name was Kevin. I don’t know why. That struck me as funny.”
Another client had two Siamese cats.
“One of them was called ‘No. 2,’ ” Bellagamba says, cackling. “You can refer to that as ‘Poop’ as far as I’m concerned. The other cat had a normal name: ‘Bugsy.’ ”
Bellagamba posts photos of her clients (the pets, not the humans) on her company’s website. She just couldn’t bring herself to use the No. 2 moniker, “because no one would understand that.”
“So I made a fake name.” I suggest “No. 2” could be a nod to the cult television classic “The Prisoner.” For that matter, “Kevin” might have been inspired by “Minions.” But we probably don’t want to know the real answers.
Bellagamba’s client list isn’t limited to dogs and cats. She’s looked after horses, sheep and “lots of chickens” (I didn’t ask their names). Before starting her business 17 years ago, she was a dental assistant in Ridgefield. After a divorce created a need for more flexible hours to take care of her kids, she took a risk and embraced her love of animals. She started with a couple of clients each day. Before COVID hit, Petzercise was up to 27 daily dog walks.
It remains a 24/7/365 business. Early on, Bellagamba found that when holidays arrived, “I left in the morning before my kids could even open gifts.”
“If you go into this business you can’t say I’m only available mid-day or weekends or not on weekends or not at night,” she explains. “You’re going to fail.”
She counts on a dear, retired friend with a “huge” truck “because I’m the one who goes out in every blizzard and every storm. It’s a very stressful business. People think it’s so easy. It’s really not.”
Bellagamba had a staff of seven before COVID hit, and now employs five. She can’t keep up with the manic demand this month, but is wary of adding to her team because the variant “could send everyone home again.” For now, though, she’s excited that her fall schedule is filling up as clients call to report, “we need you back.” Those would be the good humans, not the ones who return their pets like unwanted tchotchkes on Dec. 26.
“I would take them all in if I could,” she says.
But she can’t (she’s not a crazy pet lady). She had three dogs before COVID, then two of them died. One was “probably the most beloved dog I ever had.”
She got that dog by accident. A man called seeking help after his daughters came home from college and “decided (he) needed a Great Dane puppy.” Since he rented, and was never home because of work, he reached out for help to place the dog in a good home.
“I always wanted a Great Dane ... I went over to meet Lucy and I fell in love. I left with her that day,” Bellagamba recalls.
She wanted to adopt another one after Lucy’s death, finally finding a litter of Puppy Danes via Facebook. For the first time, she bought a dog from a breeder, “and I felt guilty about it. It ate at me a little bit. But then I thought, ‘She’ll have a good life too.’ ”
Lucy does indeed seem to be living the good life at 10 months. In the middle of our interview, Bellagamba grunts as Lucy slides her 120-pound frame over her. My own mutt, Agatha, is looking over my shoulder like a bird dog editor as I write this, which she never does when I opine about politics. She’s making me nervous. She seems to know we’ve arrived at the sad part.
Yes, there is some unfortunate human behavior out there. There is also kindness. Bellagamba reflects on clients who invite her to share wine and conversation. Then there is the woman who is coping with the eventual outcome of the cancer that led her to call Bellagamba to walk her dogs because she just can’t.
The woman made a request like no other: “When I die, can you bring my dogs to the wake and will you take care of them so they can be by my side?”
“Of course I would do it,” Bellagamba says. “Of course I would.”