Today I took care of my best friend, Sheila's, dog and two cats, feeding them and letting Muck, the hound, out while she and her family were away at her son's wresting tournament. The animals were perplexed to have me in the house. Muck likes me; to be fair she probably likes everyone, but I think she knows me a bit and was happy, I think, just to have someone share the house with her for a couple of hours. Of course, once I let her out she stood on a snow bank in front of the house for awhile, pointing and sniffing the air for her family. Roxy, the more active of the cats, kept playing peek-a-boo around corners in an effort to simultaneously remain unseen while keeping me in her view. Pug, the old, fat, gray Persian, hissed and hid. All three at least seem pleased by the food.
When I returned home this evening my own two enthusiastically greeted me, wagging their tail and hoping for snacks. Today I felt a bit like a food dispenser, my worth measured by a jury of hungry animals. Their verdict however seemed positive -- I did well and might just be okay to have around.