I’m a big believer in prevention—but also in paying enough attention to react when prevention meets real life. My home has a large, fully fenced yard that Mario and I use as our outdoor living space. Over time, I’ve continued adapting it based on what I actually observe rather than assuming that because something should keep a dog contained, it always will. When Mario demonstrated that the small gap beneath a fence was apparently plenty of room to begin an unauthorized neighborhood outreach program, I added guards along the bottoms of the fencing. When gardeners or anyone else needs the garage opened, an additional folding barrier covers the temporary gaps. Gates stay secured while work is happening, and the people who regularly come onto the property know the routine: Mario gets his mandatory affection, barriers go up, dogs go in, work begins. I also have cameras covering the outdoor space as another layer—not because I expect disaster, but because I want to know when something changes. Unexpected motion at night progressively gets my attention through the house and outdoor lights and eventually my phone. Usually I’m not looking for an intruder; I want to know whether an animal entered the yard, weather shifted something, fencing moved, or a gate isn't sitting the way it should. That’s generally how I approach safety: prevent what I can, notice what changes, and react before a small problem gets the opportunity to become a big one. This is also a real home in a real LA neighborhood, not a sealed dog-care facility. Guests staying in a separate studio cross the courtyard when coming and going. My neighbors and I have long maintained fencing and boundaries so their small dog stays on their side and ours stay here. Neighborhood cats occasionally hop fences on their way home. Dogs bark. Deliveries happen. Wildlife exists. Life occasionally ignores the plan. So while I take managing the environment seriously, I also need dogs staying here to encounter normal surprises without becoming dangerous. That doesn’t mean perfectly trained, never anxious, or friends with every creature they meet. A dog who needs redirection, space, patience or thoughtful introductions can be completely workable. Aggression is different. I cannot host a dog whose response to an unexpected dog, cat, person or ordinary neighborhood stimulus could reasonably be to attack. Once you leave your dog with me, managing everything I reasonably can becomes my responsibility—and I take that part seriously.

Tell me what a good day looks like for your dog and we’ll start there. I’m not particularly interested in sending them to doggy summer camp if their idea of a vacation is sleeping until noon. I work from my laptop much of the day, and when LA weather cooperates, my preferred office is outside—sometimes quite literally from the pool. The yard has become my accidental Eat, Pray, Love project since moving back to LA, except apparently I chose dirt. I cleared and leveled our side, de-weeded it, cleaned up the concrete and turned it into somewhere Mario and I actually live rather than simply a place a dog gets sent out to pee. There’s enough room to give a tennis ball a proper launch, plus pavers and turf, patches of real grass Mario has personally selected as premium real estate, lounge chairs, an outdoor blanket, and an indoor/outdoor ottoman he uses as his observation deck beside the pool. So a day can include walks, fetch, yard time, playing with Mario, lounging outside while I work, following me around, naps inside, or some combination thereof. For dogs who already enjoy the water and are comfortable swimming, supervised pool time is absolutely an option—and I will happily attempt to produce an unnecessarily good vacation photo for you. For dogs who aren't swimmers, the pool simply isn't part of their itinerary. Access is controlled and swimming is supervised. Some dogs want entertainment. Some want companionship. Some want to lie ten feet away and monitor your activities while pretending they aren't emotionally invested in your whereabouts. I'm good with all three. And you’ll hear from us. Expect photos and updates that show your dog has actually settled in and is enjoying themselves—not simply confirmation that they remain alive and accounted for. The goal isn’t for your dog to have my perfect day. It’s for them to have a pretty great version of theirs.