When I walk into a client's home for the first overnight, the first ten minutes set the tone. If everything I need is sitting on the kitchen counter in plain sight, I can settle in and be with the pets right away. If I'm hunting through cabinets for kibble, the dogs notice that I'm not focused on them.
This post is the short version of what to leave out — literally on the counter or next to the food bowl — so the first ten minutes are calm.
The one-page care sheet
This is the most important thing on the list. A single sheet of paper, printed or handwritten, with:
- Your name, the pet's name, and your cell number.
- Feeding schedule and amounts ("1 cup kibble at 7 a.m. and 6 p.m., scoop into the green bowl").
- Walk and potty schedule.
- Medications, doses, and times.
- Anything they're not allowed to have — foods, places in the house, off-limits couches.
- Quirks the sitter should know ("hides under the bed during thunder," "barks at the mail truck — that's normal").
- Your vet's name, phone number, and the nearest 24-hour emergency vet.
If you've sent me this digitally already, that's great — but a printed copy on the counter is what I actually reach for at 6 a.m.
Medications, organized
If your pet takes meds, set them up in the order they're given. A small basket on the counter labeled with the pet's name, with the bottles inside, is the gold standard. If multiple pets take meds, separate baskets.
Bonus points for:
- Pre-cut half-pills if the dose is half a tablet.
- A small bag of pill pockets or a jar of peanut butter (vet-approved, no xylitol).
- A note card inside the basket that repeats the dose and time, in case the care sheet wanders.
If a med is in the fridge, leave a sticky note on the basket pointing to it.
Food, easy to find
Show me where the kibble is. If it's in a bin, set the scoop on top. If it's in the original bag, fold the top down so it's obvious. Treats in one container, training treats in another — labeled if they look similar.
If your pet eats a fresh or raw diet, leave the next two days of meals visible on the top shelf of the fridge with a sticky note ("Bella — Saturday a.m." / "Bella — Saturday p.m.").
Leashes, harnesses, and the "go bag"
A small hook or bin by the back door with the harness, leash, poop bags, and a folded hand towel covers 95% of what's needed for walks. If you have a Halti, a long line, or a specific walking setup, leave it in the spot you normally use.
If your dog has a "vet bag" or an emergency kit, leave it where it lives and tell me about it at the Meet & Greet.
Vet info — written down twice
I want it on the care sheet and somewhere a paramedic could find it if something happened to the pet while you were out of the country and unreachable.
The fridge magnet is a classic for this reason. Name of vet, address, phone. Name of emergency vet, address, phone. Microchip number if you have it.
House info — quietly important
These are the small things that tend to be missing on day one:
- Gate codes — for the neighborhood gate, the side-yard gate, the garage keypad, the storage area. If a code expires or rotates, please tell me before you leave.
- Wi-Fi password — written on the care sheet. Photo and video updates upload faster on your network.
- Trash and recycling day — and which bin is which. In Raleigh that varies by route, and I'd rather ask once than guess.
- Spare key location — tell me, even if I have a copy.
- Alarm code and quiet-hours instructions — if your security system has them.
- Thermostat preferences — what's normal so I don't accidentally set it 5 degrees off.
- Anything that's "broken but we live with it" — the back porch light that flickers, the deadbolt that sticks, the door that doesn't latch unless you lift the handle. Tell me.
What you don't need to leave out
You don't need to leave food for me. You don't need to leave money. You don't need to leave a thank-you card (lovely when it happens, never expected).
You also don't need to leave the house spotless. I'd much rather walk into a normal lived-in home with the right info on the counter than a magazine-perfect home with the meds buried in a closet.
The one-minute test
Before you walk out the door, do this: stand in the middle of your kitchen and ask yourself, "If I had to leave right now and explain my pet's day to a friend in 60 seconds, where is everything I'd point to?"
If the answer is "all visible from where I'm standing," you're set.