First Few Days

Moving sucks. This is a universal truth. One of my writing teachers said, begin with a universal truth and you hook your reader. Well world, moving sucks.

There is just so much new stuff to get used to, adjusting is hard. It's pretty cool being the only dog, I get a lot of attention. I get a lot of love and a crazy amount of praise for going pee and poop outside, but I don't get away with much. Every time I try to bite a piece of furniture, they stick a toy in my mouth. I want wood, damn it!

Moving brings changes: new rules, new sleeping arrangements, new yard. I did find some wood in the new yard - sticks - and one visitor brought a pheasant wing on a string that is just too fun to chase. For a day or so I had free reign and was scooting all around, finding bark, biting the flowers and doing my best to eat a rock, but they caught me. Now, they keep me on a leash most of the time, and I still get to run, but I don't get to create nearly as much havoc.

I'm trying to get used to being left in a crate; they call it "my room" but I sort of think of the whole damn place as my room (see picture). Sometimes it's okay if I'm sleepy enough, but if I'm awake, I want out!

Speaking of out, I should go pee again and watch how excited they get - it's funny. So yeah man, moving... what can you say? For now, this is Trip, and I'm out!