Hello Woofers, Stella here! Mum’s let me use the laptop for a little while because she has “lots to organise and lots to do”. All I know is that things from the around the house keep disappearing into boxes and she’s getting through post-it notes like a thing possessed!
I have to keep checking that my stuff isn’t getting messed with. We did have a sofa blanket washing incident recently when the silly girl had one of her dizzy spells and threw coffee all over it! I’d only just got it smelling Labrador perfect and then I had to start all over again!
Anyway, these boxes seem to end up in the garage. Sometimes things get put in bags and then get put it the bin, or taken to the place she goes on a Friday morning – she doesn’t seem really happy about that, but, apparently, something called downsizing is happening. I thought she was already on a diet!
Things stopped disappearing for a couple of weeks and she was getting quite cross with something called the beeping council. But the beeping council must have sent her flowers or something because the writing lists and sorting bags and boxes has started again.
Mum keeps telling me there’s nothing to worry about, but, we’re going to be moving house. Again. I’m not getting too excited about anything because the last time she said that we ended up living at Granny and Grandad’s for 6 months and I got spoiled rotten and had a field to chase crows in and was allowed to sleep on the sofa.
Judging by the shouting and the crying and the sighing I don’t think that was the plan though. Then we moved to this house and things were OK for a while but now both Mum and I have got poorly.
That isn’t the house’s fault but Mum says she wants to live somewhere that she doesn’t have to drive as much. She thinks I believe that but we all know this moving house malarkey only started when the baby human that I see at Granny & Grandad’s house arrived. Things were fine before then!
Actually, I don’t mind the little chap. Mum is absolutely gaga about him! She doesn’t even like babies! I have to admit he is something special though and I already feel quite protective of him. I don’t like it when they put him in prison and I have to lay as close to the bars as I possibly can. I think we’ll be good friends. His eyes follow me everywhere and when he reaches his little hand out from his high chair I wish someone would let him stroke me. They all just mutter things like “there’s no telling where she’s been”, “don’t let her lick him”, and “pass a wet wipe.” I’m not sure but I think they’re being a bit rude about me!
Mum has promised me that I will still go to my favourite pet shop, and to our lovely V E T, as we’ll only be half an hour away. But, she is making enquiries locally as to the best places if there’s an emergency.
She doesn’t think we will actually move until next year though as there is quite a bit to do at our new house first. All the packing and tidying is to make this one more marketable, whatever that means. You should see the cans of Febreze and scented candles she’s stockpiling – “not everyone loves the smell of dog as much as I do Stella” – rude.
We will have lots of short walks as we won’t need to do a car ride to go to work, so that will be good for my health (and Mum’s!) and I will have new sniffs to explore. I wonder if I’ll miss the old sniffs?
Have any of you woofers moved house? Did you miss the old sniffs?