It’s official. We’re homeless. Or at least living off the kindness of relatives. How did Honey cope with the big move?
She put up with craziness for a long time—not knowing where her toys were, having things moving all over the house, stressed-out people keeping kooky hours. But finally, my dog Honey told us enough is enough. And something had to change. Now.
My dog Honey spent an hour watching us loading a truck. She daintily avoids walking under the stepladder in the foyer. And she barks when we’re upstairs but she can’t follow because of the plastic drop cloths on the stairs. How can we create calm in the middle of chaos for our dog. And for ourselves?