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.
The Dog In The Dark
Honey continually amazes me with her intelligence. But as smart as she is, she doesn’t understand me when I tell her why everything is changing.
I can’t explain that we’re selling everything, including the house, so we can buy a new home. One that floats. And sails.
And that once we do, we’ll be spending a lot more time together.
I think Honey will love it.
But getting there is rough. On everyone.
Saturday (the day of our moving sale) was the hardest on Honey so far.
I couldn’t explain why dozens of people were walking around our house. Or why she couldn’t run around the house greeting them.
The whole back yard was filled with items for sale. So my smart idea was to put Honey’s bed in the basement doorway looking out on the yard and block her way with a baby gate. That way she could keep an eye on Mike while he was helping customers. She could greet the dog-loving customers (she did manage to say hello to one of the tiny dogs a friend brought with him to the sale). And she could chew on the delicious marrow bone I got her just for the day.
But soon enough was enough.
Honey Uses Her Big Girl Bark
Honey didn’t like being confined to the basement. Even if she could look outside and watch the action.
She didn’t like hearing people walking over her head. And she didn’t like knowing Mike and I were nearby and not being able to be with us.
Normally, when we’re in separate rooms, Honey will doze on the floor in a place that let’s her track both our movements. That was impossible from her stairway location.
So after about an hour of patience, Honey let us know enough is enough. She stood on the interior stairs and barked. And barked. And barked.
The crazy thing is that none of our shoppers mentioned it. Apparently, when people are on the track of a bargain, they don’t notice anything else.
It’s kinda scary to witness.
But anyway, once Honey told us she was done, one of the heroes of the day came to her rescue.
Honey’s New Favorite People
I didn’t dare to ask my parents if they would let Honey stay at their house.
For one thing, I don’t have a car. So they’d have to pick her up and deliver her back here. And they have a nice car that doesn’t go with dog hair.
And I don’t think of my parents as real dog people. My mom thinks Honey is sweet but she has never once touched her. And my dad likes to pet her. But only when she’s perfectly calm and relaxed.
But my dad offered to take Honey to his house for the rest of the day.
So we put the Kurgo hammock (I loooooooooove it) on my dad’s seat and sent Honey with him to stay with my mom.
My dad reports that Honey instantly relaxed in the car. And once at my parents’ house, Honey was so exhausted by her stressful morning that she lay right on the ground beside my mom and only stirred when my mom spoke to her.
Dad went to pick her up once the crowds had thinned out. So Honey got to spend a little time greeting the friendly dog people who came back at the end of the day looking for discounts.
Enough Is Enough!
I am so thankful for everyone who helped make our moving sale a success.
My sister drove six hours and rented a big-a$$ truck to help us bring tables into the house for the sale. She priced, cleaned, and organized for several days. And helped customers during the sale. I would have lost my sanity without her.
My husband didn’t want to do a sale at all. He would have loaded up a truck and sent everything to Salvation Army. But he jumped right in and got involved anyway.
My dad who brought lunch and snacks for everyone, stepped in at the cash box when needed, and gave Honey a much-needed break.
My mom who gave Honey a calm respite when she said enough is enough.
Our helper, Lynn, who is a serious animal lover and who made the rush of people in the door first thing much more manageable.
The customers, who, for the most part, were polite and patient. And who kept complimenting us on how well-organized and attractive the sale was.
And, of course, Honey. Who put up with chaos all around her without complaining until finally, enough was enough. And even then, her reaction was perfection reasonable and mild compared to what some dogs (and worse, some people) would do under stress.
For me, enough is enough. But we still have some work to do–taking large items to auction, selling books and CDs to dealers, and yes, even planning a few trips to donate to the Salvation Army.
Luckily, Honey is more relaxed now. She’ll help keep me relaxed.
And if I’ve finally decided enough is enough and start barking like a mad woman, perhaps someone will stick me in the back of a car and take me somewhere I can take a nice, long nap. With Honey.
Your Turn: How has your dog told you they’ve finally had it, enough is enough?