I was worried about a handful of things leading up to our move earlier this month.
1. I had no idea where we would put all of our stuff since we were downsizing from a two bedroom (one bed and one office) to a one bedroom sans office.
2. I was concerned about the totally ridiculous potential extra tolls we'd have to pay to get to work from our new place.
3. I was fairly certain we'd have to bury at least one nice plate, vase or mug. We may have a bit of a reputation in that department.
I never thought I'd have to worry about how The Captain handled the move to the new place.
He stayed with Brett's parents the day of the move. When we picked him up and brought him to his new home, he was okay... or so we thought. It turns out he's not a fan of an entire apartment filled with big, heavy boxes that are all bigger (and heavier) than him.
... he looked a lot like this for the next two or three days.
Totally not normal. It made me so sad. He laid around and moped from cushy place to cushy place... and hid under the couch on occasion too. It absolutely broke my heart.
It wasn't until my parents came over a few days later that he perked up like normal. Naturally, I'd already told him about my puppy concerns. So... they showed up at the door with gifts. For the dog.
It's amazing how a hamburger toy, a squeaky cow and a big bag of doggie beef jerky can perk a pup up.
Considering The Captain's abandonment issues and the number of times he's had to find a new home, I guess his uneasiness was to be expected. We just didn't anticipate it... but we inadvertantly planned ahead.
A few weeks before we moved, we started a new routine of going to the dog park on the weekends. We wake up early (usually on Saturday, sometimes Sunday), grab coffee for the people and some water for the four-legged furry one, and off we go to play with all the other crazy puppies.
It has quickly become my most favorite part of the week.
Because we've been doing since it before the move, the pup is used to the park and recognizes it when we pulled it.
It's the best thing we could've done for him.
I guess it's safe to say the dog park is something stable... something normal to him. It's something familiar. It's exactly what he needed right after we moved.
Now that we've been in the new place for three weeks or so, I can happily say the pup has adapted. He's happy again. We still go to the dog park every weekend and we've started taking really long walks around the new neighborhood looking for a new puppy girlfriend. (Please don't ask if we talk to him about his girlfriends when we come home from work.... *cough*...)
Bottom line: Happy puppy = Happy Julie. The end.