Home

So the big move went through catastrophe free. We moved all of our stuff, big and small, furry and scaly, to our new home. After a painful stretch with my computer scattered about in pieces, packed in overflowing boxes, Matt finally found a moment to put it all back together. I'm feeling reconnected to the universe.

I suspect you're wondering how the dogs did...and even if you're not, I'm going to tell you. We were forced to crate the girls while the door was opened and closed countless times. They were not impressed, whining almost constantly. I had to wonder if every time we left they questioned if we'd return. The anxiety was thick enough to slice with a knife, but they were just feeding on ours.

Moving all your things is so very disruptive. There are those that like change, and I suppose after a great deal of panic and anxiety, I too get excited about the newness of it all. But the moving days themselves are horrific and then there's the physical pain. I have bruises in places that I don't remember hurting! And of course there's the finding of where to put all your things in your new home.

"Should this go here or there?"

"There's no room for this - well I'm glad I brought that all the way up those stairs for nothing..."

The girls had none of these questions. They ran in and smelled EVERYTHING. There was no bit of carpet, wall, or door that was not probed with a snout. There was much pacing, back and forth. Learning new patterns and new doors. They found their bowls, they found their beds, and thankfully, there was still chicken!! And after a few days of this nervous pacing and sniffing, they were home. But truly, home is where we are. Wherever we are. I'm pretty sure that's why the waiting in the crates was so stressful for them.

But they have it all wrong, home is wherever they are. And now they are settled and we are all home.