This was certainly the worst day of his life. He didn’t know whether he could endure the awful loneliness any more. (from Charlotte’s Web by E B White)
Yesterday, I got a couple of chairs and a table for my little patio, which up till now I haven’t spent very much time on except to water the plants that live there. I got a great end-of-season/Labor Day deal, hefted the big box up three flights of stairs, wrestled the set together last night armed with nothing more than an Allen wrench and determination, and so I was pretty excited for the inaugural today. So I headed out with a glass of iced tea (you can take the girl out of Texas . . .) and my laptop to work on a project for a little while, and I brought my dog, Spur, out with me. I thought she would enjoy the change of scenery, since she spends almost all of her time hanging out in our apartment.
Before I go on, let me give you a little background about my precious puppy. She looks like this:
She’s an Australian Cattle Dog, and she grew up at my parents’ place–which is 20 acres in West Texas with horses, another dog, and loads of people who adore her. When we moved to Boston, her world contracted from all of that to an 828 sq ft apartment in a busy city with only me for company. A pretty big change. So it makes sense when people ask me how she’s handled the move from country dog to city dog.
And here’s where I pick up the story, because it answers that question. Although I expected her to think it was pretty great to hang out outside, I was wrong. Oh, she thought it was alright for a few minutes. But then she decided that it was time to go back inside. Come on, she said with her quiet whines and intense stares. Let’s go inside. But that wasn’t part of the plan.
So Spur spent the next hour or so basically complaining. First, she wasn’t happy outside, so I let her in. But then she didn’t want to be alone inside so I let her back out. Rinse and repeat a few times. There were moments of unhappy resignation, and there were moments of urgent pleading. It was surely the worst day of her life. Until I was ready to come inside, and then the world was right again. She’s currently crashed on the floor by my feet, recovering from her experience, no doubt. To answer that frequent question about how she’s adjusted–I’d say she’s taken to city life like a diva to a shoe closet.
[PS–don’t forget to enter the giveaway Kristi posted yesterday!]