Saturday, June 20, 2009

The times, they are a changin'

He sits there looking at me. He stares as I take everything he knows and efficiently set it into boxes. He follows me silently as I flit from room to room, picking up some things, setting down others -- cleaning, organizing, deciding. He hangs his head in confusion and paces back and forth in quiet contemplation.

He knows something is going on. And he is uneasy.

I am packing up our lives together and he is unsure where we are going to be. His entire schedule is off and he is thrown for a loop. I cannot explain it to him so he will understand. He stares at me with those brown eyes in sadness, confusion, and complete trust, and I cannot explain it so he will understand. He is a dog and his world is changing.


  1. Yours is too, Love, more than his. But you have some control and he does not. Poor old Monty Boy. From one of three to one and now to where or what he doesn't know. Hug him from me.

  2. Poor Monty! Would be SO nice if you could speak dog, and reassure him. Maybe you'll just to have to spend a bit more time cuddling him. Time which you probably feel you don't have.

    OK everyone; relax.


Crap monkies say "what?"