Being a dog
There are some very good things about being a dog. One is not having to deal with all the changes of address that come about as a result of moving. I’d like to say that we don’t have changes that need doing, it’s just a human thing, but that’s wrong. Mum has explained that we need to update our records for our microchips, my passport, our insurance, The Kennel Club, our food supplier… I may have fallen asleep at that point. I’m just glad that Mum has a list and is working her way through it. The sad part is that she will have to do it all twice, once whilst we’re of no fixed abode and again when we move into our new home.
Mum says the worst part is there is no logic for how to do the changes. Some companies say you have to make changes through their app on the phone. Others say that you have to do it through their desktop login. Some don’t seem to want you to do it at all. I’m going to be very upset if I find my food is delivered to the wrong place. I’ve asked Mum if she can prioritise that one, but she says that’s not as important as some of the others. How can she say that? If she gets that wrong I shall be on the phone to the local butcher ordering best steak to keep us going until our food arrives.
I’ve been having great fun playing with the other dogs here. There is a serious risk of me going home fitter than I arrived. Mum says perhaps she should have booked in to join us, but I think they may have spotted she wasn’t a dog.