Every few days, I receive an email or a phone call from well-meaning family or friends asking how I’m doing with the transition of our move. They take a gentle approach, offering the question in the same manner one would try to aid a wounded animal, all soft voice and slow hands. It’s sweet, and given my predilection for drama and behaving as if the sky is falling in over something as simple as my inability to find the missing set of white sheets, they’re wise to move with caution.
My response is always the same. I’m surprised, shocked even, to find myself sure and steady, knowing we have made the right decision for our family to move back to America. It’s possible I’m self-medicating with a weekly hit of cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory, but otherwise, I feel content.
After gingerly stepping around the question of my state of mental health, my loved ones then ask if the kids have adjusted to their new/old life. And I have nothing to report other than they are brilliant and part chameleon. Our dog on the other hand, has lost his mind. I attribute this to the brilliant idea of having him groomed two days after he moved into our new home. Apparently, the family member he stayed with during the move, did not realize that brushing the top 1 inch of his coat did not constitute grooming. When I took him to the real groomers to cut out all the knots in his fur, they greeted me with a sad shake of the head and promptly handed me a waiver to sign.
The waiver was a thinly veiled admission of animal cruelty and owner negligence disguised as permission to shave my dog bald. He may never recover. When I sent my husband a photo of our newly balded dog he asked why I had a squirrel attached to a leash. The psychological trauma of signing the waiver wasn’t enough, and now the dog has taken to pooping on my antique oriental rug as retribution. Poor pup has a bad hair day, all day, every day. I might need to invest in puppy prozac, or at the very least another slice of cheesecake.
Are you experiencing change this summer? A move, a job loss, a seriously bad hair-do? Note: The photo above is obviously a “before” shot. I can’t even bring myself to post an “after”.