But there are a couple of things he really hates about moving. One is that I spend my days running all around the house trying to get us packed. He would much rather I sit with him on the couch and cuddle and nap all day (wouldn't we all, pup). The other annoyance is that as more and more of our apartment is put into boxes, he loses more and more of his usual comfy nap space.
This time around, it all started when I had to move our Rock Band drums over in front of his little burrow bed he has behind the recliner in the living room. He would just stand over there by the offending drums and stare at me as if to say, "you're kidding with this, right?"
Then I had to move his pillow in the corner of the dining room to a new location so make room for box piles. Where is he supposed to sit while we eat dinner now???
So, the poor thing was forced to just lay on the couch. The horror! He seemed okay with that until I started using the couch as my book-packing space.
He does not appreciate this invasion of his personal space.
In protest, he found a pile of pajamas in the bathroom and claimed that as his own.
"Take THAT, Mom."
The next morning his irritation returned when he realized that a box behind the living room recliner was preventing the back of the chair from going down flat when he walked up it. Usually he likes to recline the chair all the way back and sleep on the headrest in the sun. No such luck today!
"What is the deal with this chair?"
I took pity on him and moved the box (temporarily).
Later that day, however, Achilles thought he hit the jackpot. I noticed he was really focused on me as I was packing up our linen closet. I figured it was just because he was trying to use his little puppy dog eyes to will me to sit on the couch and cuddle with him, but as soon as I laid the very last towel in that linen box, this happened:
Apparently, he was so focused on me because he thought I was creating a new wonderful place for him to sleep at last. He was not very pleased when I pushed him right out to seal up that box. Sorry about your luck, Achilles!
Such a rough life.
Such a put-upon little dog. Don't worry, Achilles! It will all be over soon! Next week at this time, we'll be in our new apartment, he should have some of his comfy spots back, and I will be able to relax on the couch and drink a bottle of wine. I'm definitely counting down the days, and I'm sure Achilles is, too.