Moving (twice) and a Doggie (or two)

I finally was able to sit down and fill you guys in on my whole moving experience. Let me tell you, it was terrifying. To the extreme. Let me give you a quick run down of what happened…

Moving day came, September 1st. I got up bright and early and finished up what little packing I had left to do. BF showed up right on time, 11 AM, and we loaded up the truck with the desk and dresser my mom was letting me take with me. Then we went over to my sister’s place and picked up the table she was donating to us. Off we went to the apartment complex, our first month’s rent in hand and ready to start the long move-in process. We got to the apartment complex, got our keys and entered our cosy little 3 bedroom, 2.5 bathroom town home. The boys (BF and Roomie) moved in the furniture (aren’t I lucky?), and we headed back to my place to get the rest of my belongings (shoes, clothes, etc. etc. etc.) and Harli. Once we were back at the apartments, the boys again brought in all my stuff (again, I consider myself very lucky) while I kept Harli company in the new strange place and started to get her settled in/started unpacking stuff. We had Panda Express for dinner (have I mentioned that it is my absolute FAVORITE place to get Chinese food? seriously, you’ve gotta check that out) and BF, Harli and I spent our first night in our new home on a cheap blow up mattress on the floor in our bedroom.

The next morning is when it slammed into me with the force of a semi truck hit me. Waves of guilt and fear washed over me, drowning me in terror and uncertainty. I did nothing but cry…and cry….and then cry some more all morning. Until finally BF and I decided that I needed to go back home. So we packed up my clothes and Harli’s stuff and headed back to my parent’s house. I walked through the door with the composure of a puppy with its tail between its legs and head hanging low. I felt so ashamed of myself. I felt weak, pathetically weak. Childish, even. But they welcomed me back with open arms and smiles. And so I was to stay with my parents for the week, and then that Friday go back to the apartment and spend the weekend there with Harli. This would be repeated until I felt I was ready (and I mean actually ready) to truly move out. Β The weekend came, and I found that I really enjoyed myself at the apartment, and even felt comfortable there. But, not wanting to push things to fast, like the last time, we figured it would be best if I spent the next week at my parent’s house as well. Another week past, and come that weekend I felt 100% ready to make the move. For real this time. And so we did. We got my stuff again and brought it back to the apartment…and all has been well since then. I haven’t felt any pangs of fear or guilt. No panic attacks. As of last night I was finally able to get a decent night’s sleep. πŸ™‚

But I think that, in part, my growing comfort in my new environment is due to a new friend that BF and I adopted this weekend. His name is Buddy. He’s a 3 year old Boxer/Pitbull mix that we found online while looking for a companion for Harli. She was deciding to bark and whine whenever she was left alone in the house, and we had tried everything to make her stop. But, as none of it worked, the only thing else I could think of was to get another dog to keep her company during the day while we’re gone. I felt like it was because, for the first time in her life, she would be alone. She’s always had another dog or human in the house with her when the worker bees left for the day, so she’s never had to be alone. But now she’s got Buddy-boy to keep her company, and things have smoothed out much nicer. Today when we left for work, she didn’t even bark. πŸ™‚ Ready to meet Buddy? Here he is!

buddy + me

This was shot at PetSmart the day we adopted him by the hired photographer there. Isn’t he a cutie? And he is the biggest sweetheart I’ve met. He was found in Ocala National Forest, and was taken in by Phoenix Animal Rescue from Gainesville Florida. Lucky us, he’s house trained, crate trained, used to apartment living, heart worm and flea free, and microchipped. And his foster mom had him in obedience training, so he’s pretty socialized. We got to bring him home that night, and he and Harli seem to be getting along quite well. I know it’ll be a while before they are comfortable enough to play with each other, but until then Buddy is happy entertaining himself with squeaky toys, and Harli is happy watching and chewing on a bone. Here’s a shot of the two of them together, I was lucky enough to get this one before handing them a treat. πŸ™‚


So basically, my moving experience was far from what I’d call smooth. But, in the end things worked out really well and I’m happy now. The important thing is that Harli and Buddy are happy…and Buddy has a forever home with us. I’m sure the two of them will grow to be best buddies, and most likely partners in crime.

till next post, Katie


4 thoughts on “Moving (twice) and a Doggie (or two)

  1. Ashley says:

    Aw, such cute dogs! They look like the could cause some trouble together. πŸ™‚
    I’m glad you were finally able to get comfortable enough to move! πŸ™‚
    Hope all stays smooth!β™₯

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