Roo in turmoil

The last couple of months have been hard on Roo. She's not sure what's up, but we're moving, and I had to begin packing early because of the difficulty of using my arm – which by now I am barely able to use at all. I don't know if I've re-injured it, but all the lifting seems to have hurt something, and there's no end in sight to the packing and lifting. Maybe it's just the exhaustion, doing this from 5 AM till 2 AM every day, with an hour of PT and Roo's walks. Those can't be foregone. They're the only thing that have ever kept her at all healthy. Now, though there's no time for them, I can't see stressing her even more by stopping.

At first, the packing didn't bother Roo too much. She got used to the noise of the tape on boxes, the 30 trips to the Post Office to ship stuff sold on eBay (80 auctions, everything from old cameras I didn't even know you could get film for to fountain pens to fuel injector nozzles to aircraft tools), the boxes, the noise of the packing tape. But dogs understand something about moving, and they don't like it. It's not that they're attached to the stuff, it's that their environment and routine changes and they wonder what's going on. The odd part is that Roo has never liked the house we're in in Asheville. Every time we return to it in the car, she doesn't want to go inside, and when she does, as often as not she goes straight into hiding.

Until now. Now that we bought the little trailer that is going to be her home, she can't get into the house fast enough. She refuses to enter the trailer. Change is threatening to her.

I'm not sure how to handle it. Bribery has failed. She prefers to forego her ultimate treat—salami, previous worker of all miracles—than to get it in the trailer. She's just hiding all the time, tucked behind the toilet. 

I was hoping it wouldn't be like this, because Roo always prefers to stay in the car, and I thought the trailer might resemble that for her. If every minute of the day wasn't taken up with getting ready for the movers, I would take the trailer to a nearby RV park for a night so that she wouldn't have the alternative of going in the house. 

Sooner or later she's going to have to get used to it.

Not An Easy Dog™

On the GoFundMe that you all made so successful: Thank you all so much for your generosity. Without belaboring it, please let it suffice to say that without it, none of this would be happening, so you can imagine how much it means. I will always be grateful to you all. As for the stuff that has to be mailed out, I will need a little time. There is at least a day's work to scan the photograph properly, make the prints, mail everything. I thought it would be happening sooner, but with movers coming on Thursday, I'm just not able to make it happen. The place looks like a pipe in a nuclear waste facility burst, and what little stuff we're keeping all has to be re-packed and—ah, you all know the drill. So I hope you'll forgive me. I was overly optimistic about being able to get it done more quickly. It will be done, and soon, but it will take a little more time.

There was something I did with the GoFundMe that I regret. That wasn't properly thoughtful. I wrote that the top contributors would receive the beads. And so they will. But I should have made it a random drawing. That might have been more in keeping with the spirit I intended for the thing. After that occurred to me, in the course of all the packing and unpacking, I found a few more very old Tibetan turquoise beads, and those I will do a drawing for. There are online tools for random drawings, and after all this settles down, I'll do that. So, no matter how much you chipped in, there's still a pretty good chance. The cut off will be at the end of the week.

I'm hoping that this effort to simplify will give me back the time to write again. In any event, I will be keeping you guys posted as things progress. We just have to get through the week.