California to Canada part two

As Boodah sits next to me in my 'office' (Hannah's pink, purple, silver, gold, red, rainbow sparkle room) snoring away, I realize how much this transition must have affected him as well. Imagine, after years (from when he could remember) of cavorting in his own back yard, a gravelly dog run, neighborhood kids who petted and knew him and a life of sunshine and simplicity. Fast forward to May 19th. He was 'drugged' (benadryl) shoved in a carrier and hauled through LAX to ride, uncomfortably at the feet of Hannah for 5+ hours. Out he popped (after a long wait at customs) and arrived into a small condo, high above the world he knew, a new bed, bowl and food to start his new life. The changes were huge. No longer could he just 'go pee'. He had to be taken by one of us, down the elevator, out of the big building, through the courtyard (where no 'dogs' are allowed) to one of the many brown patches of grass where dogs do their business. During the summer he was put on a boat after a two hour car ride (how he hated the boat part) for a trip to the cottage. There, at last, he could run and pee at will. He delights in the freedom of numerous trees, pithy dirt in which to rub his feet, and the over all vastness of the forest. When winter came, snow confounded him. He loved the softness, the ability to brush his feet but was always surprised (and hobbled) by the fact that after a bit, his paws would freeze. The orange paw covers seemed to humiliate him and eventually it was better to let him limp then fight the battle of putting (and keeping them on). As we coast into almost a year (and all four seasons) of life here in Toronto, Boodah finally seems to be happier, more adapted to the life and more relaxed.

I know someone else who is too.