Because we are going to California for two and a half weeks, we had a decision to make: take Milo with us, or leave him in a kennel.
We knew both things would be stressful for him, and we opted for the simplest and safest one: a kennel.
Now, this place is air conditioned, there’s a vet full time on the premises, he gets to go out to a closed backyard twice a day, and he will be fed according to our specifications, twice a day plus a treat or two here and there. Canned wet food if he stops eating for a meal or so. The vet herself promised that she’ll email me photos of him. The place is about what we used to pay for a cheap hotel room in Mexico.
We both know it must look silly, but we are heartbroken for the little guy. We are sure he remembers the first time he was abandoned, by the first family who adopted him. We can see him become sad and a bit restless when he sees us packing. Now, if dogs think at all, he’s thinking that we left him forever. The place where he’s staying kind of looks like the San Francisco Animal Care and Control shelter where I saw him the first day, looking at me, smiling and wagging his tail.
I know–first world problems.
steph