Miss Sugar’s Moving Diary – Entry #1

Miss Sugar sitting on the edge of an ottoman with her front paws crossed

My humans have been more active than usual. On more than one tiresome occasion, I’ve been forced to summon them with my loudest wail, to remind them to submit to my whims: brushing, petting, feeding and general adoration.

There has been much discussion about where we will live and this has worried me. Anxiety has overtaken my disposition. Between startled frights when Mother employs a screechy contraption on the cardboard configurations (tape gun) and the intrusion by a grey cat that taunts me from the deck, I can barely cope. Twice since this insanity began, I was able to see the bottom of my food bowl. Oh, the humanity!

Miss Sugar lying on the rug, on her back, looking contented and relaxed, with her head and upper boy on her red bacon squeaky toy.
My bacon toy soothes my tortured soul

Thankfully, Mother has secured a condo for the six-week gap between our homes. Father had the tougher task of coordinating storage and moving. He appears to have accomplished this by renting the strangest looking steel domiciles. One currently sits in front of the house.

Full shot of the Moving Box seacan on a flat bed truck. Derek and the driver are discussing where it will be placed. It's white with orange and black lettering and 20 feet long.
The 20-foot shipping container/storage box gets unloaded out front.
Inside the storage container. It's clean and white with a plywood floor and has about 85% capacity still to be filled. A few boxes are inside.
There’s loads of room AND not as much room as you think. It’s weird!

Father and two other human males are currently loading the steel thing with garage stuff, outdoor stuff, non-fragile basement stuff, etc. Late this week it will be taken to a storage yard, while another one comes for the furniture and kitchenware. It pleases me that I’m too low to the ground to carry anything more than a treat or my squeaky mouse. But I must wonder, what will be left upon which to shed my hair? Oh, I worry so.

Mother told him it couldn’t be done, but Father was able to hire three movers to load (and later unload) the second sea can. They’re from a legitimate moving company and in no way affiliated with the shipping container people. Father’s my favourite.

I’m keeping a close watch on my few belongings to ensure that they don’t get put into the steel house. Father says the permit for the container cost $153 and he had to give a $1,000 deposit to the municipality in case of damage to the street. If anything happens, I’d question that grey cat first.

I rarely see Mother without one or more of these rolls that squeak when they’re in use.

Rolls of tape reading KITCHEN and BATHROOM on top of a tape gun with packing tape. A box cutter. All on top of a packed box with tape across it - red tape reading FRAGILE and green tape reading LIVING ROOM.

Mother claims packing and unpacking satisfy her inner Monica (Friends). Items continue to go out the door as she reduces the number of items for me to rub against. Father says loading the containers is like life-sized Tetris. I continue to hope that no one forgets the can opener or my many, many brushes. A girl must look her best, even when she travels.

And now, dear reader, my paws are tired and I haven’t eaten in several minutes. I feel I must go and yell at someone. Until next time…

Miss Sugar

3 thoughts on “Miss Sugar’s Moving Diary – Entry #1”

  1. Ms. Sugar, Mr. Rusty here. Rule 1 of moving, home is where the food and water bowl reside always, even if that is temporary. And I’ve done my share of moving and travel.

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