What's new in the world of this bride turned bridesmaid?
Well, the Engineer and I just moved to Toronto.
T.O.R.O.N.T.O.
And I am trying to be super duper positive about it. Unfortunately, I am not doing so well.
Firstly, it's not New York.
My new neighbourhood is not Brooklyn.
And it does not help when people say 'Oh, but you're so close to New York!'. Right. What part of "I was in New York" don't they get?
Secondly, it's not Rainy City. That even though had lots of rain and sometimes was No-Fun-Couver it is still the prettiest city in the entire world. It really really is.
So here we are. In this new place. Called Toronto.
At least the furballs are feeling at home. I am so proud of their adaptable little brains that seem to love everywhere I force them. Each new home is not without it's challenges however.
In Vancouver if my phone rings and I press '9' the duo immediately start barking because they know a guest is on their way up. In Brooklyn, if our buzzer went off the two would go crazy. But in these two spaces we were all in the same room/level and it was easy for me to get them to stop barking. AKA spray water on them.
Here in Toronto we have a new set of problems. We live on the second floor of a house. Our entrance is therefore located on the first floor. And our front door is a window. Just one big window that shows every passing school kid, mailman, squirrel or blowing leaf off to my excitable mutts.
Brooklyn has taken to sleeping on the stairs - he is the pillar of guard dog. Too bad he weighs nine pounds and isn't fooling anyone. It doesn't help that the house below isn't finished yet and there have been problems with our own home which means contractors stomping in and out all day long.
The Engineer and I are getting a baby gate.
On our second day here, the boys and I were in our front yard (bonus! I have a front yard). Mop was so good and just wandered around within a five-foot radius. Brooklyn is always bad so he was being carried.
All was fine UNTIL Mop spotted our neighbour. A hairless cat.
Hell broke loose. Mop would not respond to 'come' or 'stop that' or 'don't hurt that cat' or 'bad dog'. He had a mind of his own and that cat was fast. Mop chased it up the street, then down the street, then into a backyard.
All the while with me on his tail and Brooklyn having a freak fest in my arms.
I managed to wrangle him in some strange person's, ie. my new neighbours, yard where he was barking at the cat. Except it was a new cat. Great. The new hood is crawling with felines.
Mr. Mop got into trouble and was sentenced to solitary confinement in the bathroom where he promptly threw up and then scratched at the door so much one paw started to bleed.
Awesome.
Lesson here? Always on a leash and buy neighbours some flowers.
I am used to them barking at whatever man is at the door and usually if I let them out, they sniff the feet of said man and then pee on the grass and march back into the house.
Last night when we had sushi delivered I expected the same behaviour.
What I wasn't prepared for was Sushi Man's fear of dogs.
After grabbing the sushi and asking for change, Mr. Mop managed to bound past me and proceed to bark at Mr. Sushi. I told him to be quiet but due to the fear Mr. Sushi had of Mop, the barking continued. Mr. Mop proceeded to nip at Sushi's feet which made Mr. Sushi hop from one foot to another. I told Mr. Sushi that Mop wouldn't hurt him but this did not quell his fear and he proceeded to do a funky dance until I could grab Mop.
Mr. Sushi had to go back to his car for change. In this time, Mr. Mop was brought inside, told to 'down' and the 'no noise' command was obeyed.
But there was something about Mr. Sushi that Mr. Mop simply did not like. When I held out my hand for change, Mop escaped again and proceeded to bark earnestly at the dancing Japanese guy. Now instead of staying still like I told him to, Mr. Sushi darted for the yard with Mop on his heels. I threw down the sushi and raced after them. Unfortunately I forgot to close the door so Brooklyn was out in a shot.
Mr. Sushi ran across the street in fear for his life from 15 pounds of white fur and started to hide behind the fence. I managed to grab Mop but Brooklyn was still on the loose and barking in circles around Mr. Sushi. Sushi man was terrified. TERRIFIED. Of Brooklyn.
If I wasn't so mad at my dogs and clearly embarrassed I would have laughed my ass off. Mr. Sushi looked more like Mr. Sumo so I have no idea why a 9 pound Yorkie could send him into such a state of distress.
By this time, there are cars on the street stopped to (a) watch the ruckus and (b) not hit Brooklyn.
I shouted my apologies at Mr. Sushi who darted for his car as soon as both dogs had been wrangled and headed back inside. My head held in shame.
At this point, the Engineer finally came downstairs to see what all the commotion was about. Nice timing.
The sushi turned out to be terrible. So at least I don't have to order from there ever again.
I still need to get the neighbours some flowers though. I feel like we are that family with brats that moves onto a street and everyone hates. Ugh.
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