The last time I moved, three years ago, she made no bones about not wanting to be relocated. From the first box I packed to the appearance of her carrying crate, she wandered my apartment, protesting at the top of her lungs. Three days travel across the continent in a car and she cried for the first two. She only stopped her protest on the last night of our trip when I was unable to find an economy hotel and had to register us into a more expensive luxury suite. She took one look around the facility, decided it was a residence fit for a queen and quieted immediately.
So, I was expecting the worst when our family planned a move to the Island. After all she was going to be travelling the Passage on a twenty two hour ferry ride, not the QE2.
She proved me wrong. She accepted the presence of packing boxes as just a thoughtful provision on my part of a new variety of scratching posts. She didn't seem to mind the mattress on the floor and even worse a bed directly on the carpet after the movers came and went. Even the trip on the ferry she took in her stride.
My daughter had her two toy poodles and all three pets had to spend a night on the car deck. The ferry arranges for opportunities to visit and walk your pets, but the trip is anything but luxurious. Nikki, one of the poodles was especially nervous but Zoey passed with flying colours. She's even happy in the temporary digs we have for the week till possession date on the 7th.
Just look at that picture of contentment. Sometimes I think her dramatic protests are just her way of playing with me.