My name is Laddie, I’m a dog who lives with my ``mother´´ called Lena, my ``father´´ called Tim and their little boy called Jacob.
It was Thursday, and I’ve just heard that Tim had been offered a new job in the other end of the country, and that I was allowed to come with them to Springfield. Tim didn’t really know if he wanted to take this offer, and he was discussing it with Lena, back and forth, until they finally 3 days later agreed that they should just pack up and see how it would work out, they could always move back to L.A. again.
Already the next Thursday, at 8 am the movers came in a big truck to pick up our furniture and other personal stuff. My stuff was of course also packed. My basket, my food, my leash and my bowl was packed in a big box. The box with my stuff was lifted into the middle of the truck body, and as the moving people passed me, I saw that the bag with my food was sticking out of the box. I hadn’t had anything to eat because that my caretakers was so busy that they had totally forgot to feed me, so I was starving. I slowly went in the truck, pass the couch and the TV, and there it was, I started eating. As I was eating I heard the truck engine start, and before I could reach to think, we were driving.
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