Moved. Again!

With a dearth of bunnies, what’s a little dog to do? Stalk pigeons of course! We’ve been in New York a month now, and the city is Renn’s frenemy. This is definitely the first time I’ve ever used this word to describe something that related to my life in any way. But it’s simply true. Renn loves and fears New York.

He’s always been a very friendly, relatively skiddish pup, fearing manhole covers and stairs. But now, I have to add to that loud trucks, that seem to honk at just the worst moment to startle him, and litter. Wow, there’s a lot of litter. Denizens can’t really be to blame (well they can actually). Trash pickup occurs on the sidewalk each week and public trash bins don’t have lids. There are a lot of smokers. They don’t have a catchy and slightly threatening tag line, such as “Don’t mess with Texas.” This city is windy. The combination of these circumstances means that Renn is constantly dodging flying plastic bags, possessed empty food cartons, and random pamphlets and flyers. On one windy night, we were walking our usual a path and a large, scary pizza box flipped up on its side and landed square on Renn’s back. It was not a good moment.

Other moments are great, and Renn loves New York. There are two parks within easy walking distance for us. The smaller park comes complete with tall, uncut grass (great for smelling) and a couple park benches that line the path where people always want to pet him. The larger park comes complete with many other dogs to greet and gray squirrels to chase. In addition, New Yorkers are the friendliest people when you’re walking a dog. We are regularly talked to, and one of us is petted (thankfully, that’s not me). They make cooing noises and tell Renn how cute his is.

For us, adjusting hasn’t been too bad. It was annoying to wait for our stuff to arrive. Unpacking wasn’t awful. I built 7 items of furniture and only irreparably put one piece in backwards (a can of white paint pretty much fixed it). Seeing as how it’s build-by-picture and I spent more than a couple years in college, I would have felt better not having put any pieces in backwards. But I can deal with 1.

Work keeps both of us incredibly busy, but for the most part I can still get out on time and make it home pretty easily. Our train doesn’t have a schedule. It says it does, but it’s lying. So we generally wait anywhere between 3 and 16 minutes for the train to arrive to take us home. From there, relaxing at home, walking around the neighborhood, and trying out local restaurants has kept us occupied and happy.