Jennifer Plesko

So sorry I’ve dropped off the face of the earth. I haven’t had internet for the last few weeks. You see, I moved into a new place on March 1st and things haven’t really slowed down ever since. The move itself was tiring enough. It involved moving half my stuff out of storage 200 miles away and moving the other half out of my old third floor apartment. And there were three of us. And it was raining. My parents were the ones who helped me move, and I promised them that next time I would hire movers so that they won’t write me out of the will.

The new apartment is nice. It’s substantially bigger than the previous shoebox. It’s a bit depressing that I’ve owned two houses and I’m moving into an apartment, but at least I don’t have to deal with an HOA. Those people are bored and dangerous. I do, however, live beneath a family of clogging elephants. At least that’s my best guess as to who could possibly be capable of making that much noise at all hours.

Unpacking was an adventure in and of itself. Because we never completely unpacked in our last house due to all the remodeling, some of those boxes have been packed since 2006. I was surprised to find out how much crap I really do have. And I don’t even know where it all came from. There’s enough silverware for a dinner party of 50. And somehow, I have enough glassware from Pat O’Brien’s to throw my very own Mardi Gras. The funny thing is that all those glasses came from our honeymoon and we only went to Pat O’Brien’s twice.

Some boxes remain packed for now. What was I going to do with a big box of wedding pictures and a unity candle? And my Pottery Barn shadowboxes full of black and white wedding photos, hubby’s boutonniere and a handkerchief made from my grandmother’s wedding gown? Well let’s just say I may need to fill a few of those Pat O’Brien’s glasses before I go digging through that.

Anyway, last weekend I made a trip to my parents’ house to get the last of my stuff: my dogs. I was so excited to get them back and have them to come home to. I was a little worried with how they’d handle the move, but they’ve moved before. And being my dogs, they should be used to chaos by now. They aren’t used to having to be on a leash and do their business in designated areas, but they seemed to be doing OK.

Then a problem surfaced. One of them began marking everything. My bed, the couch, the TV, the ficus tree. These dogs have been housetrained for years. My mom had told me someone had been marking the beds and the couch at her house occasionally, but she thought it was because of the cat. I emailed their vet and told her the situation. She said I should rule out a UTI first. So, since I didn’t know which dog it was for sure, I decided to take them both in. Although, judging from the height of the “evidence,” my guess was Sniff.

My friends recommended a local vet and I made an appointment. The vet told me that it’s unusual for male dogs, particularly mixed breeds to get UTIs, and that it’s more likely just something about the apartment that makes him feel the need to do that. Possibly some separation anxiety. He wanted to rule both of those out, so he prescribed antibiotics and…Xanax. That’s right. My dogs are on Xanax. Everyone at my house has issues, apparently. At least I know that I can sneak a few of their pills if I need to.