Frankie  is a bit unsure how she feels about this new fangled city living. She is learning about elevators and little parks with area designated for dogs. There are no little streams and woods, and she laments the turtles, foxes, snakes, and rabbits we no longer encounter on our walks. And it is hot and muggy with many hills and stairs to climb. 

Everything is changing, but Frankie has all of her beds and toys, and her odd writer human to walk her, feed her, and rub her tummy. She is content. 

Frankie worried for a day or two that the human who feeds her might be devoured by all those boxes. It was a close thing too, but they were unloaded and their contents put in order.  Why does one human need so many books?

Frankie is pleased at how excited her human is about the recent feedback she received on her WIP from an actual editor. As Frankie sees it, if her writer human can publish, then perhaps the frequency of her day job jaunts will be shorter, and there will be more tummy rubs for her. 

The office has 2 beds that suit Frankie. That will make enduring the writer human’s long hours of revisions easier.  

With each hour, Frankie is happier and really, it is almost like that other place with the foxes, turtles, rabbits, and snakes was a dream that evaporates in the morning late. Time for a new chapter. 

2 thoughts

  1. Hey Elise! I commented on your previous post about your puggly, (wasn’t sure it was Frankie was a pug, but I see I remembered right) and am happy to see everyone is settling in.

    Congrats on the feedback – yay!

    Everything looks like it’s being unpacked quickly and organized. You say you’re in a city…are you still in the south? Either way, happy writing, and I’ll “see” you at The Reef.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Donna, how is that Road to Bittersweet? I am still in the South- just moved into Atlanta, right next to the Baseball stadium. I downsized. So aside from books, there was not so much to unpack as I feared.

      It had been a long while since my last move but nothing like your mother. That is tough. My parents live in same house my dad was born in. They refuse to ever leave and will probably haunt the place long after they die.

      Liked by 1 person

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