MONTREAL — There are two words that haven’t been spoken in our home for about three years. Two words that at once evoke feelings of exasperation, aggravation and affection.
These two words are spoken when entering or leaving a room, when attempting to sit on the couch, when trying to leave the house for the day. After a while, we barely notice we are saying them. They become background noise meant for only one set of ears. Those two words are: “Move, Dog.”
We’ve been talking about getting a dog for a few months and after shaking our heads at the ridiculous requirements for dealing with small rescue organizations (several home visits, a credit check, the intention of calling my boss!) and not falling in love with anyone at the SPCA, we decided to leave it to fate.
“We will go on vacation,” we said, “and when we see a roadside sign that says ‘Free Puppies!’ we’ll stop.” Despite that very solid and reasonable plan, we did put out a few feelers and we imagined ourselves with a Labrador, or maybe a German shepherd mix with floppy ears and a penchant for learning.
Then Mischou popped up on Melani’s Facebook feed just as I happened to be looking over her shoulder. It was love at first sight.
He is not what we had intended, puppy love’s little joke: He is six years old and weighs about seven pounds. He’s got some shih tzu in him—a breed Melani swore would never come into her home.
Yet here he is, a great companion and an awesome little traveller. And sure roadtripping with a dog has its own challenges. We think we’re ready to level up.
But we’re open to hearing your advice and tips for a stress-free tip with a silly little dog.
Life's a Trip 
delightful as always!
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