My poor dog. Ever since we returned to Manhattan, Truman has spent every day slumped on the floor, looking very much like a old pot roast someone dropped and left behind. You see, he lived in a yard all summer, hanging out with my parent's yapping terror. I always thought he found their dog annoying, biting his ears and running in circles and all that, but it seems he misses Miss ADHD.
He gazes at the wall, lost in despair. I've been throwing the tennis ball. Nothing. Dangling his favorite smelly sock in front of his face. Not even an eye flick. How about a treat? Meh. When I take him out of a walk (drag), he's not even interested in sniffing a single butt.
Help! I don't know what else to do! He used to love being a city dog, what with all the smells and activity. I guess he secretly longs for the suburbs.
We'll be visiting my parents soon, but it's not like I can reason with Truman in the interim.