Well, see where I rate in this household!

Our ceiling is leaking. It was leaking last winter. Mom reported it promptly. Then last week it REALLY came gushing down. The leak is just over the top of my crate in our living room.

“Luckily nothing valuable was harmed,” Mom told the building manager. “Gracie’s crate got wet. We had to move it because I can’t leave her in a crate with rain coming down and maybe getting inside.”

Yeah right. Now my crate is jammed up against a bookcase. I don’t have a view of the whole room. I get claustrophobia in there. And it’s farther from my window. And it’s my crate, for heaven’s sake. The most important piece of furniture we own.

No sympathy from Mom.

“It’s just for a little while,” she says. “You spend less time in your crate than most dogs. And let’s face it: you live a great life. We just went to the dog park yesterday. I have videos to prove it.”

Mom did have a moment of fantasy. Maybe we’ll move to Belltown.

But we won’t go unless we absolutely have to. I know my mom. She loves being near Metropolitan Market. We’re close to her pottery class. We have about 10 bus lines within a few blocks.

True, we’d like to be closer to her exercise class and one of the Downtown Dog Lounge locations. We could be closer to a dog park. But then we’d be farther from these other places. Belltown doesn’t have a decent place to buy food. There’s a great pet store but we get our dog and cat food delivered. Mom says she can’t carry those 25-pound bags any more.

Luckily they’re coming to look at our ceiling today. I’m keeping my paws crossed for a speedy resolution.

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