My dog is really happy here.
She has a bed.
She has her food.
She knows the kitchen closet is always stocked with a seemingly endless supply of her favorite snacks.
Breakfast and dinner are served everyday at roughly the same time, so are walks.
On sunny days she tans on the balcony and on cold days she gets her own blanket.
She goes to the groomer, she goes to both her grandmothers’, she goes to the vet. Never by herself, of course.
She is always escorted, always controlled with a leash or with voice command.
She gets in trouble for acting out. For acting like a dog. For not doing what she is told.
She gets praised for looking pretty. For howling in a cute way. For doing what she is told.
I’m starting to think my dog is miserable here.