Moving is a traumatic experience for most of us. It's the same routine every time, the packing, the unpacking, the trying to figure out where you got everything from and why in the hell you still have it. Moving is traumatic and if you have a pet it's even harder.
Imagine my surprise, when I and my cat Fred moved into a house with three other cats and everyone got along instantly. A couple of sniffs, a high five and Fred was eating from the same bowl with the other cats. The only thing left was to teach Fred to be an indoor/outdoor cat and to use the cat door. He was now an indoor cat living in a world where other cats could come and go as they please. He caught on quick and everything was great…for about a week.
About a week after the move everything was wonderful until one night the neighbor's dog started barking. All night long he barked. Being a new neighbor, nothing was yelled out the window. The next morning I slowly dragged myself out to the kitchen where I could smell the coffee and asked if the dog barks all the time. I was told no, didn't even know the neighbors had a dog. I let it go.
That night around 11pm the onslaught of foaming at the mouth barking started. A few "shut up" were sternly yelled out the window to no avail. The day after the third night I paid a visit to the neighbors and introduced myself. I learned the dog was not new, they had him for 4 years, he's never barked before and he wasn't going to be put inside for the night because he would chew up everything. After the fourth night I found new and colorful words flying out of my mouth and out the window, all had no impact on the barking dog. On the fifth night, again around 11pm, it started. I dragged my sleep deprived butt out of bed and stomped like a crazy person out the back door. I was done. The dog and I were going to have it out once and for all.
I slammed out the back door and marched to the middle of the backyard and stopped. I was embarrassed. The tide had instantly turned. I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard these words calmly come from behind me. "Your naked, the porch lights on, the houses here are on raised foundations so they can see you over the wall and I think your cats mooning the dog". Standing on the block wall with tail up, facing away from the barking dog was, of course, my cat Fred. It was a perfect perch, just out of reach of the dog but next to a bush so when the dog owners would come out they wouldn't see the mooning cat.
The next night around 11pm the dog started. I quietly got up, put on shorts and with head down, went to get the cat off the back wall. The dog was quiet. Never did tell the neighbors, not after some of the words I slung out the window.