I'm not adjusting very well to having a dog in the family.
Neither are my two cats. We began shutting them in the master bedroom shortly after we brought Mac home; this was the easiest spot to designate as a Safe Place for them. But it's been two months and even though we open the door when the dog is in his crate, they rarely venture out.
Except when I forget we left the door open and release the dog. That's what occurred after an early morning shopping trip I took following school drop-off. Before I had a chance to put away the milk, I saw two little gray furry blurs streak through the living room, with Mac on their tails. I ran to the sliding door, shoved the dog in the yard, and spent the next 40 minutes trying to locate the cats, who had pulled a disappearing act on me.
I was afraid they may have somehow escaped out back with the dog and were lost, and I hoped I would not have to explain this to my daughter and husband.
It turned out that Biscuit - the big one (who has become decidedly fatter since his bedroom confinement) - was coiled into a ball back under my bed. And with the help of a flashlight, I eventually discovered Smokey shuddering in a remote corner of the garage, where he will likely remain until tonight, when I'll have someone to help me dig him out of there.
But at least, he's safe and secure.
As for me - dealing with the balance of power between the cats and the dog is only one reason I've been off kilter since we acquired Mac.
There's the issue of walking him; something I need to do on a daily basis or he gets a little crazy. This would be OK if I had nothing else to do during the day -- but there are times when I have work that must get done and I have not yet figured out how to take a 30 minute walk without needing an additional 30 minutes to get back to where I was before I was interrupted.
Like I'm trying to do now.