Luna Takes Portugal: One Month In

Woof! Luna here again. Can you believe it’s been a whole month since we landed in Portugal? I don’t know how time works for humans, but for dogs it’s like: breakfast-sniff-sniff-nap-sniff-sunset ball-chasing-snuggle... repeat. So yeah, it’s flying by.

Anyway, we’ve settled into our new home by the sea. The backyard is my personal wonderland—there are chickens (yes, actual chickens!), a super weird loud thing Mom calls a rooster, and so many smells I could faint. Every day I chase them around (don’t worry, no animals were harmed—except maybe Mom’s nerves).

But let’s talk about the most important thing in my life: my ball. Mom calls it Crack Ball. That thing is my ride or die. I would play fetch 24 hours a day if Mom let me. Sometimes she says I’m “annoying” and “relentless” but honestly? She throws it every time, so who’s the real addict here?

We still take walks together, and they’re some of the best parts of our day. Afterward, Mom always stops to sit and stare out at the ocean. She tries to quiet her mind and meditate, but I know there’s a lot going on in that big human heart of hers. I curl up beside her, keeping watch while the waves do their thing. That’s my job.

Mom says she hasn’t done as much exploring as she thought she would. Something about Grandpa's car being too big and being hard on herself. But I say: we’ve explored our street, our backyard, and the beach—so we’re doing just fine. (She is thinking of getting a car soon, though—a Fiat 500 convertible! Sounds fancy, right? I’m not so sure about that whole top-down wind-in-my-face thing. Cars make me nervous, but I’m trying to be brave. Hopefully one day I’ll be that dog—snout out the window, ears flying in the breeze. Very European of me.)

Mom's been trying to meet new people too. Some of the humans from her little rectangle box (she calls it “an app”) have been disappointing. One guy acted all nice then tried to sell her a super expensive car on their first hangout. I barked extra loud that day on principle.

But there’s a new human on her radar. She met him through some expat thing. He's nearby and she thinks he’s interesting. I hope he likes dogs. And crack balls.

Anyway, I’m proud of Mom. She’s been thinking a lot—about the past, about her old life, about stuff that makes her sad and angry. She’s working through it in her therapy, and I can feel it… even when she tries to hide it with a smile. I curl up next to her when she cries. That’s also my job.

We’re still adjusting. Some days are sunshine and snacks, and other days are more like thunderstorms inside her chest. But we’re here. We’re trying. And we’re not going anywhere.

Sniffs and tail wags,
Luna 🐾