Every year in March my tennis friends and I head down to Palm Desert for the BNP Paribas professional tennis tournament. All the biggies are there; the best of the tennis world. It’s like attending a Grand Slam but only an hour flight from home. Yep, 6 glorious days of sun, fun, food, drinking, shopping, swimming, hot tubbing and of course, tennis.
With work and having 8 animals, I don’t get away too often. So when March rolls around, I get desert fever. But as soon as I pull out my suitcase, my dogs go into moping mode, lying on the bed watching forlornly while I pack.
My mutts are no dummies. They know when I’m leaving so might very well benefit from anti-depressants mixed in with their kibble. Instead, I try to trick them by packing when they’re not around. Now don’t get me wrong; they still seem to sense it. Like I said…they’re no dummies.
She’s leaving, isn’t she?
Now Don't Get Me Wrong 