The mistress is busy, something about grocery shopping because she is out of diet coke. No matter. I, Sam, shall blog in her stead.
The new headquarters is a good place. I do not have to climb stairs, and it is much easier to keep constant watch over the mistress's actions. A young and flighty young thing lives on one side of us; she lacks dignity, but is pleasant enough. On the other side we have another dignified dog, a female of mature years, one who understands the need to maintain constant watchfulness. However, I suspect that she enjoys that mysterious activity known as swimming, so I shall have to carefully monitor our conversations for clues.
The mistress has opened many boxes, but has been kind enough to leave my sofa uncovered. It is unusual for her not to bring me along when she leaves in the morning; I am glad that she has at last come to understand the importance of keeping me along at all times.
Now, if you will excuse me, I have Proust to read.