Tamara was kind enough to ask after Clover, Spaniel of Joy, and how she's adjusting to the move. I'd say she enjoys her new digs overall, but is suffering from that metaphysical crisis of wherever she goes, there she is. It is Clover's greatest wish to scare someone, anyone. She didn't scare the two elderly dogs down the block when we lived in Milwaukee (in fact, when they walked past our house and heard her bark, they'd roll their eyes in doggie derision). She couldn't scare the Indian food delivery guy in Chicago, or any member of the cleaning staff, and when she tried to frighten the gardener, he actually scooped her up and tucked her under his arm like a parcel. For hours afterward she hid in her puppy house, ears hanging low in shame. This new house has a big back yard with rabbits--lots of them. At first Clover was very excited by this and did her special pointing at one (very cute--using her little elbow), but the most she could inspire from the bunny was a casual backward glance. Our next door neighbor was enthused to see we had a dog, and asked us to walk Clover into her yard sporadically to deter rabbits from eating her plants. We perform this task dutifully, but with little hope.
Clover does bark and jump, and although small is at least 14 pounds--hardly a chihuahua. And yet, no one cowers in her presence. It's a mystery.