moving with pets.
Ben Westhoff Last week, Anna and I moved from our small, third floor walk-up in Hoboken to a new place on the ground floor of a house in the New Jersey suburbs. It was a pretty standard moving day, complete with an early morning snowstorm and a flat tire on the moving truck. But you know who wasn't any trouble? Our new puppy Pippi. Dutiful guardians that we are, we gave nary a thought to how she would react to two guys we hired to help move our stuff, or to the 45-minute car ride to our new place. Pippi gets carsick, a condition that typically makes her shake and drool in equal measure. This time, though, she took refuge in the lap of one of our brawny helpers (he is a saint), who cradled ...