When Dodger was just a wee orange and white pup, he left his birth mother and joined a human family. This is, I hear, quite common amongst his species.
His human family had a busy mother, an IT geek father, cats, kidlets and a rabbit. Thus, there were walks to be had, things to chase, food dropped on the floor and a furry, if cantankerous, long eared companion in the back porch. Dodger was happy.
Tomorrow, Dodger's human family is relocating across the Atlantic. Not wanting Dodger to suffer the indignities of extra vet visits, quarantines, loneliness and British weather, his family found Dodger a new home. Friends had a new home and, in many ways, a new family where pets and people were still getting used to cohabitation.
A new family with cats, kidlets and rabbits, but no dog? Obviously, this second family was lacking the most essential thing -- Dodger.
(Dodger was allowed to bring his very own rabbit with him. Just in case he was lonely. The rabbit was resigned to the upheaval and swiftly resumed his cantankerous ways.)
After a few weeks with his new family, Dodger raised his sad puppy dog eyes his new human mother and stared intently. Skilled in communicating with non-verbal beings, she knew just what he was trying to tell her. Obviously, Dodger had noticed how much his first and second families used computers and decided that there should be furious typing, even a blog, dedicated to him and his adjustment to this new family.
This way, his first and second human families could discuss his charms and antics. The kidlets of both families could look at pictures of his dignified profile. The cats could turn up their whiskered noses in disgust. And, perhaps, the human mothers could rant about how much mischief one middle aged Brittany Spaniel could get into.