Bardock, Buddy, Desi & Roma's Trip to the UK
Bardock had a system. He always did. Even in the sterile waiting area, he paced the same three steps, turned, paced them again, as if running through some invisible chore list only he could see. Buddy, on the other hand, lay flat on the floor beside him, utterly unbothered, a small furry monument to Zero F@*#$ Given. Desi pressed close to Roma's side, ears twitching at every sound, every voice, every shift in the air. And Roma, gorgeous as always, simply waited to be adored, already sure that she would be.
Then came the interview. The paperwork. The long, nervous hours of "any minute now" that stretched into "surely soon" and then, finally, into the moment itself.
The door opened.
Chaos. The good kind, the kind that comes wrapped in kisses and cuddles and joyful noise. Bardock forgot his routines entirely and threw himself forward. Buddy, somehow, found an extra gear he never used and came bounding in with the rest. Desi burrowed into open arms like he needed to check, again and again, that this was real and not some feeling he'd have to sort through alone. And Roma accepted her share of affection like the queen she knew herself to be, giving just as much love right back.
It was heaven. Loud, messy, tear-streaked heaven.
Now a whole new country waits outside the door, and the United Kingdom has no idea what it signed up for. Every inch of the new property will be marked, thoroughly and with great ceremony. Every bird will be barked at, on principle. And somewhere out in a green field, four dogs are about to meet their first sheep, a creature none of them have words for yet but all of them are determined to understand.
Best of all, there's the seashore. Different from Malibu, different from Zuma, different from Santa Monica, but salt is salt and sand is sand, and four tails are already wagging at the thought of it.
Welcome home, Bardock, Buddy, Desi, and Roma. The adventure starts now.