My sister has this little room in her basement filled with prepper and survival type supplies, gear and food. I've always joked that I'm coming to this house if the apocalypse comes, and now I'm living in this room with all the gear, most of my worldly posessions and 4 little dogs: Smokey, Spot, Ty and my bossy girlfriend, Zoey.
It's been very strange going from a large McMansion with 3 full floors, to a small room. Obviously I feel the sting of everything I've lost, but now I'm not cleaning this monstrous house all day, every day, and I'm not worried about the mortgage and the property taxes and the plumbing and, well, you get the idea. The loss comes with a corresponding loss of stress.
And the dogs actually seem happy and excited by the change in scenery. My big house came with an obnoxious gated community next store that dug a large gap under my backyard fence because it fit into whatever landscaping vision they forced on their community and my street.
None of us could let our little dogs out because they would all escape into the gated community, who would then send us nasty letters reminding us that we were trespassing on their property. Long story short, we couldn't let our little dogs outside most of the time even though we had this big house with a big backyard.
Here at my sister's house, it sounds like every house on the block has multiple dogs, and the 4 little new dogs in the basement already get lost in the chorus of barky neighborhood pooches. Losing my job and my house and becoming homeless, I had to choose which family member to inflict my 4 little dogs on, and so far it's going better than I thought it would!