It was the morning of January 1st and I was laying in bed while my pug Marley gingerly snored from my suitcase full of clothes. I was 39 and living half unpacked in a house under construction wondering what had become of my life. Uncle Dan’s comment just wouldn’t leave my mind. Right then and I there I committed to the trip.
P.S. surprisingly there was no hangover to speak of so the decision was a clear one. 
Hey Jeff,
I’m glad team Scruffy House inspired you to start this adventure…
Think of this when travelling across Canada – taken from your original post and re-mastered to be more “Scruffy House” relevant:
“Upstairs there is some scratching around and to your horror, a Pug is defecating on the floor…” 😉
All the best mate!
Cheers
Scott
A pug would never get caught, they are too stealth! Besides I think it was our friendly neighborhood mouse 🙂