We all grew up with the idea of the city mouse and his country cousin.  Disney even based portions of an animated movie on the contrast.  (Hint: think Ratatouille.)  However, we always apply the concept to ourselves, not realizing that our best friends, too, have some adjusting when they move from one environment to the other. We learned through experience that moving from the city to rural areas can pose interesting challenges to the furred members of the family.

Moving our  housecat  resulted in no more trauma than happens with any change to his day to day routine.  In other words, he left his complaints where we could step on them, but anyone who has cats knows that this kind of behavior his normal.  Cats are creatures of habit; changing their food can drive them psycho.  The only real change we noticed occured after Cat encountered the scorpion.  The sequence went roughly:
    1.  Oh my, a new toy!
    2.  Oh my, a tasty new snack!
    3.   You kids can go to bed.  I'm going to check whether any more tasty snacks are wandering around the house.

Luckily, Cat lives indoors.  Coyotes haunt our neck of the high desert.  If he spent nights outside, like many city cats, he would either be quick or dead. 

The dogs, on the other hand, encountered new smells and new animals - coyotes, horses, burros,  emus... 
Even when they were locked in the dog run, the wind would bring enticing scents to arouse them.

One dog is an experienced traveler  and possesses social graces.  She touched noses with the burros, barked at the coyotes and generally enjoyed the new environment.  Not so for her adoptive sibling.  Young Dog immediately used his puzzle working talents to become an escape artist.  If there was a weakness in our security, he found it.   The problems with this were manifold: 
    1.    Young Dog has no fear of automobiles.
    2.    Young Dog's curiosity led him into situations he cannot get out of - like the neighbor's rooftop.
    3.   Despite our attempts to train him,  Young Dog's social skills are on a par with that relative everyone wants to lock in a closet.  In other words, socially, he's drooling idiot.  Lunging at another animal is interpreted by creatures ranging from horses to dogs as an attack and situations deteriorate from there.  In reality, Young Dog is like the Johnny Cash character who screams his introduction "HI.  MY NAME IS SUE.  HOW DO YOU DO?"    In other words, Young Dog was an embarassment to all of us, including his adoptive sister.  (Even dogs can have crazy relatives.)   This posed a further problem in this rural area where too many dogs run loose and even form packs; Young Dog's social ineptitude could put me in the middle of a
major dog fight.

The solution?   Of course we tightened up security, but Young Dog showed us we needed more; he and I needed a profession intervention, aka training. Things are changing,  Now when I order Young Dog to ignore that barking dog nearby, people with other dogs turn and flee.  (Before, they simply told me I was cruel not to let Young Dog play with their Fluffy.)  Young Dog and I have grown closer and he no longer paces the kennel looking for a way to escape.  Has he acclimated to the country and solved our problems?  No.  Young Dog still needs to improve his meeting and greeting.  But things go forward.