And now for some gory details. . .

Brothers Sharing The Seat

The trip south began on a Saturday morning early in February, 2019. The roads were clear and the temperature was 32 degrees. It was extremely foggy from Nilnilchik to Soldotna. A Toyota called Lander was loaded with 4 snoring cocker spaniels asleep in the backseat, and RockDog assuming his passenger position in the front. They had no idea their life was about to change. This wasn’t just another joy ride to Anchorage. This trip would span days on end causing them stress from their broken routine, resulting in mega emergency stops for the trots that were non-stop amongst them for the next 8 days. But now I’m getting ahead of the story. 

It Wasn't Me!

The plan was to spend the night in Wasilla with family before beginning the marathon ride to Phoenix. That said, early the next morning my first clue of the trip to come was in the kitchen. A spot of diarrhea on the floor and the question was: whodunit? And, no one was talking or in this case barking. The yard was filled with fresh snow with a thick layer of ice underneath. Keep in mind that the dogs are not used to leashes. They are free to go outside in Homer when they want, and are trained to stay near the house—including Anne. However, this trip was going to be different. They were all sporting new color-coordinated harnesses and leashes for their journey south, but were adamantly rejecting the idea. I stopped at the local pet store to buy a retractable leash for the dog pulling me the most—Anne. Her revenge was to twist and turn around me as much as she could so that my legs were bound. The smirk on her lips said it all—leash me if you must, but I will get even. That said, this morning I decided to let Anne off leash (my bad) with the others because her pulling and yanking was killing my knee after having surgery only two weeks ago. 

Four dogs found a spot over the hill in the snow to relieve themselves. I elected to stand on the solid ground in the driveway and ponder the question of who really had diarrhea on the kitchen floor, and not having a clue. All four dogs rushed back to the house, only the lone cocker spaniel with the blonde mop-top was still out. When the dogs went over the hill, Anne went in the opposite direction as usual. So now, to find the wandering one. . . 

Mop-Top

It was 6 AM and no one in the house was awake except me and five dogs. I climbed into the frozen car and waited for the windows to thaw—looking for any movement in the darkness. Anne escaped here once before and was found at the apartment house across the street rummaging around for any scrapes available for the starving dog that she is NOT. I knew she wasn’t in the deep snow so she had to be in a cleared area. I drove to the apartment parking lot. She was not there—why was I not surprised? A trip down the highway to the gas station resulted thankfully, in still no mop-top. Running on the road could have been a disaster. I returned to the house, grabbed a couple dogs and set out to drive the neighborhood yet again. As we lingered past the apartment house I saw some movement in the shadows. We slowed the car down and turned in to find her with her nose to the ground thoroughly engrossed in the act of snooping. I opened the drivers door and she jumped in without a word from me. But, the look she gave me said, “WHAT” with her eyebrows raised. She can indeed be exasperating.

We enjoyed a nice family breakfast before setting off for our first leg, only to Tok, Alaska. Going any further would have meant total darkness for hours before getting anywhere near a motel for the night. The first 3 numbers of the odometer read 884. Ironically that was my phone number as a young child, you know when the operator would ask you what number you wanted? Well, maybe you don’t know. In any event, four is my lucky number so I took that reading as a good luck symbol, and in hindsight it truly was. Did I mention the temperature is now minus in double digits?

She finally got it!

The road to Glennallen can be windy and treacherous through the mountains. Bunny was panting non-stop so I eased barely off the narrow road to give her a bowl of water thinking she was thirsty. We continued on and her panting increased along with non-stop pacing in the back seat. The light bulb finally illuminated in my brain like a slap in the face.  OMG,  she is the one! I frantically found a small space on a steep, curvy turn to pull off the road just in time for the eruption that occurred once she hit the ground. So desperate to squat she immediately assumed the position, poor girl. She was so relieved and so was I that I finally ‘got’ it before the shit hit the seat, literally! An ominous start to the adventure south as we pull into our Tok motel. The temperature read -12 at 7:30 PM. 

Stay tuned as the journey takes us further down the desolate Alaska Highway. . .