Am I suffering from writer’s block? I left Alaska over a month ago and have yet to write a blog. Another trip south and lots of diarrhea—the dogs, not me. What’s to say about that other than it’s a shitty deal? And, it made for a long, exasperating 8 days to Phoenix. Not to mention the ice and snow that followed us until we got there. So much for inspiration but then again, maybe this is what writer’s block truly is; no desire to put words on paper. After making excuses, this is an attempt to do just that.
Our last jaunt south was with 6 dogs, 3 have crossed over the Rainbow Bridge since 2012 and we have 2 new ones. So, if you do the math you know this trip includes 5 dogs, all cocker spaniels. Why does it seem so much harder than the previous trips south? Maybe because the players are different. Or perhaps this player has a knee that has yet to feel better after surgery. Being jerked around on leashes has been difficult at best especially when I slipped on the ice in my Birkenstocks, landing so hard on my ass that my teeth rattled. There is a point of no return when you are out of control moving toward the earth. In a split second you can recover and right yourself, but if that passes you are on your way down and there is nothing that can be done. Once I realized that’s where I was I just let it rip, didn’t even try to stop, thinking I had enough padding back there to see me through. My tailbone ached for over a week, and even now, if I sit a particular way I am once again reminded of Bette Birk walking on the ice in her sandals, and the scary point of no return. It was a blessing to do nothing but drive while my butt slowly healed.
Along with driving 12-hours a day, I stopped multiple times for potty breaks (particularly with diarrhea being passed between the troops). One day in particular on the Alaska highway, we had 3 accidents in the back seat where there was absolutely no place to pull over, and the bomb could not be contained. This may be way TMI, sorry. Much farther south in Idaho, I was forced to pull off the freeway in a snowstorm landing us in a wide open field just in time to get out of the car for yet another blowout. Once it was over I needed to scrape snow off the windows to find the freeway. The wind was howling. Somehow, we managed and survived the shitstorms with humor. We exhausted the diarrhea and probiotic pills that we left Alaska with and bought yogurt until we could order more once we arrived at destination #1, Phoenix.
And then lastly, to find a hotel that would take us. Sometimes I neglected to even mention the dogs, fearing a rejection and being so spent that was not an option. I would have been reduced to a blubbering idiot had that been the case. Fortunately most hotels were okay with a pet; we never specified the number 5, just in case. Getting unloaded and into our room quietly was an ordeal followed by the feeding frenzy and another walk. At some point, can’t remember the city, we checked into a Motel 6 (always dog friendly) only to find we had to walk past the front desk, there was no outside entrance. And, the only place to walk the dogs was on concrete near the four-lane highway. Never mind the smokers milling around the front door, and the sirens. The windows were barred, DUH. That was our first clue this might not be the best neighborhood to spend the night. We got our money back and reluctantly moved on—to a much nicer Motel 6 on the other side of the tracks.
The dogs slept most of the time, day after day—such good travelers. The downside being, when we stopped at night they were ready for some action and I was ready to relax; I needed to RELAX! By the time we were unloaded, fed and walked, I found myself collapsing into bed without dinner. It was just too much trouble. I survived many days with a protein cookie provided by one of my gracious clients, chips and a soda. I did manage to take a few bubble baths to soothe my aching ass. No booze on the marathon drive, I didn’t want to relax that much for fear of not wanting to move forward. We were up and at it by 7:15 each morning.
More details to follow. . .
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