Dawny’s Journal

Dictated Monday 7/7:

Arghhh… 16 hours!  16 hours, you hear that?  Mom thinks I can’t count but I sure enough can, and I let her know FAITHFULLY (like a good dog) every two hours that it was time to stretch our legs and pee on a few rocks and bushes.  Anyhow, we are finally here.  Wherever “here” is.

More importantly, the few things we have left–admittedly, the most important things, like food and cookies and toys (only 8 tennis balls–I must have left 20 good ones back in our big-house yard) are now loaded into this HUGE doggie-mover that Mom says is our new house.  I think I must have peed on, like, six wheels!

It seems to have everything we had in our big-yard house that we left.  A kitchen (yay! pans to lick!), a bed (wish it was mine), a Mom bathroom (I still don’t get that whole process–what is wrong with the grass?).  It even has an outside shower for my baths.  Sheesh, thanks Mom.

I sure hope Mom settles down now.  I swear I thought she had gone stark raving mad there for awhile–getting rid of, well, our whole house.  Bopping around in our little doggie-mover and living in what she called our hotel-house for 9 days (I kept count).  I gotta admit, though, we had some great walks, walks like we haven’t had together in years.  Poor thing had a case of fear-based depression or something.  She says I used to have a case of fear-based aggression.  I guess that’s one reason we understand each other so well.

Ah well, that seems to have blown over as the world has flown by our windows for–did I tell you?–16 hours!  Sheesh, she’s calling me Road Doggie now since I’m so awesome at this.

Dictated Saturday 7/12:

Well, I’ll be darned.  Mom took the annoying little bell off of the kitchen blinds.  I suppose the little ringing sound it made as we rolled down the road wasn’t worth it to her.  She seemed sorta wistful for something called gypsy caravans at the time.  I understand way more than she thinks, but some things will never make sense.

All I know right now (and right now is all that counts) is that I would love to burn this harness.   But I guess Mom’s right that it is good for all these walks.  I sure wish she could walk faster, though.  Hmmm, I DO have twice as many legs as her, so I should give her a break.  She always teases me about my “lack of opposable thumbs,” as she puts it.  I say, who needs ’em?  Just give me enough time and I KNOW I can open that doorknob with my mouth!  Ah well, it all seems to even out and we make a good team out of it.

I saw a new critter today.  Mom called it a chipmunk.  She made me stay back and just look at it until it ran off into the woods.  What a waste of a perfect bite-sized varmint!  Then we saw some deer.  I’ve seen those before at my big-house yard, where I could bark at them to my heart’s content.  Mom seems to think it’s important we stay quieter now as we move to different places and see different things and critters.  Something to do with respect and sharing territory.  Whatever.  I am not one to argue.  Honest.

The hardest part is not barking at other doggies, though, especially when they bark at me!  Mom!  Have you no sense at all?  No mercy?  Ugh!  Arghhhh!  Grrrrr….. AROOOFF!!!!  Ahhh, that feels better now.

Wish me luck on that, OK?  And if you talk to my Mom, tell her she can take this leash off me and I’ll be good.  I promise I promise I promise!  Bye now!  We’re heading out for our fourth walk of the day!  AROOOFF!!!!

Oh Lord… What Have I Done?

 

First full day is today, but yesterday was technically the first day.  I cheated!  I had every intention of writing a blog post on our very first day with our mobile house but instead I was curled up in fetal position, crying “Oh Lord, what have I done?”

So, we’ll just call today the first day instead, since it is much prettier.  I suppose in the interest of full disclosure and honesty, however, I should report on our yesterday.

Well, Dawny and I left a dear friend’s house on Sunday morning.  Our visit was a lovely transition from nine days of hotel living after the house closed, nine days of burgers and fries, nine days of nervous anticipation.  We eagerly set out, full of adrenaline and coffee and drove straight through, arriving in Elkhart, Indiana at midnight.

I was so bleary eyed by then that I chose to check into a hotel that I thought was a Day’s Inn.  Turned out it just had the word Day in it.  It should have been called Nightmare’s Inn.. on Elm Street… where The Exorcist welcomes The Shining Freddy Krueger!  I won’t belabor the nasty details but we fled after 30 minutes and ended up in the parking lot of Phoenix USA, our mobile house’s manufacturer, dog-and-cat napping fitfully until the sun rose, at which time we wandered around town killing a few more hours until our appointment for the walkthrough and purchase.

By this time, I looked like Bozo the Clown’s graying, gender-confused sibling–a result of a haircut stuck at that perpetually awkward stage of growth, humidity, and nasty sweat.  I must say, the people at Phoenix USA were amazingly patient and kind as they efficiently completed the transaction.  They artfully managed to get back on topic whenever I strayed off into babbling tangents like a delirious dog tracking a bouncing bunny.

Now the hard part.  As if 3 hours of sleep in 30 and a looming monster case of dehydration weren’t enough.  It was time to unload.  Transfer.  Toss the result of months of downsizing from a 1600 square foot house into the 200 square feet (including the engine, which is hardly fair, but so be it) that comprised our beautiful new RV.  (Oh, did I forget to tell you?  It is beautiful!)

Working furiously so that I could complete the task before collapsing, I managed to get all the tote bags, plastic bags, boxes, and multitudes of assorted plastic containers loaded in.  All over the floor, the bed, the dinette.  Some still outside.  There was barely room to crawl into bed, stomach nauseous, head throbbing, crying out loud, “Oh Lord, what have I done?”

Sick, alone, far from family and friends, when my pounding skull would allow, I peeked at all my… stuff… knowing that I just had to make myself unpack.  As I rested and gradually rehydrated, I slowly started in, mostly just tossing things into approximately logical places, and cursing at myself:  “What was I thinking packing all of these breakables??  Insane!  Oh Lord, what have I done?”

But I kept moving, a step a box a drawer, a bag a shelf a prayer at a time.  Eventually had enough put away that I rewarded myself and Dawny with a Subway sandwich–in an earnest attempt to wean ourselves from those intestine-clogging burgers–took a shower, and collapsed into bed.

Which brings us to today.  A pretty day.  A healthy day.  A day framed in rational, rested perspective.  And a day of humble gratitude.

By day’s end, I have everything in its place and not only does it all fit, there is room to spare.  Those breakables that I resented yesterday are today sitting in places where they warm my heart with their sentiments and memories.  It feels like home.  It is home.

I practiced driving a lot today and got the stamp of approval from Phoenix’s owner, who was brave enough to ride shotgun and give me tips and confidence.  I’ll probably head out in a day or two, ready to continue the journey in earnest.

Meanwhile, now that the dream has met reality, I am thankful that it has come out of the experience stronger, polished, and with an important footnote attached that reminds me that dreams are best when they come alive… really alive… the good, bad, beautiful, and ugly parts all tossed together… like a gigantic veggie salad… with NO burgers and NO fries!

P.S. Dawny has been bugging me to let her get a word in edgewise soon.  Next post will be hers.