.... and how it changed my life...
I've made cross country trips every year now since 2004, initially on my motorcycle, but more recently (as a concession to my aging body), by RV. I live near Philadelphia, but love the west - west of the Rockies that is, so the first few days of any journey are just traveling. Endless miles, up early, brew the coffee, hit the road, stop for a burrito, get gas, refuel the RV, hit the road, pull into a Wal-Mart parking lot, eat, sleep, repeat.... I've traveled I-70/I-80 seven times since 2004, and there are still bits that seem new - but it was just a road to where I wanted to go. But then along came Max....
In 2006, a year or so after taking early retirement, I finally decided to find a dog once more, my work had precluded me devoting the time I feel needs to be accorded this common household pet, after all, cats just have Staff, but dogs... well they insist you pay attention - all the time. A local shelter, found on-line, had a three year old black Labradoodle looking for a home. We took him out for a test drive - and were hooked. He was big, but really thin, only 55 pounds, not through neglect, but because he just paced and paced and paced all day - they couldn't feed him enough - he really needed a home, so he got one. A big lovable fuzz-ball of a dog, Labrador temperament, and poodle fur...
A month later we hit the road for a six week RV trip - hope he travels well...
He took to the lifestyle right away, mind you, he was so glad for human company I think he would have volunteered for the Iditarod. I drove, he slept. Every couple of hours, he'd get up, look at me in a way that said "Perhaps we should pull over..." So we did - at the next Rest Stop. He'd wander round, pee, pooh, eat a biscuit, drink a half gallon of water, and settle down to slumber for another two hours.
Perfect.
And so life changed. No more the mindless chase across country, no more Wal-Marts. Now we proceeded in a civilized manner, stopping every couple of hours, a little exercise, a drink, perhaps a snack... and a civilized campground every night. Decent cooked meals, a slower pace of life, time to reflect, time to walk the new countryside every evening with Max, whose data bank of new smells was fast becoming full again. No longer the blur of the road, my companion insisted I slow down, and so I did. We both refilled our data banks, and we both learned to relax.
Just lucky you say? I don't think so. The universe has a way of telling you to slow down and see through someone else's eyes - Max was that message for me.
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