When it came to getting ready for a cross-country trip, things went a lot smoother the second time around. Heather increased the storage space beneath my bed, and they knew from last year’s photographs exactly how to pack the rear section most efficiently. As soon as we rolled out of Seattle, everyone settled easily into her or his appointed roles: Heather the Driver, Mike the Navigator, Chloë the Queen.
From my backseat throne I could see everything, coming and going. Only on the straightaway interstates did I let myself doze off. All local streets, scenic drives and curvy roads demanded my constant attention. I quickly discovered that by whining whenever I wanted something, I could mandate the pace of our daily progress and dictate the behavior of Driver and Navigator alike. When they started to reach back to poke me for whining, I learned to flee to the far corner behind the driver’s seat as soon as the Navigator looked back at me, knowing he would have to undo his seat belt, get up from his perfectly positioned back cushion, rise and turn his whole body around in order to make contact with me. Not worth his effort, so I win again. And whine again.
We took a different route this time, further south than last year, which meant more hot weather. Too hot. In Utah it was 102 degrees, and there wasn’t a lot of shade, either. Nice breeze, though! In Washington, D.C., and Syracuse, the temperature hit the high 90s, but it felt like 200 because of the stifling humidity. Sometimes we took our long walk of the day in the morning, trying to beat the heat. Through it all, I soldiered on. “She’s a trooper,” Heather said often. Good thing Mike brought along plenty of beef jerky and made Frozen PBBs on the road this time, because I was deserving of lots of treats.
Were my sterling behavior not enough for praise, I won additional points by remaining calm after cutting the side of my face in a sniffing incident near Bear Lake in northeastern Utah. Whatever the source of the laceration, it was rapidly discovered because of the blood dripping from my snout onto the sidewalk amidst the interpretive signage. Nurse Heather did an excellent job under fire by stopping the bleeding and applying antibiotic ointment on the wound. A scab formed quickly that I proudly wore all the way to Syracuse. You can see it to the right of my nose in the photo above. Thankfully, it just fell off by itself one night before I started to pick at it. I’ll no doubt have a scar on my snout, but the hair is already growing back and should mostly cover it. My pristine countenance will continue unmarred.
There were other traumatic experiences on the trip, but I’ll save some tales for another day. On the plus side, I enjoyed improved accommodations throughout the trip, mostly thanks to my pal Charlie cluing in Mike that LaQuinta Inns are dog-friendly with no fee. Mike liked that part a lot. I still slept in my travel crate every night, but in the morning Heather was a little more lenient about my napping arrangements than she had been last year.We’ll see how it goes on the way back.