I misspoke yesterday when I said today would be the end of our journey. Yes, we will reach California and happily land at Mom and Dad’s house, but the true end comes tomorrow. When the last box has been unloaded from the U-Haul, then the journey is complete.
During our stay with Mama and Papa, Bailey selected to sleep on the cool stone floor rather than the bed as is her tradition. Or so I thought. Jaime and I were sitting on my bed talking on our last night in Arizona. Bailey was pacing around the bed with pleading eyes. We both encouraged her up on the bed but she wouldn’t jump. Finally she made an attempt and with it came whines of discomfort and a retreat. Some time ago Bailey hurt her hip and it seems that she has restrained that area. She refused to jump, even up on the bed. Thankfully we are at the end of this adventurous drive. Having to pick a 75 pound dog up and load her in the U-Haul is not an activity I’d like to master more than needed. As I expected, she refused to even try to jump when it was time to go. She paced in front of the passenger door, then tucked her tail between her legs and cowered. With Papa holding her back half and me taking the front half, we hoisted her up.
Mama and Papa set us on the road in style. In true grandparent spoiling they fed us a country breakfast and packed our ice chest full of goodies. Staying with them was such a pleasurable stop on our journey and they certainly added to the memories of our trip.
For those that are not familiar, when a vehicle crosses into the state of California it is inspected by the border patrol. California takes agriculture very seriously and no pesky bugs from other states are allowed. No fruits, vegetables, or plants are allowed through the gates. We pulled up to the inspection site and Bailey stands in her seat to see what’s up. The officer laughed and said, “Whoa, that’s not a dog that’s a horse!” The standard questions of traveling from, destination, and reason were asked. When I stated New York he asked if we were from upstate. That prompted a conversation about towns and such as he actually knew the area. After inspecting our ice chest and U-Haul he bid us safe travels. A very nice, and if I may add, quite cute, border patrol.
Remember how at the beginning of our journey I mentioned how the feeling of not being in a small town any longer creep up on me? Well it did just that to Jaime during one of our gas stops. The station was next to empty so we took our time. Jaime took Bailey for a walk, I checked straps and such, and we both pulled out treats for the next driving stretch. I need to mention that Jaime keeps her backpack at her feet during the day. All her “stuff” is hidden among the depths of that bag. So when she unloaded Bailey at the station she pulled the backpack out and placed it on the cement next to the tire. After we had successfully hauled Bailey up to her seat, I moved around to the driver seat. The gentleman in the gas lane next to us began talking to Jaime. Once we were on the road again I asked what the conversation was about. She said he was a kind man just looking out for her. He warned that it was not safe to leave anything simply lying on the ground as she had done with her backpack. Heavy sigh. In Beaver Falls you could not only leave a backpack next to your truck, but could do so for hours with no worries of it being taken. I’m sure going to miss that life.
As the landscape became familiar Jaime bubbled with excitement. When we came to the exit for Clovis Avenue she squealed like a three-year-old. Silly girl; I think she is happy to be back in California.

