Since You've Been Gone

It’s been quite awhile since my last post which would correspond with our last hike—in the high deserts of New Mexico.

Since the last week in July, we returned home to sunny southern California, which albeit is a desert, is at sea level. Makes a world of difference when it comes to breathing. Tucker got comfy and relaxed back on the couch.

And was quite pleased to take in the wafting smell of freshly mowed grass and feel the cool, damp earth beneath a soft layer of lawn.

​We tried to see an outdoor movie together like we used to do, but it was all just too exciting for him. For the sake of everyone around us, we decided to call it quits and watch the DVD of the movie back home.

I’m not saying it isn’t hot in this California desert, but Tucker seems much happier to let his tongue hang out on Trex decking than on desert landscaping.

​We made the yard into an agility course.

Tucker found my sad excuse for a tire jump positively hilarious.

​Tucker even made a friend.

​Pete and him had bi-weekly playdates to run around like maniacs together and play tug.

​But our time at home was cut abruptly short when I received a call for a job. Despite my sadness in making Tucker bid farewell to his new friend for a spell, I couldn’t say no to a good job with good people.

​Tucker was so tired from spending the afternoon with Pete, he didn’t even care that I started packing our suitcases.

The next morning, Tucker and I hit the road to cover just under two thousand miles in three days.

​Much like a midnight trip to Vegas, my travelling companion was first quite excited.

And then about an hour in was bored enough to snuggle up with his owl and nap most of the way.

Apparently Arizona expects lazy dogs. I couldn’t find a dog walking sign, but here is where dogs can sit.

Right around the middle of the country, where there is a severe lack of rest stops (lots of picnic places, but nothing with restrooms and places to walk--or sit--your dog),  I passed a sign with a cross on it that read, “Inspiring Rest Stop, Next Exit!”

Tucker hadn’t peed in about five hours, and I didn’t see any harm in giving us a few minutes to stretch our legs, so I put my blinker on and headed down the off ramp.

I assumed with inspiration and a cross, that I would end up at a mission (because I live in California which is dotted with missions all up the coast.) This, however, was not a mission. A ministry yes, but not the missions I have been to with a chapel and gardens. It was more like Jesus-centric park. It had one of the largest crosses I have ever seen. In fact, it almost made me exclaim under my breath, "Jesus!"

A quick Google search informed me that it’s 19 stories high and its owner is the Cross of the Lord Jesus Christ Ministries (or perhaps that's the name of the cross.) It is the tallest thing as far as the eye can see—except for all the windmills. You thought Texas was just an oil field? Nope. It produces more wind power—clean energy—than any other state.

I am grateful they allow dogs in this well-groomed park-like setting. However, I had to keep reminding Tucker “No, don’t pee on that” whenever we came across a statue, plaque, or gravestone. This outdoor art house dedicated to the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ had fourteen stations in a circle around the cross where there were 14 gruesome depictions of the events leading up to it:

Tucker got to sit at the table for the Last Supper, something I don’t think was on his bucket list or mine, but what the hell, right?

​Just around the back of the memorial was a replica of the Tomb of Christ. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to stop Tucker before he tagged the stone, but given that he hadn’t peed on anything else, it was a quite a feat. And of course, Tucker got a photo op here too.

The final day on the road offered no grand inspirational religious experiences, but in Arkansas I got my own inspiration: just a touch of Autumn.

As a New Englander born in October, Fall is my season. The smell of leaves and wood fireplaces, the sight of the hills painted in red and gold and amber, and the chill in the air at nightfall is what I live for. I realized that this will be my first birthday spent on the east coast in almost 20 years. Granted, Atlanta is more “south” than “east coast,” but the Appalachia and the Great Smokies aren’t too far away. You can be sure that despite our southern zip code for the next couple of months, Tucker and I will be experiencing a whole lot of East Coast Autumn.