Southern Comfort

​It’s only been a week, and Tucker has already made a friend just as goofy and sweet as he is:

​This office is so dog friendly, there is even a courtyard for them to romp and play in. Of course, Tucker and Ollie prefer the challenge of a small indoor space in which to wrestle where it’s air-conditioned. 

My trusty steed acquired a mild ailment, so while she was getting fixed up, Tucker got to experience how other people ride.
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In the crew van he didn’t sit next to me or even on the floor which was quite spacious. He hopped up and took a seat behind me, you know, like any other crew member.

​When we needed to borrow a car to get home one night, our status suddenly raised to a whole new level. I put towels down in the hopes that Tucker wouldn’t scratch up the leather seats of the Chrysler 300. 

Note: there is a sunshade that rises from behind the backseat to cover the back window. Evidently, it can be activated from the backseat--make sure you figure which button that is before you take off. It's like a driving a spaceship, and the only thing worse than a backseat driver is a backseat dog who can unwittingly activate functions you didn't even know your car had. (Googling at stop lights for the rest of the ride home, I found the sequence of buttons on my dash to put it back down again.)

By the end of the week, my trusty steed sans luxury features was her old (young) self again and we were off to the mountains.
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Unbeknownst to me, it was National Public Lands Day. Parking was free, and this little critter greeted us on the first sign.

Unlike in Santa Fe, where I had to search long and hard to find trails with water, here in Georgia having one without is rare. After being so long in the desert, Tucker couldn’t believe his senses when we stood on a bridge overlooking greenery and a stream.

He was so happy to get his paws wet and taste clear water with just a hint of a few autumn leaves.

He climbed on rocks...

and looked up river by the old mill...

We climbed up to the dam.

... and discovered the dam might not be providing 100% containment anymore. Someone might want to check on that.

It is still hot here in the south, but it’s not a dry heat. There’s water everywhere not just spilling out of the cracks of dams but even in the air. The trees branches bend politely when you accidentally brush against them. The ground is soft and welcoming beneath your feet.

​This was only the first of many bridges to cross, streams to wade in, and forest trails to walk upon.