Separations

The pups are real travel champs. I don't know anyone who is easier to travel with than Fips and Rosco. But there is no question that it is hard on them. They like the adventure of going somewhere and yet at the same time they are on constant "separation alert." They eye my every move and for the past two nights Fips has engaged in affirmative snuggling. And so, this morning, rather than suffer their anxieties in addition to mine, I put the pals into the truck as I did my final repacks. After all, at this point, the truck is the most familiar environment, almost as constant as me myself.

At noon, we checked out of the Dog Motel, and headed north to Lynden, through vast fields and family farms encompassed by a distant ring of majestic mountains.


Reaching Canada at last....

... or almost. What the sign should have said was "Leaving the Homeland -- Prepare for Search" But for all the doggies knew, the border exit point was simply a place to lull around and back scratch on the grass, before being lifted back into the truck and heading on toward Aldergrove.

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