Hi, it’s Tango. Jane has forgotten how to write and conjugate simple verbs, thanks to “problems” with the blog site. While she sharpens her pencils, rereads Strunk and White, and clears the debris from her foggy mind, I will fill in.
Here is the news: I am sick of city life. I should be herding grizzly bears in Yellowstone instead of parading around as arm candy. Grandpa Marvin’s home health people ooh and ah when I greet them at the door. The doormen and some friendly tenants here goo-goo ga-ga when I emerge from the elevator for my daily walks. Yes, I am handsome, but I do have other attributes; I have a brain and physical prowess. And, I need to be outdoors most of the day, sniffing out potentially dangerous critters. This high-rise apartment living is for poodles, shit-zees and French bulldogs, not a ruff and ready herding dog.
What am I to do? During her nightly visits to the nursing home, Jane tells Grandma Alice that I am “acting out”. Darn tootin. I have to get someone’s attention. Yesterday, I jumped up on the dining table chair and pulled a full pack of cheddar cheese/peanut butter crackers out of a bowl. I should have hidden in the office and savored my prize, but I pranced around showing off and Jane snatched it from my mouth. The day before, I rummaged through the trash cans and pulled out the Buster Bar wrappers and licked them clean. For further effect, I shredded the wrappers into tiny pieces. What a glorious mess. I prefer rooting through the forest and resent somewhat being reduced to garbage hounding. I am getting attention, though. Yesterday we had a splendid outing to the vet for my rabies shot and, afterward, shared two cheeseburgers from McDonald’s.
Today we go to the groomers. How nice it will be to have the ladies pamper me. I am scheduled for my nails, a shampoo, and cut. Of course, I will look like a naked mole rat when I get out of there, but we have cross-country travel starting Aug 12 and I need to be cool as we traverse the Midwest in August. We plan to skedaddle to the cooler mountains without dawdling much.
Will I miss city life? Yes and no. I am not a fan of cement sidewalks for my strolls. I will miss a game that involves the elevators. One morning, the middle elevator opened and a small, truffle-eating French bulldog pranced out. I growled and pulled at the leash. He growled back. We made quite a scene in the lobby. I haven’t had this much fun since I had to run off the bison from our campsite outside Yellowstone. Anyway, when we wait for the elevators now, I dance in anticipation of the bulldog springing out. I sniff at the bottom edge of the doors and work up a frenzy. Then–ta da–the doors open and……nothing. Where is that darn bulldog? I know he is hiding somewhere in there. I smell him! We enter the elevator and as the elevator drops to the garage level I sniff frantically. Ah-ha! Now I am certain the dog will be waiting on the other side of the doors when they open. The little elevator voice announces “Ground Floor” and I stand ready to pounce. The doors open and….nothing. Where is that mauvais chien? Sniff sniff sniff. Jane pulls me to the garage and the game ends until we arrive back home and I start the elevator game once again all the way up to our floor.
The home health people thought I lived here and now lament that I am leaving next week. Before the housekeepers (mom and grown daughter) left yesterday, they got down on the floor and took tons of photos with me. “Oh, he is the cutest dog I ever saw”, the usual stuff. Jane has noted in private that no one seems to be concerned that she is leaving. It is me they love and me only.
Jane has mixed feelings about leaving. New bonds form and old ones deepen after so many months. She has been with her brothers more than any time in the last ten years. The old hometown has grown on her. Still, we have not lounged under the full moon all summer. No coyote howls in the early morning. No mountain vistas. No bison poop for me to roll in. The needle in our nature meter is falling into the “depraved” zone. She understands that the “mountains are calling and we must go” – again and again and again.
Besides, that grandbaby is due in about 10 weeks! While we laze here in the Midwest, Silas is growing like a weed, mercilessly kicking his mom’s bladder and pushing on her back. I like him already–a real brawler. Can’t wait to roll around on the floor with him.
Departure date: August 12, 2017
Destination: Rocky Mountains
Route: slightly lower this time, probably I 76 for some of the trip
Set-up: the RV is still in Montana so we will be staying with friends and van camping for a few weeks.
