When I walked Charlie last night for the last time down our street, he seemed to rush to smell every last blade of grass, tree root, and curb. I began to wonder if he was trying to take in all of his favorite smelling spots one last time. As if he knew we were leaving first thing in thing in the morning. Then I remembered he's a dog and I'm a touch romantic.
Saying goodbye to friends was a bit like breaking up with a guy because he cheated on you, not because you fell out of love with him. You know you're doing the right thing, but in no way does it feel right at the time.
Our road trip today started at 5am with a nasty alarm clock screaming at the top of its lungs. David and I were both wide awake within a few minutes and like a well-oiled machine, we cleaned up, packed the car, and scooped up Charlie on our way. We said goodbye to EVERYTHING; the stairs, the door, the alley. We even hummed a little Mexican ditty we co-wrote while passing our local grocer, the Vallarta.
Charlie was a champion traveler. It was as if he was born to be a road dog, and we were so glad. However, now that we are in the hotel room, he has not been able to generalize the concept of the mirror. At home, he understood it was not another room, nor were there other people that look eerily similar to David and I hanging out inside of it. He's bumped his head several times tonight and barks every time David waves at the mirror. Road dog? Yes. Hotel dog? Work in progress.
David and I had a great time together today, playing car games our friends sent to us, listening to audio books, a great traveling mix tape from Emi, and playing On-The-Road Scavenger Hunt, thanks to Amy's suggestion. We ate a ridiculous amount of vegetable chips from Corey and hung a lovely little air freshener reading, "Jesus thinks my car smells AWESOME," courtesy of Jimmy and Kelly. We really do have some awesome friends.