HOME SECURITY, THE C.N.A. AND THE MARINE CORPS

Hello fans. Some of you are growling that you haven’t heard from me lately. I know Judy posts these photos that depict that I am like all my other cat cousins.  

 

 

Yes that’s me after a long day on the road.

 

 And yes, I know. That was after a long day at the computer.

 

 

 

 

 Judy monitors my mail and finds these photos my friends send to me. I know none of these show how my feline friends are hard working, I want to explain and  defend my friends.

 I met Tallahassee Tabby  when her mom PEGGY KASSEES attended the 2013 Santa Barbara Writers Conference. T.T., that’s what I call Tallahassee Tabby, Sent me this photo after she and Peggy returned to Tallahassee, Florida from that hectic conference in California. T.T. told me her mom, who is president of the Tallahassee Writers Association, was busy that day writing an article for the club.

 

 

 

This is my friend  from New Orleans, Louisiana. This is a selfie he took on Bourbon Street after last year’s Mardi gras.  The only explanation I  have: He says he  NEVER overdoes it like he did last year.

I’m trying to  explain to you, my fans, that  pictures are deceiving. Take a look at the following  photos and I'm sure you'll be convinced, I am not a lazy cat.

I've had to wear many hats lately. The first hat, my CNA Nursing  Association hat. Judy was sick for almost three days. . Nothing serious, just a very bad cold. Remember  when Judy was sick in the emergency room in Deming, New Mexico? The nurses there gave me  honorary membership for taking such great care of my mom.

First she was hot then she was cold, then she was hot and then she was cold. When I was snuggled up in the covers to keep her warm, she kicked them and me off the bed. "I'm hot." she complained,  When I wanted to entertain her, she pulled the bedsheets over her head and ignored me I'm sure if she had played peek-a-boo with me she would have felt better.  Mom always complains I sleep too much, but now I understand  how boring that can be.

 On the second day,  due to my excellent care,  she began feeling better. I found  old movies on AMC, "Passage  To India" and "Dr. Zhivago" and the day passed pleasantly.

 

 I periodically had to take off  my nursing hat and replace it with  my chef's hat.  Although opening a can of Chicken Noodle soup is in no way  a demonstration of  my culinary abilities, that was all she requested.  I  made sure she drank lots of water too.

 

 Last week, before Judy fell sick, we both had  been freaked out because a friend Judy walks with, who lives four houses down, was a victim of a home invasion robbery. Luckily the two men only knocked the woman to the floor while they stole her jewelry. I’m sorry if you disagree, but if I had been on duty, they'd be calling the coroner, not 911.  

Lucky for us, Judy had already signed up for firearms training at Front sight Firearms Training Institute in Pahrump, Nevada.Unfortunately, I had to cancel Judy’s first class until she felt better. So now I have put on my beanie hat and taken over home security. 

Spread the word. Until Judy sharpens up on her firearm skills, I'm on duty. I can be a bad ass cat.

 Before Judy took to bed  with her horrific cold, I had also been busy with her editor. INVISIBLE HEROES is nearing its final stages and we all have been working long hours.

With the book near completion, Judy is looking  at cover designs as well as, what we call in the book business, beta readers. Beta readers read the manuscript not just for grammar accuracy, which of course is important, but also to examine the structure and believability of the story. INVISIBLE HEROES   is about a puppy growing up to become a service dog for an Marine veteran coming home from Iraq who struggles with post traumatic stress disorder. 

In this case, a Marine who served in Iraq would be an excellent beta reader as well as some one who trains dogs for service work. Judy and I are processing applications, so if you know of someone, please reply in the comment section.

 The  two guys  pictured above mentioned an interest but, really? I know they're the mascots for  The Marine Corps but ...really?

Judy's feeling much better thanks to my excellent care taking.  Be sure to click on the link below  to reach  her blog  for updates to her  schedule.

 THE WRITINGS OF A WANDERING WIDOW

 

 

JUDY HOWARD'S AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

 

THE WRITINGS OF A WANDERING WIDOW: STARTING OUT WITH A BANG

THE WRITINGS OF A WANDERING WIDOW: STARTING OUT WITH A BANG: January’s   down – eleven months   to go. The new year   started out fast and furious   similar to   Sportster when   his frisky moo...

OMG! I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE!

OMG! I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE!

Last night I lost one of my nine lives. My day had gone so well. We left Emerald Cove in Parker, Arizona for some solitary time boon docking in the desert in Quartzite, Az. Judy was torn between spending time with her friends Julie and her cousin Chris and the challenge of boon docking. “After all,” she told me, “I paid good money for the solar panels.”  The choice for me was not as difficult. Saying good bye to Kona and Rocky was a little sad but now they have two more Pomeranian friends. Really? Four dogs? I’ll take the desert in July.

The farewell  wasn’t a “I won’t see you for a long time good bye.” No, no, no. The parting  was "I’ll see you in a couple of days" at Hasslers RV Park in beautiful downtown Quartzite. The campground is one of Judy's favorite parks in the little town with over a thousand to choose from because of the sculptures through out the property.. Check out some of the sculptures.

 

We  picked an empty spot in the desert. We aren’t alone but the closest RVs are far enough apart to experience the solitude. Judy showed me the full moon before the sun went down and then I took my favorite place on the dash to watch the night creatures move in the moonlight.

I must have stepped wrong when I thought I saw a coyote creeping past our rig. I've over heard the stories.  I moved fast,  but the wrong way, and went crashing past the steering wheel to the floor. Only my back feet landed. I hung suspended by my harness on a lever sticking out from the steering wheel.

I hung there awhile and decided if I twisted this way and that I could get free. My actions only tightened the harness around my neck. Now it was getting difficult to breathe.

I managed a small meow although Judy was already searching for me because she had heard me fall. I squeaked out another meow and she found me.

“Oh dear” she said. “I’ll get you loose you silly cat” I felt her fingers release the clasp but nothing happened. I panicked and started to squirm but now I was choking!

“Hold on Sportster!” I heard it in her voice. She was  crying as her fingers fumbled trying to get the harness unwrapped from the lever. I gagged again.

“Hold still. I’ll get the scissors!” She left me hanging. "I’m choking!" Thank the cat gods we don’t have a forty foot motor home.

I felt her hands trembling. I was dizzy.  I didn’t care if she accidently cut me too. I felt the sweet release as the scissors sliced through the nylon tight around my throat and  I jumped into her arms.

“Oh, you poor little guy!” She kissed me all over and rubbed my neck that felt numb. ”You’re okay now.” I wasn’t putting on any airs this time. I soaked it all up until I stopped shaking.

We lay on the bed together. I purred and she petted me until she stopped shaking too.

I love my Mom. She’s my hero.

 

ONE WEEK, TWO SEMINARS AND THREE FRIENDS?

The first week of the New Year  has vanished, not that time is of any importance to me. Judy has eaten her way through the holiday parties  and every morning she announces, “Today is the day we get into shape, Sportster.” That’s my clue to roll over on my tummy,

nestle into the bed covers and give her my loudest purring routine.  She  turns off the alarm wiggles deeper into the  down pillow top and rubs my belly.  After fifteen minutes  of that exercise , she stretches and I play pounce on the undercover toes.

This consumes another fifteen minutes and before we know it, the exercise routine I designed  is completed and  our day can begin.

I  began each day , first, by listening to Judy groan as she stepped onto the scale, second, by sniffing the aroma of brewed coffee, and last, by  checking my dish to insure  my cat kibble is in the shape of a  perfect mound. The food in  my dish must be heaping -  that is my neurosis. It  is born from my American roots. My comforts must appear  blatantly abundant. Thus, throughout the day, the week,  between naps, I beg for treats in order to prevent eating a dent into the teaming  hill in my food dish.

Judy ‘s schedule is filling up and taking form  for the new year - one week down and two seminars  completed. After her first, at the Ovitt Library, Judy is considering an  invitation to come back  in June to do another.

Thursday I slept in, enjoying the warmth inside the motorhome as the desert sun rose and the solar meter  responded signaling a full charge. We are connected to electric but it is always comforting to know -  if there is no electricity - well, you know, it’s like the  blatantly abundant thing.

While I slept in, Judy  completed her second seminar   here at the FMCA RV Rally  in Indio, Ca. With fifty in attendance, it was Judy’s largest audience at a seminar to date. I believe  they came to meet me, but her presentation was  informative and entertaining  enough that no one complained I didn’t  make an appearance. I like to keep a low profile.

With the seminars  behind her, Judy spent  the morning  browsing the many vendor booths and  the afternoon  sitting  outside, enjoying  seventy-four degree desert sunshine.

 

Judy read  a book from  Brenda Hill’s boxed set ,And Justice For Her,  a series of mystery, suspense, and romance thrillers while I rolled and stretched until the sunshine made me sleepy…again.

Kona

Saturday will be a full day of writing before  we head to Emerald Cove  in Parker, Arizona  on Sunday. I'm not excited about meeting  up with Judy's friend's Julie and her two dogs, Kona and Rocky.

 

 

Rocky

Don't misunderstand. I like Julie and I like alot of dogs, but only if they they know their place.

 When Kona bounces up to me displaying an over exuberance and  dancing her poodle jig, what  is a sophisticated cat supposed to do? When they want to  intrude into my "stick" castle or my castle on wheels, invade my privacy,what can I say?.

Rocky and Kona have forced me to express my distaste for their bad manners and,still, they don't listen. I am humiliated.I  have my limits.


I am not excited. I'll keep you posted.

Be sure to click on the link below Nick Russel has  a free drawing this week as he does every week.  This week he is giving away a free audio book of GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST.
The Gypsy Journal RV Travel Newspaper
Don't  forget to check out our books.
Amazon

 

 

  

THE WRITINGS OF A WANDERING WIDOW: WRAPPING UP ANOTHER YEAR.

THE WRITINGS OF A WANDERING WIDOW: WRAPPING UP ANOTHER YEAR.: Happy Holidays to one and all!. Wow! Another year is wrapping up. One of my favorite things this time of the year is gathering  up th...

HOLIDAY TORNADOS AND DIVINE DIRECTION

I become contemplative this time of the year. Am I thinking of Santa Kitty’s visit? Perhaps, but, my musings go deeper. After all I am a cat and a co-author.

 

 

I won’t forget this time last year when the cat gods made me confront my tornado fears. Bunked down in Summerdale, Alabama at an RV park on Christmas Eve, no visions of toys stuffed with catnip danced in my head.  Sure, the motorhome was decked with holly and my stocking and Judy’s hung from the steering wheel with care,

 

 

 

  but our emergency bags, packed and stacked by the door waited quietly in case Santa Kitty rode in on a cloud...a tunnel cloud that is. I had checked my bag to assure my food and favorite toys were not forgotten while Judy stowed away other essentials in hers.

 

Judy was warm in her sweats in front of the TV as she watched and listened to the weathermen tracking the tornado. Radar technology searched the night sky that swarmed and coiled with angry air, prepared to strike, but who knew where? I worried that Santa Kitty would arrive with a clatter and seventy mile an hour winds.

Judy’s friend Vicki   planned our escape route. Vicki would load up Tika, her little dog, and her birds, Tweetie Bird and Birdy Bird and drive to our campsite. I had always kept a close eye on my friends.

 

 

 

 

Vicki  would pick us and our cherished belongings up, then speed to the campground’s club house that provided better shelter than our home on wheels.

Sometime deep in the night the tornado touched down.... in downtown Mobile, only thirty miles away.


                                       *****************

                             ************  

 

The course of our lives.
Does a divine navigator take the wheel and determine our route? Are we are powerless? Or do we map out our own destinations…and suffer the potholes of our humble decisions? 

What do I know? I’m just a cat. On the outside my fur is soft and glistens in the sun.  My nose, like Rudolph’s, is bright, as if I can lead the way. My image?  I know I appear as the total package, a really cool cat. But inside? My beliefs?  I play it close to the paw, even Judy only guesses.

Because I sleep on the dash while we cover the miles to our next destination, Judy assumes I trust the process of life, that life will reveal itself. I do and it does. The day’s destination, whether it is a Walmart parking lot, an Elk’s club or an RV park with all the amenities, it is always worth the detours and flat tires along the way. I rejoice that our den on wheels offers new and exciting   smells and sights just beyond the door. Every day.

Do I choose the destination? I would like to think Judy, or someone, considers what I want to experience, like the White Sands of New Mexico, the willowy drapes of cypress in Alabama, or the fiery sunsets in Florida, Arizona and Wyoming.

I believe that we are always divinely guided and that we will always take the right turn of the road. I believe someone or something bigger and wiser than us will always make a way where there is no way.

So my friends and fans, with this rare bit of wisdom I share with you,  I will settle down for a long winter's nap.

 

Meow. Meow.

translation:

Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night!!

 

 

 

 

Make this Holiday memorable with the gift of a book.

Amazon

SPORTSTER IS THANKFUL

 Every year  at this time, alone, curled up in a drawer or snug in the recesses of the linen closet, where no one can observe, I make a grateful list.  I rarely reveal this side of me, I'm  a private  cat. Reviewing  the year, noting my accomplishments and failures ( although the latter list is minimal)  clears my mind and encourages me to face the new year spitting and hissing. Family and friends always play a part in this annual review.

Goldfinger, my cousin in Vegas who  never had a thankful attitude,  demands what he wants and his people give it to him. He bragged  how he shredded the screen door when his folks brought home a kitten they rescued. They had  found the poor creature shivering in fear on the hot asphalt of the Vegas strip. Goldie, that's what we call my cousin, is not one to mess with.

This is my twin brother. We were separated  as kittens. He wasn't as lucky as me to find a warm loving home. He roamed the streets,  joined a gang and  was arrested and went to jail. It was behind bars  he worked his sweet talking meows on an elderly lady who had just lost her little Pumpkin to old age. He lives  a good life now  as you can see  but his time on the streets  made him bitter and not very thankful.



Aunt Callie sent me this snapshot to demonstrate her hunting prowess. Do you think she caught that big bird?

I ponder my family ties  this time of the year and I am thankful I turned out the way I did. My life is full. More charmed than any cat I know.
I have met a lot  of my distant cousins at our grooming shop, The Canine Beauty Salon . Some  travel a lot like me but none have their own private bathroom.
Last year Judy surprised me. She called it an early Christmas present. She took me out to the motor home that she has been loading up for our three month trip to Florida and  unveiled my very own lavatory.

That was a year ago. I've since  decorated it  with catnip and a pretty air freshener.  It's spacious and private. Before the addition it seemed every time someone came to visit, I had to go to the bathroom. It was quite embarrassing not only for the company but me as well.

 

We're going to put my name over the door.

 

 

 

My friend Pinto misses me every time I travel.. She wants to go too. No way. Not when I just got my own bathroom, I'm not the sharing sort.

Larry the lizard lives on our back patio and entertains me with his strange antics.  He is such a clown. I told him to be safe this year when I  go to Quartzite, Arizona in January.. He explained that wouldn't be a problem. He'll sleep til spring.

 

Judy's right family, friends and fans. That's life.  Have a great Thanksgiving. Maybe curl up after dinner with a good book?

Don't forget Judy's books are now available as AUDIO BOOKS.

AMAZON.COM

SPORSTER'S THOUGHTS ON FREEDOM

HAPPY VETERANS DAY!!

A TRIBUTE TO A DOG

We only work at the grooming shop three days a week now.  They are busy days, and long. I stay busy all morning offering assistance to the nervous clients, pet and human alike. Sometimes just positioning myself on the reception desk like a lawn statute distracts the customer from their worries. I can read their thoughts, “Oh the cat is calm, purring, and pretty, it must be okay.” You could call me a service cat. I work the morning crowd but by noon, my belly bulges with treats from the staff and Judy, the dogs are settled in, relaxed from their warm bath and waiting for pick up, so it is time for my siesta.

Because the time is hectic and full, the three days pass quickly. By the third day I am eager to work, but the hours are draining and I look forward to the next four days at home.

 My job at home is less taxing. As a service cat I keep a schedule. I remind Judy that sleeping in and playing “chase the feet under the covers” frees the creative juices for writing. Like most service animals my main job is distraction. My means of accomplishing that goal differs from the dog’s. I succeed through cuteness and demanding attention while a dog demonstrates love and caring. We both achieve the same result, I just avoid the groveling.

In fact I want to point out that a cat’s job as a companion is so often underrated by the public. Even Judy is writing a book on the merits of a service DOG. Folks don’t write famous speeches about their relationship with cats. It is not that I want publicity, but I would like my species given credit.

With that said, Judy read this famous speech to me the other day. I will post it here because I don’t hold grudges. Historians consider it one of the greatest speeches about a dog. Perhaps my peeps can send me some moving literature about cats. In the meantime I’ll admit this says it all about the dog.

 

A TRIBUTE TO A DOG

George Graham Vest (1830-1904) served as U.S. Senator from Missouri from 1879 to 1903 and became one of the leading orators and debaters of his time. This delightful speech is from an earlier period in his life when he practiced law in a small Missouri town. It was given in court while representing a man who sued another for the killing of his dog. During the trial, Vest ignored the testimony, and when his turn came to present a summation to the jury, he made the following speech and won the case.

Gentlemen of the Jury: The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us, may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.

The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog. A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer. He will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounters with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings, and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.

If fortune drives the master forth, an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.

George Graham Vest - c. 1855

 

 

 

 

THE BIGGEST LITTER BOX AND THE BIGGEST PISTACHIO

Judy and Julie said good bye with hugs and safe travel wishes, and pats on the head for Kona and Rocky, while I watched from the dashboard, impatient to get on the road. I kept my “secret sadness” hidden behind my regal, unconcerned attitude.

 I would miss Rocky and Kona, especially Kona, she was such entertainment. But they had to go home, head west, while we turned our wheels east. I don’t know why Judy seemed so sad, she still had me.

We headed for the SKP Saguaro RV Park in Benson, Arizona. I kicked back for a few days exploring our clean, peaceful campsite. 

I smell s rabbit!!

Where is that rabbit?

 Judy waited for the government to settle the budget issues. 

 Judy got caught up on her writing, laundry, and quality time with me.

After four days we headed out for Deming, New Mexico, ready to continue our adventures in New Mexico.

When we arrived at The Dream Catcher RV Park I knew something was wrong. Judy rushed to park, plug in and went to bed. She never takes naps so I cuddled with her knowing she did not feel good. Saturday and Sunday passed with no improvement. We slept a lot, not unusual for me, but I wasn’t accustomed to Judy’s new behavior.

The sun had not come up when Judy rousted me from the warm blankets and I watched her stow away everything for travel. She only drove across town and parked in a near empty parking lot in front of a sign, “Emergency Entrance.”?? What was going on?

The hospital was small, one story and Judy parked the motor home close to the emergency entrance. 

She locked up the motor home and went inside. I perched on the dash and looked out into the dark.

Trucks pulled up with flashing lights and people scurried around. I studied the movement for a long time as I waited for Judy’s return. What if she was so sick, she wasn’t coming back? What would become of me? I could wait a long time, Judy had filled up my dish to overflowing.

An hour and a half later Judy  came through the doors and approached the motor home. My heart skipped a beat. Everything was going to be okay! She gave me a huge hug and I felt her relief as I hid mine and squirmed out of her grasp.

I listened as Judy explained to her sister on the phone that after tests and a super duper shot of antibiotics, she would soon be on the mend from a bladder infection. 

“I can’t say enough for  The Mimbres Memorial Hospital,  my nurse, Mena, and the doctors.” Judy’s voice was high with excitement as she talked to her sister. “They kept me updated on the process, explaining it took thirty minutes for tests to process. They just didn’t stick me in a room and leave me wondering if I’d been forgotten. Mena was the best. If you want a good nurse she’ll be traveling to the Los Angles Children’s Hospital to work there for  for thirteen weeks and is  considering the new Loma Linda Hospital in Murrieta, California next.”

Judy drove back to the campground and we spent the rest of the day resting and napping. Being sick on the road was scary. I’m glad that’s over.

We had arrived in Deming on a Saturday and on Tuesday morning we were back in the saddle again, headed for the biggest litter box I have ever seen in my entire life!!

The White Sands National Monument near Alamogordo, New Mexico.

The motor home looks so tiny in this gigantic litter box. It's too much to comprehend. 

We moved on down the road.

And the next stop, the biggest Pistachio I have ever seen at McGinns Pistachioland in Alamogordo, New Mexico.

Stay tuned for more adventures as we make our way to the Alien Capital, Roswell, New Mexico.

Smokey the Bear and Black Jack

We were headed to Roswell, New Mexico   but made some stops along the way to visit  some of my famous animal friends who have made the history books. First stop, the Smokey The Bear Historical Park. It is here that Smokey the Bear was born and rescued after being orphaned during a forest fire. And it is here, after his death November 9, 1976, he is buried after twenty-six years of service to our country. 

My name is mentioned in books too, but I will never have the impact on this country like Smokey The Bear. It was an honor to visit his grave site.

This is Fort Stanton. Judy has become fascinated with the many forts situated throughout the west pointing out that the hardships these soldiers encountered are  similar  to what our warriors of today must endure. A soldier's life is never easy.

General Pershing's name comes up many times in the history books of this era. His horse, Black Jack is  icon  that you may not be aware.  After General Pershing's death his horse Black Jack made a name for himself as The
Riderless Horse in many stat funerals.. He participated in Hoover's, Johnson's, McArthur's, and most remembered, Kennedy's funeral.  Black Jack is one of only two horses to be buried with full military honors ( the other horse, Comanche) . Click on the link below to learn more about this magnificent animal.

Th

Black Jack The Riderless Horse

And our final stop before reaching Roswell was Lincoln  County, the stomping grounds of Billy the Kid.  Below is the only one of the  many historical buildings in this area where the Lincoln County Wars took place. It is one of the two competing mercantile stores that competed for the the economic and political control of this area in 1878. Billy the kid escaped from this building where he was held to be hung for his crimes.  The gunshot holes in the walls are from his guns when he escaped. If I weren't a cat I'd want to be Billy The Kid.

Below is an article about Billy's origins in Silver City. Another stop on our itinerary.

Old Town Silver City, New Mexico

By Mary Alice Murphy,

Silver City Daily Press

The controversy over Billy the Kid’s life and death started when he was shot and killed by Pat Garrett in July 1888. But did Billy die, did Garrett really kill him or was somebody else the victim of Garrett’s bullets? The legend holds that Billy, also known as William Bonney Henry McCarty and Henry Antrim, was born in New York, or was it Texas? His mother was Catherine Antrim, or was he born to her sister and raised by Antrim?

The controversy of his life stems far beyond what documented history can tell us. However, a few things about Billy’s life are not controversial. He was raised in Silver City, New Mexico, by Antrim and known then as Henry McCarty. After her death, he had no role models, got involved with shady characters and began his brief life of crime. Also not disputed is that Billy the Kid attended Sixth Street Elementary School in Silver City.

A cabin, from the movie set of “The Missing” was donated by the movie’s director Ron Howard and sits at the Murray Ryan Visitor Center near the site where Billy (a.k.a. Henry) and his mother lived. So, while the stories of Billy change as quickly as time passes, one fact that will always remain is “the Kid” will always be known as one of the West’s most rumored and remembered outlaws.













Just to remind you, I am mentioned in books as well as Smokey and Black Jack.
Check them out on Amazon.
Amazon.com

Wasting Away In Wickenburg, Arizona

Wickenburg, Arizona was the perfect place to me to  recuperate from my worries, 

 "Would Judy ever return from the deep canyon walls of the Grand Canyon? Would she be swept away forever, leaving me the task of training someone new to all my needs and desires? I would be meticulous in my interviews. The new position would have many more duties. regular walks, no dogs in the house even to visit. And there would be a no tolerance policy for lack of response to repeated meows."

I digressed. Sorry.

Judy had time to do laundry and she  and Julie ate out a lot. We slept in every day  and Judy met up with Julie when she took Rocky and Kona for their walks. I relaxed while they toured  The Desert Caballeros Western Museum. 

They ate at the Hog Tough Barbecue  and met up with fellow Escapee members  David and Nancy Barnhart who were wintering  at the North Ranch SKP  Park in Congress, Arizona where we were staying. David and Nancy had raised many dogs for The Canine for Companions For Independence. Where are the cat lovers in this world?

Judy scolded me for being  narrow minded. She enjoyed hearing about their training adventures.  Well, that is what you have to do when you own a dog.

The Horseshoe  Cafe   was another great restaurant in Wickenburg. 

In the evenings we watched the sunsets.

After a great few days we headed for Kingman, Arizona to get more kicks on Route 66.

See you there.