Tag: anxiety
meanwhile back in Ixcatepec

meanwhile back in Ixcatepec

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Now to catch up on some crazy months in 2019 between those hectic returns to Toronto. As you have may have read from previous posts, I now have a roommate, 2 more dogs and a cat. This after more than 20 years by myself with only my dogs and cats, it takes time to adjust. I had as you can imagine, my routine, my ways etc but it was now time to learn to live with more.

Tai, the cat was no problem at all. She would sit with me while I was in my beautiful room while I enhanced my skills at zentangling. Occasionally she would catch a mouse or a lizard, eat the head and leave the remainder of her catch to rot, high in the cupboard. It was gross and smelled awful. She certainly gave Stella a run for her keep as she was an excellent mouser. I left the mess for my roommate to clean up – his cat, his mess!! Tai refused to go outside when it was wet, which is quite often in the valley so I also taught my roommate how to actually keep her litter box clean properly and save him some money. Seems pretty simple but he had no idea. Men!!

Siete and Eight loved me, Seven and Stella. And I loved them back. I was there every day with them and they soon became accustomed to my routine and I was the one who played with them and fed them. But I did have my issues. I was not there as their sitter and caretaker. It was time that my roomie learned that this is a 50/50 show and he needed to do his share. With 4 dogs, there is a lot of shit to pick up, a lot of responsibility on feeding, grooming and vet care. He understood and began to do his share. Fair is fair, right? Now that we had 4 dogs and a cat, my amazing vet would come to the house when it was checkup time and annual shots. How cool is that? No matter how hard she and her assistant tried, Siete was having none of it. She left the shots with me for Fabian to administer. The others – Seven, Stella, Eight and Tai were no problem. There always has to be one!

My roomie and I began to fall into a routine. As I have said, he works long hours six days a week and in no way interfered with my new life in Mexico. We both began to eat better. He had a tendency to eat on the run and for me it is hard to cook just for one. I end up with enough to feed myself for a few days and by the end I am sick of the fare, no matter how good! We also searched for a good pizza to be delivered or he would come home with delights of Indian food. It was great to have company. My original thought was that I would be able to zone on my spanish but I was wrong. All he wanted to do was to speak english! And I must admit, his english was far better than my spanish. We would huddle around by old laptop and watch movies on sundays. Good thing we both liked the same genre. I would also drag his ass off the couch and go for walks with the pack as we were surrounded by beautiful trails and vistas.

I had long been thinking to get another tattoo. I had been carting around for decades a lovely print of 3 canadian geese by semi renowned artist. It was time to have this one inked. Lucky for me, my friend’s boyfriend Charlie is a tattoo artist and uses the traditional method. No electric gun for this guy. He did an amazing job. He is right, his method is far less evasive on the body. There was no pain and it healed incredibly fast. My only regret is that I cannot see it as it is on my back! So, if you ever find yourself in Tepoztlan or even Mexico City, let me know and I will hook you up for your first or next tattoo. You will have no regrets. In fact, I think it is time for another……

During this time I also found out that I have now a severe allergic reaction to shell fish. One day while having a bite to eat with my friend Eva, we shared a shrimp dish. Four hours later I did not know whether to sit on the loo or lean over a bucket. I did both. Fabian came home and found me curled up on my bed with no energy at all. Immediately he grabbed me, carried me to his truck and raced me to the hospital. At first we all thought including the doctor that it was rotten food. After 4/5 hours in the hospital on a drip as I was totally dehydrated, I returned home. Took a couple of days to recover but all was well. Then a few weeks later, my same friend was having a dinner party and her boyfriend being spanish, cooked an amazing paella. Four hours later, I was on the loo or my head over a bucket. This time Fabian rushed to the pharmacy to get antihistamines and in a couple of hours I was fine. Conclusion. I can no longer eat shell fish. Apparently it is quite common to suddenly acquire this kind of allergy when you get older. Who knew? Although I do not eat meat, I did on occasion eat fish or shell fish. Now that was off my menu, which did not upset me. The variety of fresh fruit, vegetables and beans available to me provided me with a very healthy diet. So no great loss. I must say that my experience in the small local hospital was excellent. The nurses, doctors were very concerned and only after my insisting would let me leave knowing that I would not be alone. My visit was free except for the drugs that were prescribed. One could not say that in many countries that you could visit. Was that an exception? I don’t know but I am forever thankful for their care.

As mentioned above, the entertainment hub in the house was my old laptop which was fading fast. Although on one trip back to Toronto, my friend Laura gave me another for which I was grateful but I wanted a bigger screen. For me, movies on a laptop suck. How the hell people watch movies on their cell is beyond me. Having a roommate now sharing the rent etc, I had money to treat myself. It was fabulous.

All that came to a screeching halt.

One day, Fabian was late going to work and I had to go to the bank. I grabbed a ride from him and was gone maximum 2 hours. When I arrived home and entered the gate, I noticed that Siete’s cone of shame was broken. We had to have one on her to stop her licking this one wound. I thought it was strange but cancelled that thought. I didn’t see Stella, which was really unusual. Seven and Eight seemed fine and happy to see me. I got my key out to open the door and saw Stella inside. Now that’s really odd. Then I noticed that the lock on the door had been broken. I began to freak. When I entered the house then I saw what happened. We had been robbed. My room had been turned upside down. All my jewellery gone, new laptop and of course my new TV. Immediately called Fabian. No answer. Kept calling. No answer. Finally when he did answer I was a mess. He called the police and came rushing home. And as fate would have it, his truck got stuck in the river, that you had to cross to get home. Never rains but it pours. The police did nothing – what a surprise but then what could they do? After much deliberation and searching, we knew who did this but of course could not prove it. Who in their right mind would enter a house with 4 dogs? All who, except Stella would not approve. It had to be someone who knew us, knew the dogs and knew when no-one was home. We then decided it was time to get some kind of home security cameras. Being robbed is an awful feeling. You feel violated. You feel vulnerable. The material stuff can be replaced. But somethings can never be replaced. Little things that had been with me for decades that were gifts or mementos of time gone by. Some of my friends back in Canada said time to leave Mexico. Why? Did they really think that this was a Mexican problem? I reminded them that I had been robbed twice before, in Toronto. Does not matter where you are in this world, your house can be robbed, you can be violated. All one can do is to make sure your home is secure and not an easy mark.

For weeks after, Seven was the most concerned. He followed me everywhere and became anxious whenever I left the house. He is such a sensitive soul and is my soulmate.

my soulmate
march 2019

march 2019

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I sit here now, january ’24 with the wind blowing the arctic freeze on us making it -54c which is as far as I am concerned, unfit for man and beast. Thinking back on spring of 2019 makes me wonder if I was in fact living in a dream but I do have the pictures to prove to myself that it was not a dream. In reality though I was livin’ the dream that so many only dream about. A beautiful home, surrounded by new friends, 2 legged and four. And not a care in the world. How could we, the 3 S’s (Seven, Stella & I) be so lucky? This was our time in paradise.

Sadly dogs are still mistreated all over the world and it is no different in Mexico. One day while shopping in the local village, I noticed this dog who was obviously in distress. I was told the vet had been called and he would be taken care of. Over the next few days I went to the vet office to check and was told that he had eaten poisoned meat and he asked if I could foster him while he recovers and help find a home. How could I refuse? I made arrangements to pick him up and bring him home. He was a little nervous but he, Seven and Stella were having no issues at all. I needed to get more dog food. I was not gone long but when I returned, he had jumped the fence and ran. I was so upset. I never did see him again and can only hope he found someone who would take him in. Many told me that often dogs will return to the house they know if they can find away. I hope that is the case because he was a real beauty.

Water. The most important part of everyone’s and everything’s existence. In many parts of the world one should not drink the tap water. Myself, I do not like tap water no matter where I am. The overall smell of chlorine, my nose says nope, no way. Sure I grew up drinking tap water, bottled or filtered water was not an option unless you were part of the elite. My house on the edge of Tepoztlan was lucky enough to have town water and yes I refrained from drinking it but not necessarily for the same reason. After a bout of sickness because of a little bug taking up residency in my gut, I did not want to take the chance of inviting another. The only option then is to have purified water for drinking delivered to your home. Five litres for just over a dollar. A great deal. Walking back from town, I passed the shop and asked for 2 bottles to be delivered.

Upon delivery of the water, I noticed a beautiful dog in the truck. Her name is Siete, spanish for seven. Now there are not too many people who name their dogs by numbers, let alone the same number as my Seven! An immediate connection. After a few deliveries of water, I offered to take Siete for a day, possibly for two, so she can have a break from just sitting in the truck. A little persuasion was needed to convince Fabian that Siete will be fine. Well the first day, Seven was yeah another lady in the house. Siete on the other hand felt at first that she had been betrayed and left alone in this strange house. She went to the far corner of the garden and watched her dad drive away. Poor Siete sat there for hours, bewildered and scared. Finally after some coaxing with treats, she started to come out of her shell thinking well this beats sitting in a truck all day. Her second visit was totally different. She ran up the steps, happy to see me, Seven and Stella waiting for her. Siete was happy, Seven and Stella were happy. I was happy.

Meet Siete

The time had come again to do the dreaded exit and return. Although I had just been back to Canada at christmas, it was not really a necessity but it was mum’s birthday and a another big one. Well let’s be honest any birthday over 90 is a gift and should be celebrated. The task of finding a cheap flight on the dates I wanted and finding someone to look after the dogs and the house was one that I absolutely hated. I’d get anxious. I’d get worried that upon my return I would not be allowed back. And I would be leaving my little piece of paradise. But it had to be done. Tickets are bought. Now who do I ask this huge favour? I had only recently met and had become friends with Fabian, the water guy and the dad of SIete. Would he do this? Could I trust him? I asked him and he says sure but are you sure you want me to do this? Sometimes you just have to go with your gut feeling., and I said yes I am sure. Trip arranged and I was off once again to Toronto.

Mum’s birthday week was wonderful. She got spoiled and rightly so making it to 96! I can only hope that if and when I do reach those golden years, I am as spry as her. Only time will tell. It was great to see friends and family and the days are just not long enough to squeeze everyone in.

By the time I leave, I am totally talked out, exhausted and really missing Seven and Stella and my little piece of paradise. Even though I have learned to travel light with only carry on, I still bring too much with hardly any room left over to pack away things that I cannot get in Tepoztlan. The main purchase is teabags. Tea is extremely expensive in Mexico. Like some people who need their cup of java in the morning, I need my cuppa of orange pekoe tea. I could buy my favourite 240 tea bags for under $10. In Mexico it would be around $60. Apparently it is a tax, a heavy tax that is put on tea. Who would have thought? Because of the climate and soil, tea would grow well in Mexico and is urged, hence the heavy tax on imported tea. So I needed to pack 500 bags of tea in my backpack. Bring fewer clothes next time I told myself.

By the time I got home, happy to be there, happy to see Seven and Stella and happy to see that my house was still in one piece. My gut feeling was correct! Now I needed a few days of doing nothing except play with the dogs, drink my tea and relax in my little paradise. It was good to be home.

The Truth without Proof ain’t Worth Shit

The Truth without Proof ain’t Worth Shit

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Many of you know the story. Me packing up and leaving my comfort zone. Headed south to Mexico with a few belongings and my dog, my best friend Seven. We crossed the US/Mexico border without a question. “Have a nice time” they told me. And for 5 months that is exactly what I did with a few little hic-ups along the way.

March 15th. I decided not to cook that day, I wanted to go again to this fabulous little café down the road.  Put on some clean clothes, told the dogs to be good and I will be back soon. It was around 12:30, the sun was shining and the café was just around the corner, well a leisurely 25 minute walk. Suddenly without warning there was a van from the Mexican Migration and 2 cops on their 4-wheelers. Pasaporte y papel, por favor. Now because of my easy entry into Mexico by car, my passport was not stamped. So as far as the Mexican Migration were concerned, I was there illegally. Yes I take part and only a very tiny part of the blame here for not insisting that my passport be stamped, but I had the paper work for the car and my Seven, so I did not worry.

I then find myself being told to get into the back of the van.

I tell everyone my story but they do not believe me. As the title say, Truth without Proof ain’t worth Shit.  I am finger printed, photographed and told to remove all my jewellery and hand everything over including cell phones. I cannot return to my house. My dogs. My Seven, my Stella. They were my only concern at that point, my babies. It was obvious that I could not go back to house. My dear friend saved the day, went to feed and play with my dogs and she brought my passport which I was told I needed or it could be longer that I would be held. How long? I was never told. I was given a meal and told to sleep. A 10×10 room is what I had with 2 bunk beds. I am thankful that there were no other “illegals” with me. Eventually I found myself signing a whole bunch of papers that I was told would allow me to re-enter Mexico. Six hours have gone by. By this time I am a nervous wreck. I cannot stop shaking, crying with both anger and fear. I manage to get a couple of hours sleep and I am told that I must be taken to the migration centre in Mexico City and be kept there until “my case” is reviewed and a decision is made on what they are going to do. At this point only a handful of people know what has happened. And truth be known did I? I had no idea that my friends and family were working to resolve this and get me home. I had no access to the outside world.

I was given the essentials to clean myself and then the ride to Mexico City in the same van followed by a police car.  Arrival at the deportation place. Again everything has to be handed over. I am given a bag with the essentials, 2 blankets, a quick body search, more papers to sign and then the door opens into where I stayed for eight days. Eight days of my life that I will never ever forget. This is the only picture I can find of the centre I was in, taken in 2008 from this article. Really not much has changed in 10 years.

deportation centre

Cold showers, no towel, sign for toilet paper, sign for 3 meals a day which looked like something the dog threw up, line up for detergent, line up for diapers or sanitary towels. Phone calls can only be made certain times of the day. And my God if you asked one minute after the alloted times, you missed your opportunity. One day this guy came in and was blabbing about something for half an hour. When I asked if I could make a phone call, he said no it is past time. I said yeah, cos you have talked for half an hour so I missed it. He let me make it but when I called my friend was not home! The gate to the dormitories was closed around 10 and not opened til 9am the following morning after the head count.  No lights out, you sleep with bright flourescent lights. The yard was size of maybe 2 basketball courts. Walls of 12 feet and topped with barbed wire and was watched by employees of a security company.  Making us wait to go outside was crazy – where were we going to go? Not unless we grew wings. The excuse was so the place would be cleaned. Mexico is ripe with fresh vegetables and fruit at amazingly low cost, there was no reason why the food should be so bad. In 8 days I had one orange, 2 slices of lime and one piece of watermelon. The odd colour of the vegetables in the food made it hard to decipher what it was. The food was served on styrofoam plates and make sure you damage it before throwing it away. I was told that the plates were taken from the garbage, rinsed and reused the next meal.

I think I was the first Canadian there as the international dialling code was not written in one of their many books. You are allowed one free phone call a week. So you better have all your facts together not to miss the window. Every federal migration officer I spoke with knows that there is a serious problem with land border crossings. I said fix it! They said that is never going to happen.  I arrived on Friday and then it was yet another holiday in Mexico, so nothing would be done until Tuesday. I wasn’t sure if I could make it. My friends told me to be strong. It was really difficult. You are helpless. You are a number. You are nothing. Your life is in the hands of strangers. I now know what it feels like to be a caged animal pacing, pacing, pacing.

As the days meld into each other, one becomes numb, void of any feelings. Then there were days when I felt I could take no more and I would sit there and cry. One family took me under their wing. They were from El Salvador and seeking asylum in Mexico, because if they returned, they would die. They had already been there 35 days. She was a strong woman and gave me strength while I was there. I missed them when their day came for them to leave but so happy for them. I intend to keep in touch. There were many who were looking to go to the US from Honduras, Guatemala, Chile, Peru caught before they made the border and sent back to their home countries. Many escaping abusive relationships with kids in tow and/or pregnant. Their lives on hold as mine was.

Daily I was worried about Seven and Stella. They are my life. But I shouldn’t have been, my friend arranged to put them in this kennel very close to where I live. They were safe and looked after by an amazing couple who run Caralampio and their Facebook page where these pictures came from.

kennel time

Seven at camp

Stella at camp

Now it was mid-week and by now the lawyer who my friends and mum paid for was working on getting me out at any time. Manana, manana. I know things move slower in Mexico, but for me these days were an eternity.  The day finally arrived. Friday March 23rd. I was told that the migration agents who picked me up 8 days ago would be taking me to the airport at 4pm and bringing with them my passport so I could leave the country. I was not deported and there is no record of me being in Mexico illegally for the past 5 months.

With a flurry I was told to grab my belongings and the 2 blankets that were given me. I was leaving and it was way before 4pm.  More papers to sign. Grab my things that were put in a safe, check that they are all there and then back in the van to the airport. Walking through the airport terminal with 2 immigration officers get quite a lot of looks. Yep, I am the bad ass Canadian lady of 68 years being sent out of the country, have a good gander. Many checks, more forms to sign. They stay with me until I am walking down the ramp to the plane. I feel for them, do they feel like shit? I bloody hope so.

The free flight back to Canada with Aero Mexico was great and I took full advantage of the free booze, I figured I deserved it at this point.  You know how one always complains or hears complaints of bad food on planes? Well let me tell you it was like heaven to me and I must have devoured it within 5 minutes, right down to the last bread crumb.  Settled down to a some shows and began to relax a little. Customs in Canada, yes I was questioned. I was away for 5 months, declaring nothing and carrying only a small back pack.  They had to make sure I didn’t have a kilo of cocaine on me.  My best friend met me and drove me to my mum’s.

What now? After 3 busy days back in Toronto filled with tears and laughter, I have returned to Mexico. My passport has been stamped and I am legal for 180days. I have my dogs, my best friends back. Where I wonder will I go from here?

Seven’s return

Stella’s return

Trouble in Paradise

Trouble in Paradise

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Upon moving into my new home, I wanted to meet the neighbours. And so did Seven. He and I quickly made good friends with one of the ten dogs that Elmer has. At first I thought she was snarling at me but no she was smiling, curling her top lip and wagging her tail. She soon became a permanent fixture on the porch and slowly made her way to my heart and the single bed/couch.

she found the bed

She enjoyed the brushes I was giving her every day she graced us with her presence. She also knows exactly when feed time is and stands at the gate staring, pleading with me to come in for food. How could I resist.They have a good diet but obviously the kibble was a real treat for her.

feed time

One day while inside, I did not realize that Seven had escaped through the gate from my lack of not shutting it correctly. Suddenly I heard a fury of dogs barking. I ran outside and my poor Seven was cornered by Elmer’s ten dogs. Luckily because of his thick coat he came out with only a scratch on his ear and one on his leg. Seven is a lover and not a fighter. He was traumatized and so was I. You have to remember that he was uprooted from his home where he had the full reign of 200 acres. He was lord of the manor. When we went venturing in the forests close to home, he was never one of those dogs that had to sniff every bum, he never had the need to romp and play with strange dogs. He had his favourites who used to come and visit. And now to be confronted by ten very territorial dogs was new to him as it was with me. And it was terrifying. What have I done? I cleaned his wounds and gave him big hugs and kisses. The gate is now always firmly closed and sadly we do not venture outside our little garden very often. There are still, almost three months later three of the ten dogs that will never accept Seven. One of them also makes a point of snarling at me every time I pass him.

Once on our outing to the corner store a man coming towards us with a really big strong pit bull harnessed to the gill was trying with all his might to get at Seven. This guy could hardly hold him back. Now Seven does not want to go down that street. He will not follow me. So I have to leash him or take him in the car to the football field close to the store. This is not what I had in mind. One day we parked at the entrance to the park and I checked to see if any dogs were there. I did not see any. We started to play frisbee and out of the blue a male boxer came charging. They both did the dance and it did not look good. The owner came running and basically gave me shit. Well excuse me, if you know your dog will be aggressive keep him on a damn leash when you know this park is used by owners and their dogs and don’t blame them. We went back to the car and waited for her to leave and let me tell you she took her sweet time. You see Seven is focused, focused on me. He does NOT want to play with other dogs, he wants to play frisbee. That’s his game.

Back at the house, there are four dogs that will now come into our little patch. Seven is happy with that. They too have no need to romp and play, they just all hang out together.

the tiniest one of all

friends hanging out

I have manged to brush all the knots and clumps from one of them and she is loving it.

loves the brush and attention

Still working slowly on the other. Don’t get me wrong, they are well fed and healthy but they never get brushed. But we are missing one element that I was hoping to do, taking Seven on long walks in the many forest trails in Tepoztlan. Will this happen? I hope so, we have to find a way. For me and for Seven.

Since arriving here, Seven has found his voice. He was a very quiet dog back in Holt only barking when he went for his night-time pee letting the wildlife know he was there. That was it. Now it is a totally different story. He will bark at any vehicle that approaches and anyone he does not recognize. He seems to be following the lead of the neighbouring ten dogs. I also find that many dogs who are penned in their yards do exactly the same thing. Is this the Mexican way? Is this a good thing?  This is definitely one thing that I did not really think about when I was beginning my new life. Dealing with multiple free roaming dogs. They are not feral, they all have a home, well most do here in Tepoztlan but their life is different. There are many people here that treat dogs the way I do, the way I am used to as part of the family but there are also many people who treat their dogs with indifference. It is a difficult thing to get used to but we will. Seven and I will.

Last Day on the Road

Last Day on the Road

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I so did not want to leave San Miguel but we must move forward. This is our last day on the road – for now.  Leaving Holt, Ontario many things crossed my mind. First what a crazy thing to do! Second, what the hell am I doing. Third and possibly the most important, I was following my dream. I feel that most people never ever thought that I would actually do it. How many women or men pack up and head out to a new life at 68? I too had my doubts whether I would grab that bull by the horn and actually go through with everything. Was I all talk and no action? Guess I was fool enough, strong enough, head strong enough, so why the hell not! In retrospect I wish I had taken longer to make the journey, taken the time to explore while I was travelling. But alas that also would have required more money which I did not have. Maybe next time.

The last leg of my journey was a sticky one for me. From San Miguel de Allende to my destination meant driving right through Mexico City. That I did not want to do. Not a chance. With my pigeon Spanish and trying to traverse through one of the most populated cities in the world it was not happening. What to do? I contacted a small tour company from San Miguel called Safe Trips SMA. Mara was supreme. The day before I sent her pictures of all the documents she needed. Mara was driving, Seven and I were passengers. What a joy that was going to be. The time was set for 8AM. I was awake way before that making sure I had everything in order and a couple of good cups of coffee. Mara was right on time. We loaded the few bags I had, put Seven in the car, said our good-byes to Hamish and paradise. And we were off.

Mara is Mexican and has countless years experience driving in Mexico and the US. But at the same time I was nervous. I have only driven this car for just over a week and to me it was like a damn truck compared to the Jeep I had driven for 17 years. But Mara climbed in and started driving it like she had owned it for years. I was unaware it was a holiday weekend in Mexico. Pretty hard to keep up with in Mexico because they have so many! Lucky for us because the highways were relatively quiet. Mara told me that usually driving through the city can take hours but we were sailing through. Coming closer to Mexico City she asked me what year the car is and the last number on my license plate. Kind of an odd question. I told her and she looked at me saying, really? All the information that I had read prior to the trip I cannot for the life of me remember reading anything about this. In Mexico City they are very adamant about keeping older cars off the road. And you must pay attention to the last number. My number was up. We were not supposed to be on the road. Holy Shit. If caught the car would be impounded, Mara could lose her license and I would be up shit’s creek with a bill that I could not afford. We purchased a pass for the over-pass. There was hardly any traffic and we booted it. Once safely out of the boundaries of Mexico City we did a high-five and fumbled through our bags to light a cigarette. Tense? Just a tad.

We are almost there. The road out of Mexico City to our destination is a highway that runs through the mountains. The highway gave us glimpses of the most active volcano in Mexico

Popocatépetl

Popocatépetl which has been more active since the devastating earth quake in September of this year.

Not far now. My friend Maria is meeting us at the only gas station in town to guide us to my new home. We made such good time everyone was amazed. Mara had places to go, people to see so there I was parked waiting for Maria. The clock was ticking. Maria was thinking the same, where are they. Finally we connect. She is at the other end of the station. It has been a year since I have seen her. We are both pretty speechless. I am in a daze.

Now it is time to follow Maria to the house. The brakes are squeaking. The road is bumpy. I have absolutely no idea where I am going. We arrive. Time to meet the landlady. Seven is sniffing every bush and we quickly make it to the front door. I am immediately told that I need to get water, I need to get gas. I am shown a room upstairs which has just been built. It is lovely. But I am told if I want it, it is and extra $1500 pesos a month. Whoa wait a second. You do realize that I have driven for the last 9 days I can’t take all this in right now.

Maria asks if I would like to get something to eat. Damn right, haven’t had a thing all day. I lock the door and get in her car. I have no idea where I am but I buy something to eat, buy some coffee and some things that I feel I will need. I had no idea. The plan was to wait for Maria to return but I needed to get back to the house. Order a taxi I am told. I did just that and guess what, we got lost. Just great. Luckily I was able to get Maria on her phone and she guided the driver to my house. I pay the driver and there is Seven in the yard. I forgot to shut the back door, thank god I shut the gate.

I spent the next couple of hours unloading the car and dragging everything to the house. There was no need really but this was it. We made it Seven.

Journey’s end. Tepoztlan, Morelos, Mexico.

home

we made it

Day Five

Day Five

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All through this road trip I was amazed with Seven. He was so good. So calm. As though he knew this was it for now. Motels and highways. I know he wanted to run like mad and burn off some of that energy but as long as he was with me, he was content.

sleepy seven

Well, that is what I like to think. Once we hit six hours though he was starting to show a little anxiety, like hello where exactly are we going? That is why I tried my best to keep each day in the car to six hours which for the most part I did but there were those days when that was not the case.

Today was the last day in the USA, from Waco to Laredo. Waking up surrounded by highways in Waco is something to be desired. The free breakfast sucked. Coffee, a cigarette and honestly I cannot remember what else passed my lips that morning. It was the final stretch before another border crossing. Once again we packed the car and headed for the highway and said goodbye to the last Red Roof Inn.  This final stretch in the US was extremely boring. Highways and trucks. And more trucks the closer we came to the border town of Laredo. I must admit though the highways are big and built for speed.  Which was fine because the scenery was nothing to write home about unless you like highways and trucks.

We made good time today and checked in before our room was ready at the Family Garden Inn & Suites. We had time to explore a little. Like find a dog park. I was given directions from the lady at the front desk. Needless to say those directions flew out the window. It was pick up time at the primary school. Yikes found myself in a line-up with them, did the u-turn out of there and tried to find a park. That didn’t work so back to the Inn and our room was ready. It was great, two exits which I guess is great if you need that quick exit. One door was to the car, the other was to the open patio and the centre of the motel. The leash and poop on command time for Seven, it’s become a no brainer for him by this point. This motel does not offer free breakfast but free beers and nachos, burgers, hot-dogs.  By this time I am starving so I go over to get my free beers and nachos which did not work, do I ordered from the grill. Can’t remember what I ordered, doesn’t matter it was awful and so was the margarita.

Last night in the USA. Wow was I ready for this? Who knows what I watched on the big bright lite at the end of the bed. It does not matter. Seven is beside me and all is good.

Day Five – done.

Before the Move

Before the Move

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Animals know, all animals know when something is different to their routine, especially if one is connected to you like Seven is with me.

I was not only moving from my home of 18 years but I was discarding the majority of what I had collected for the past 68 years. I reduced it all to what could fit in a dodge caravan and head for the hills.  This was most confusing for Seven and in fact for myself! He saw item by item leave the house.  In the end we had a mattress and a few boxes scattered on the floor.  His only comfort was that his bed, his cats and I were still there. Then the cats left. That broke Seven and I. I do know that they are fine, they are together and have the best life ever with a most amazing lady.  But damn it, I do still miss them terribly and always will, Kitty(mama) and her two kittens Lucy and Baby.  But logistically it would have been insane to travel alone with Seven and 3 cats on the journey that I was about to make. You will hear more about them as time goes on.

Lucy Baby Kitty

Seven was not leaving my side during this whole process which took not only a few days but weeks/months of planning and organizing. Even if it was to go to the corner store he came with me. If on the odd occasion I had to leave without him the look on his face would make you cry and it did.  My work was sporadic which didn’t help and there were days or evenings that I would curl up and cry. Seven always trying to comfort me with his kisses not really knowing what the hell was going on. But he sure knew that something big was happening. How the hell do you tell a dog as smart as Border Collies or any dog can be, that you are packing up and leaving but they are coming too? Pretty much impossible. But we coped, we had each other, as crazy as that may seem to anyone who has never had a dog share their life.

I tried to make life as normal as possible but honestly I don’t think I did a very good job. My mind was scattered and Seven sensed it. He was feeling the anxiety that I was creating in our world.  I looked at him and saw the worry in his face. We would visit our friends and I would put on that happy face but little did he know that was the last time he may see them. And back to our empty house we went. To the mattress on the floor. To the scattered boxes. To the odds and ends that were lingering behind waiting to be tossed away. It was chaos. And he knew.

Then the trusted Jeep left. That was hard. Sure wish I had her now because she would be perfect where I am which you will all see soon enough.

Without him, without Seven by my side every single day, I could not have done this. I could not have moved on. that’s what friends are all about. They slobber you with wet kisses when you are happy or when you are sad and that makes you happy.

I’m smiling

 

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