Assistance Dogs Journey Vacation

Journey to the USA, Part Two

The day after our very long plane ride, followed by a very long layover, then a very long car ride (are you seeing a recurring theme here?), we got some much needed rest and once we woke up, we needed some sustenance for the day ahead. We headed to Bojangles. OMG y’all, I seriously missed that place. Not very many gluten free options for me to choose from, sadly, but my need for some hot, fresh biscuits outweighed the risk of painful gastric issues, so we dove in face first. I saved my copilot Journey a bit because, hell, he deserves to try all the deliciousness too, doesn’t he? Of course, I won’t feed him in a restaurant, so he got his outside at the car.

Journey at Bo's

After refuelling our bodies, we headed down to Mom’s and happily greeted our family that we hadn’t seen in a few years, since I was in between assistance dogs. My daughter decided to take Juju out to explore our new surroundings…


…and of course, if there is water, anywhere, he will find it. Even if he had just been groomed the day before. Especially if he had just been groomed the day before.




We tried to go back to the house. We really tried. But Juju found more water. And became a Bernergator.


Let me tell you, there is nothing more beautiful than a mountain dog in his element.


Or sillier than a mountain dog trying to play hide and seek. Hint: they fail. Epically.


More on our American adventures in the next installment!

Getting my groove back Huzzah! I'm all that and a bag of chips I'm not dead yet Random Shit Vacation

Summer vacation, being sick and other assorted bullshit

GAH it’s been eons since I blogged and I’ve probably lost all or most of my 6 readers by now. Sorry guys! I finally got some time off work – and for once, from all my jobs, and took full advantage of it. I spent many days on the beach… and this year did something remarkable.

For those that don’t know, and still bother coming around here, my favorite uncle died suddenly when I was young younger a kid. He was a competent swimmer, a teacher, a great man who overcame many obstacles in his all too short life, and in fact, I was named after him (it’s a unisex name, y’all, stop smirking). That summer, he was out on the lake with his girlfriend, enjoying his vacation before returning to teach at school. He was out on one of those inflatable raft thingies… and suddenly fell off and drowned. We believe he had a seizure which caused the accident. What I know for sure is… my life changed the day we got that phone call. I never swam in open waters again. Pools were fine because they were safe – they had concrete bottoms and walls and ladders to climb out of. Irrational? Yes. Inhibiting? Absolutely. Something I could easily overcome? Not on your life.

This summer…. 22 years later… I decided to face my demons and get in the water. And I swam, dammit. I swam out to the buoy and back again. And I swam more than once. And I had a fucking blast. I think Danny would be proud.

And here’s photographic evidence too!

Swimming in the Mediterranean
I think the buoy is stalking me
Swimming in the Mediterranean
See? It's chasing me!
Swimming in the Mediterranean
Die, buoy, die!

My stepson went back home to Germany and I must admit, I miss him already.

Also? I got bronchitis… again. In summer. What the fuck?

Anyways, I’m back and will make an attempt to be a better blogger and blog more often. If you’re still reading this drivel, thanks!