Too Surreal, With Love

Our only goal was to find warmth. The snow about our ankles was all the prompting we needed. Go south-west my man, that was the message I spoke to myself, and subsequently answered …

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SHE was suffering from severe pain in her right rib-cage. Shadow the malamute had pulled her sideways mercilessly one frozen morning–the dog, leaping after yet another in-town deer. I was simply congealing from the neck down, numb with excessive turkey stuffing, and a head about to pop from the artificial flow of indoor furnace heat.

We wanted something real, something natural, to warm the flesh on our bones. To be healed. We packed the truck in haste, left many things behind we thought we’d regret, but once we got below the snow line, nothing else mattered.

While passing through the vast Utah desert, peeing with glee along barren highway pullouts, a very identifiable object nearly ran us off the road with its ambient aura. It smoked the invisible air and flew mere yards above the ground–feet above our heads. Something one doesn’t see unless they put themselves into the great, large emptiness that is the sand and cacti south of Salt Lake City. We were clearly out of our frozen element, and although we found solace in the warm climate, things were beginning to get weird.

WTF a UFO? NOT.
WTF a UFO? NOT! Somewhere near Mexican Hat, UT, a U.S. test flight takes place above our heads.

When traveling with a pet, it’s important to embrace compromise. Sometimes they’re not allowed inside; sometimes I’m not allowed outside (especially while holding a cold beer). In Wyoming, drinking and stumbling along the sidewalks is routine and usually legal. In Arizona, beer stays inside with the A/C.

Best cheesy pie in Tuscan: Broadway Pizza Cafe.

Along our way, we found many dog parks, and shared similar affinites with other dog lovers. Our snow-pup was out of her element, but seemed to thrive in this warmer realm–especially with new friends to swap slobber with … save for the wild boars which flew by our door last night …

Back home, I might have mistaken the pitter patter of a dozen hooves for deer in the yard. But as I awoke to the sounds of Shadow’s husky growl, and peered out our cabin window, I could hardly believe seeing the herd of feral pigs scampering about our stoop. Some were the size of our 70-pound malamute; some were babies the size of footballs. They buzzed to and fro for a minute, sniffing and snorting, and then they were gone. Only seconds away from the orange porch-light’s glow, leaving an oily silence in my groggy mind.

Once we settled into a routine in Bisbee, we found the bliss we were after. Shadow followed us into coffee shops, sat at our feet and sniffed the ankles of other customers without incident. She even followed me into the MEN’S ROOM and as I did my thing with her at my back, I noticed a pool of urine (not mine) surround my flip flops. She had followed my lead and somehow I’d inadvertently taught her to hold it ’till we got to the toilet area. How could I blame her? Good girl.

Aching from a three-day drive, I opted for a full-body massage. It was amazing, albeit I was more sore the next day. But my left leg was no longer a numb stub. The pain meant I was still alive. Meanwhile, my wife was claiming she’d been healed in the night. What? How?

Her Aunt in the Philippines had passed that evening. My wife said her dreams reflected this sad news, having garbled dreams which led to her actually swallowing a filling while she slept. Although she’d cried herself back to sleep after the news, she had awakend with a newly formed gap between her front teeth, yet without anymore pain in her ribs.

Then, we heard the tapping of a little bird at our window–directly above our heads. The tiny thing kept ramming its beak against the pane, tick tick tick, as if it were trying to get in. But maybe it was merely pointing to the framed poster directly across the room, at the foot of our bed which we’d barely noticed. It read: 

The room you are in is designed to help balance and clear the chakra associated with the Solar Plexus … where we feel we have been punched in the gut …

Of course, the writing went on to explain a lot more about chakra’s, but the bottom line was, she felt great, despite losing her Aunt, and the filling. The bird helped us see something beyond our earthly line of sight.

Today we head north again. En route to our frozen homeland. We’ll be stopping by to see some friends we’ve not seen in a very long time. Then back through the mystical red desert where we first saw the giant black bird zooming past, just above our heads.

I don’t pretend to know what it all means, but in the midst of escaping the cold; trying to avoid the daily terror of world events; and attempting to find some sort of soothing balm for our souls and our bones, this trek to Bisbee has not been for naught.

It seems we found a bit of peace at last, and at just the right time.

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