There's No Place Like Home

The trip back from South Carolina was long and uneventful. On the trip down, I had taken advantage of Ray's good nature by stopping and taking him for only two very quick walks. This time Ray wouldn't let me. On the second of our stops, after a quick loop around the rest area, as we approached the car, Ray stopped dead. I tried to urge him forward with a "Let's go home, Ray," but he would have none of it. He pulled against the end of his leash letting me know in no uncertain terms that no-way-no-how was he getting back into that car without more exercise. I didn't blame him and couldn't complain. We turned and did a larger loop. When we returned to the car a second time, Ray still wouldn't go near it. Third time is the charm though. We did the loop again, this time at a jog. After the third trip around, Ray obligingly re-entered the car and immediately went to sleep.

By the time we arrived home we were both beat. I unloaded the car and then immediately fed Ray. That morning, as soon as he knew we were traveling and not wanting to be overlooked and inadvertently left behind, Ray had followed me with his nose pad pressed to my butt cheek while I packed up the car. As usual, he had refused all sustenance.

As I prepared his evening meal, Juno, happy to see her long-lost buddy, wound round his legs. When Ray stretched his neck down to see who it was, she touched his nose with hers a couple of times. Ray stood stock still, looking pleased at the reception and then ate his meal with gusto.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

After a short burst of activity, Ray settled down in his favorite spot but in a position I had never seen before. I figured it must be the doggy equivalent of sitting around in boxer shorts after spending time in the presence of people with whom one is just not that comfortable. Ray was obviously very happy to be home.