Ten Hours
It is amazing what you can do in ten short hours.
You can wake at daybreak and drive your car to the airport.
You can board a little jet in the
pouring Oregon July rain and take a flight to
Beautiful Burbank, California.
After arriving in sunny & warm
California, you
can take a taxi to your daughters house.
Please take note of the fantabulous
(artificial) lawn at The Lovely Lisa's house.
Guess what awaits you at your
daughter's house?
Not your daughter. Your Grand Dawg,
Reese!
Next, you gather-up your Grand Dawg and head back to
the Burbank Airport.
(Oh shut up. I know this is the same photo from above. It was
the same taxi driver. I asked him to wait at Lisa's while I gathered Reese and
his belongings.)
After arriving back to the Burbank Airport, you cram stuff lovingly place
the pooch inside his "airline approved" carrier.
Where you board (in the sunshine)
the next Horizon jet back to Portland. Reese rides
in the cabin, at my feet, in his carrier.
Portland is not 77 and sunny.
It was a long ten hours, but look
what I have to show for my little whirl-wind trip!
Yes, Sweet Reader, Lisa is off again and we are dog
sitting for a while. (PS: No animals were harmed in
this column. Everything was carefully orchestrated
and Reese was never left unattended.)
Until my next update, I remain, your jet-setting
correspondent.