1700 miles down

Twenty-six hours and 1700 miles later, we successfully made it to Arizona. The trip was almost too easy and breezed by with zero car mishaps. Just to be cautious, we stopped every two hours so the Newfies could drink some water and stretch their legs. We chalk it up entirely to luck, but both Thatcher and Boden are ideal passengers in the car. They braved the miles cheerfully, running their energy out at rest stops and napping soundly during the drive. The car we rented for the journey was spacious, but still a small backseat for two Newfies. Surprisingly, they didn't get mad at each other once. Instead, they snuggled for much of the time, one lying with his head on the other's back. Good brothers. I did regret not bringing my camera with me, but managed to snap a few photos with my phone.

The only tiny problem we encountered was not on the road, but when we stopped at a motel to sleep on the Fourth of July. We arrived right at dusk, checked into our room and took the dogs out for a brief walk before bed. As we were meandering back towards the motel parking lot, we heard fireworks going off. Thatcher immediately became tense and grabbed the leash in his mouth to pull us back to our room. As we got closer, we saw that the noise was coming from our motel parking lot. A group of people had clustered around to light some noisy, sparkling fireworks right in front of the walkway to our room. Thatcher beelined for our door as fast as he could, J struggling to manage him. We got back into the room and immediately closed the blinds and turned the TV on to drown out the commotion. Despite our attempts to comfort Thatcher, he hid in the bathtub most of the night, barking loudly any time he heard a boom. 

Otherwise, we couldn't have asked for a smoother roadtrip. Now comes the hardest part - adjusting the boys to these extreme temperatures. Walking them is only possibly in the early morning or late evening. During the day the sidewalks are burning hot and will hurt their paws. Usually they jump at any chance to go outside, but have learned really quickly here that it's not very fun. Boden will go out to go potty when called, but Thatcher usually chooses to stay inside and lie on the cool tile. The pool has eased the discomfort a little bit, and I think swimming is going to turn into one of their main forms of exercise for the summer. So the transition is in the works as we learn the tricks of living in a hot climate with big, shaggy dogs. I'm sad I have to leave them to go to back to work tomorrow, but I tend to be overly anxious. Let's face it, they usually sleep all day regardless of whether I'm there or not. 

Rest stop break, only 20 more hours to go!

Ready to get back in the car after a short

End of the hiatus

73 excruciating days. That's how long it's been since I left my boys in MN (and even longer since I last blogged about them!)

Let me rewind a little. This past winter, J and I debated the idea of moving out of the Midwest and trying somewhere else for a change. Free from too many major obligations, like kids or a mortgage, we figured this is the year to do something different before we settle down further. We agonized for months, going back and forth, tossing ideas around. Change is scary, and neither of us was sure if we wanted to commit to such a dramatic change as moving across the country. We researched many locations, but ultimately decided that we wanted to live near some sort of family. And it just so happens that my sister lives in the Southwest. 

Fast forward a couple months, and I find myself in the hot, sunny desert - Arizona to be more precise. Due to a whirlwind interview process and job offer with a great company, I made the road trip down here in April, pulled into town on a Sunday, and started work the next day. Unfortunately, the quick transition did not give us enough time to arrange for the dogs to come with. J is staying behind to work through the end of their peak season, so he's been a single papa to the dogs since I left. It's been hard on all three of them. J works such long hours during the summer, so the dogs have been on their own a little more than usual.

I did get to see them over Memorial Day weekend, but it was such a short trip it hardly counts. And I literally can't even describe how melancholy life has been without my Newfies, so instead I will share the news: they're joining me this week. I'm flying into Minneapolis on Wednesday, then J and I are driving the pups down. Needless to say, we're in for an adventure. Aside from the 26 hour drive down here, we're going to have to learn to adjust them to these extreme temperatures. We've got a few months left of scorching heat, so we'll have to get creative with finding ways to keep the Newfies healthy, cool and happy. The huge pool in our backyard should help a little, but I know that we're going to have to be extremely cautious when it comes to outdoor activities. 

J is staying in Minnesota through November for work, so Thatcher and Boden are going to have a ton of quality mommy time for the next several months. I think we'll take care of each other just fine. Time to see what this desert adventure has in store for me and my drooly giants. 

Memorial Day 2013

True Minnesota spring

In true Minnesota fashion, the tiniest glimpses of spring we got have been interrupted by another snowstorm. We received a blanket of snow overnight that has yet to let up today. Thatcher and Boden are ecstatic the blustery winter weather has returned. I let them out into the backyard this morning and then poured myself a cup of coffee. When I glanced out the door to check on them, they were both just lying in middle of the yard, contentedly munching on the fresh snow. I bundled up to trek with them to the fields up the street. In fresh, fluffy snow like this, walks end up taking double the time they normally take because every four seconds either a.) the dogs are lying on the ground trying to dig the snow clumps out of their paws; b.) the dogs have stopped to scoop up a few mouthfuls of snow; or c.) Boden is digging out a buried stick or branch.

While on our way to the fields this morning, Boden unburied what looked like a pretty solid stick and carried it for our entire walk. He pretty much always has a stick in his mouth on our walks, so I didn't really pay much attention - not that I could see well anyways with the blowing snow in my face. He frolicked around with this stick the whole time at the park and all of the way back home. As we got back to our yard, I noticed something unusual about it. This stick was actually a shovel. A small, metal gardening shovel. He was so proud of himself, he wouldn't let me or Thatcher get near it. He just pranced around happily, flipping it up into the air and swinging it around. My apologies to the poor neighbor who's now missing their little shovel. Feel free to come claim it, if you can manage to get it away from my proud little puppy.

Rain or shine

Mailmen have a tough job. Rain, snow and sleet make no difference - they have to go outside and get the mail delivered. Although I appreciate the work they do, I've always thought that I would never have the motivation to do their job. Yet as I trudged through pouring rain with the Newfies this morning, I realized that being a dog owner is actually pretty similar to being a mailman. Doesn't matter what kind of extreme elements you have to battle (and there are plenty here in Minneapolis), the dogs must be walked. The major difference, of course, is that mailman are at least getting paid to face the elements. Not us dog owners. It can be blizzarding outside, but I rarely give it a second thought as I bundle up to trek through the snow. The dogs could care less if I get frostbite from trying to scoop up their poop, which requires removing my mittens, in 15 below temperatures. And they definitely don't care if I can't see where I'm walking because my glasses are splattered with rain drops. They just want their walk. So while I respect those brave mailmen, I can't help but think that being a dog owner is one of the most hardcore "occupations" out there.

Open window weather

The last few days have finally felt a little bit like spring. Sun shining, temperatures in the high 40s to low 50s. During the warmer parts of the day, we've been opening windows just to clear the stale winter stuffiness out of the house. Thatcher and Boden now post themselves in front of any open window and monopolize the cool breeze that floats in. They sit with their chins resting on the window sill, sniff out new scents in the air and keep an eye on the ever-increasing squirrel population in the front yard. The snow is mostly melted, except for the few spots of the yard that are shaded from the sun. So Mr. Garbage-Disposal (aka Boden) has taken it upon himself to eat any stick, leaf or clump of dirt he can find. And whenever I let the dogs out to use the bathroom, I find them a few minutes later lying next to each other in the yard, basking in the warm sun. Instead of calling them inside, I let them enjoy this lovely weather all they can before the hot summer months roll around.