The next day I was scheduled to finally get the exhaust pipe on my car fixed, but there was an issue with the weather. As is typical in the Seattle area, it was raining. In Ohio, we get all kinds of rain, from the steady drizzle to the monsoon-like downpour. In Seattle, you get the constant drizzle. The last time I was there, it rained essentially non-stop for three days. So with the rain, and because I couldn't stay inside the office, I was left with the problem of what to do with Samson.
I'm a person who had a coat, so the rain wasn't really an issue as far as I was concerned. But for Samson, I didn't think that it was fair to force him to stand in the rain for who knew how long. So I made the fretful choice to leave him alone in the hotel room.
That wasn't an easy option to make, considering his fearful nature, mingled with his natural Corso defensiveness. What if housekeeping tried to enter? What if he felt anxiety and trashed the room? What if he somehow got loose? In the end, I made the choice to leave him there based upon the nature he had demonstrated with me.
I drove the 15 minutes to the shop, waited for them to come get my car, stood in the rain while keeping track of the time, and I fretted. I'm willing to take certain chances in certain circumstances with my own dogs, but Samson wasn't mine. I was his guardian and caregiver, but he still belonged to the rescue. Luckily, the guys at the shop quickly made the repair, and I drove straight back to the room.
When I opened the door, Samson was laying quietly on the bed, and not a single thing was out of place. He lifted his head as if to say "hi, hooman. What's up?" I went over and hugged him and petted him and told him how he was the goodest of all boys. That was his first real test of character, and he passed with flying colors.
While all of this was going on, Liz had been trying to find a place to take him until a suitable adopter could be found. She got ahold of a kennel in Redding, CA, that she had used before, and they agreed to take him in. Redding wasn't too far from Bremerton, so I told Liz that it wasn't a problem for me to go and drop him off.
Very early the next morning, I packed up my gear, and Samson and I headed to Redding. I was somewhere in Oregon when Liz got ahold of me.
"Where are you right now?" she asked me.
"About halfway through Oregon. Ummm, why?"
"It seems that the manager of the kennel won't be in till Monday morning."
Oh. Okay.
Liz then began to apologize for the mix-up, but I told her it was fine. I had to make the drive anyway, and if I had stayed back in Washington, I would have been in the hotel as well. Plus, I could drop Samson off first thing in the morning on Monday before it got busy, and then I could just drive back to visit my in-laws.
As a side note, while I do have character flaws, one of my strengths is being very patient. I've always been able to go with the flow, and there are lots of ebbs and flows in dog rescues. After all, if everything went according to plan, there wouldn't be a need to have a rescue in the first place. So Samson and I kept plugging along Highway 5 South.
Somewhere near the California border we stopped at a rest area so that both of us could have a potty break. Samson needed a walk at this point, and there was a cool pet area where I let him relive himself and do what my wife and I call "dogging."
Dogging is where dogs are free to do dog thing, such as smelling everything there is to smell, and peeing on all the places that other dogs have peed. Samson found quite a few things to investigate, so I let him lead the way. Dogging should always be on the dog's terms, and Samson got in some desperately needed use of his nose.
But eventually all dogging must come to an end, and I let Samson know that it was time to get back on the road. Samson let me know he wasn't quite done yet by the amount of pressure he was putting on the slip lead, but he quit resisting and happily got in my back seat. Before too long the sun came up, and we once again got to witness some amazing scenery.
After about nine hours, the two of us arrived at Redding. We found a Motel 6 (I promise that I'm not getting paid to plug them) and got a room for three nights. It was on the second floor, which was fine, and Samson did his usual jump up on the bed and lay down in such a way as to take up the entire width of the mattress. He looked at me as he sprawled out, and I just smiled at him and told him that it was okay. I had no idea what his life was like in New Jersey, but he certainly seemed to enjoy the comforts of a bed.
It was a Friday night in Redding, and Samson and I ate our suppers, which consisted of dog food for him and tacos for me. Alright, alright, I admit it...he had a wee bit of taco as well. When we were done, we lay on the bed together as I watched ESPN and Samson drifted off into blissful slumber.
To be continued...