Booradley's Grand Adventures (Poor Boo)

Booradley, our mutt rescue from Louisiana, is probably happiest when he's doing this; quietly hanging around somewhere close to Shar. He likes the places he knows, is terrified of cats, raccoons, pigs, inanimate though occasionally moving counter weights on garden gates, strange places, and anyone he hasn't known for at least a year and who pays him the slightest attention. We packed up this poor, handsome creature and drug him halfway across the country so it is only fair that he get a little love here. Here are the first in what may be occasional chapters of Boo's Grand Adventure.

Boo traveled back and forth between Lafayette, Colorado and Port Angeles, Washington twice in four weeks. He first rode through Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington. He got to ride in an Audi. The Audi was full of all of the precious things Boo’s mother was afraid to have anyone else carry. Boo was one of the precious things and got much of the front passenger seat to himself. Not the floor space, which was packed, and not really all of the actual seat where one puts their rear end, but most of it. Boo was lucky to have enough room to curl up like the tail of a scorpion and try to sleep for 1500 miles. Boo would have been very comfortable if he weighed 20 pounds. He weighs 55. It was a Grand Adventure. Boo’s mother told him so. Boo would have preferred to hang out in his old Colorado driveway with his sister, Kat.

The second day of Boo’s Grand Adventure was very long, all the way to Aunt Lisa and Uncle Chad’s house in Sumner, Washington. Boo’s mom and dad saw beautiful mountains, deep river canyons, the Columbia River, farm fields and vineyards stretching as far as their eyes could see, (his mom also saw a Starbucks in Boise), and the Cascade mountains climbing and then dropping toward Seattle. Boo saw the dashboard of his mom’s Audi and his own tail as he slept curled up for twelve hours on his twenty square inch seat. Then he got to Lisa and Chad’s house where he saw Lisa and Chad, barked at them as if they were attacking him with bats and Bowie knives (they weren’t ), hid behind his mom, and snapped at Chad for trying to make friends. He also saw Wilson, Lisa’s large, hairy cat, which reminded him of a red and purple devil creature in Louisiana that tears dogs like Boo to bits in the most painful and horrific way as they eat the victims bite by bite. Boo cried and screeched like a baby puppy with a paw caught in a bear trap. Wilson looked perplexed but happy, pleased to be in on Boo’s Great Adventure. Boo was beginning to wonder if he understood what “Grand” or “Adventure” meant. All he knew for sure is that the world was full of Wilson's, Jackalopes, and hiker tickling Sasquatches. The darn things kept popping up.

The next day, Boo got to his new home city, Port Angeles, Washington. He got to stay in a condo with a stunning view of the harbor. Boo could not see the view unless he was out on the balcony with his dad. Boo’s dad loved the balcony and the view. He and Boo’s mom watched pilot boats race out to ships passing the harbor. They saw tankers, cruise liners which looked like floating cities, container ships, a big, oceangoing underwater cable repair ship, ships loading up with thousands of skinned logs, skull rowers, sail boats, and birds. They thought the view and the balcony was grand. What an adventure, seeing and learning all of this new stuff. Boo thought that the balcony was too high, couldn’t tell a pilot boat from a log, and wondered what the heck kind of bird was that white one with webbed feet soaring around or standing on the roof above them, laughing and screaming. What, he wondered, is so grand about this?

Boo moved to a farm house in the country. It was big and odd, smelled funny, like horses or farm, Boo’s dad said. There were dead flies everywhere, a dead bird in the fireplace, a big thing called a grain silo, two old garages or workshops that Boo’s mom and dad thought were filthy, cluttered wonders. They said that this farm house was all part of the adventure.

And, boy was it grand, surrounded by 100 acres. Boo couldn’t figure out what had been going in that big old yard that spread way, way off to trees far away. His dad said that those were fields and that we had to worry about coyotes out there that might want to eat Boo. Boo assumed that the coyotes must look a lot like Wilson, Aunt Lisa’s fluffy devil cat.

Boo had gotten settled into the Farmhouse and was enjoying the farmyard. He liked riding out to the lake property where men were working big machines, building walls, marking the ground, doing all kinds of stuff that was noisy and, while didn't look all that inviting, kept Boo from getting bored. His mom kept saying would be his home (he couldn’t figure out what was going to happen to the farmhouse; all of their stuff was there now), Then, Boo’s mom and dad loaded up suitcases, put them into the back of his dad’s truck under a big green cover his dad laced all up with bungee cords, and said “Boo, get into the truck, we are going on another grand adventure.” “This is just grand.” thought Boo. He knew what he meant.

The truck looked a lot like it did when they were driving away from Colorado in the Conestoga (Boo’s dad kept calling his gray Toyota Tacoma truck "the Conestoga." He thought it was all cute and western pioneer like. Everyone else asked him what the hell he was talking about. Boo never asked because Boo did not care)

“We are driving back to Colorado,” said Boo’s mother. “We have to get your brother, Conor, a place to live.” Boo was happy to be with his mom, where ever she was going. Boo did not much mind being with dad but mom was just the best and didn’t complain about Boo’s dog hair getting all over the inside of her car. Dad made it clear that he was completely bummed that his new truck was practically an unlivable mess because of Boo. Dad covered his entire back seat with a moving blanket, which was fine by Boo. And Boo did not care where they went, although sometimes he would sit up and look out at a mountain or a stream or the rental RV driving feet away, a forest clearing beside a lake painted on its metal skin featuring a mother, father, and two children frolicking, their faces distorted and off color; a “Rent Me” sign in dog high letters ensuring that the renters would never regain their dignity. Boo’s mom and dad would say that it looked like Boo was interested in the geography or geology or meteorology. Boo was not interested in “ologies” or “phys”, he couldn’t see what anything really was and mostly the blurs whizzing by his window made him want to go to sleep. Boo, slept for hours and hours. Boo did not like surprises, being scared, or anything he was not used to. Boo did not know what adventures were, grand or otherwise, but if he did know, Boo would have been against them. Adventures, it turns out, are chock full of things you are not used to, including surprises and frights.

Boo also didn't like waiting in the car, like, for instances, in Butte, Montana. They all had walked around an old mining area (mom and dad complaining that with such buildings there should be “SOME PLACE TO BUY FOOD”). They finally found a great place, although Boo had to wait in the truck. It was hot so they left all the windows cracked open and parked the truck in shade of a tree. Big f’n deal, thought Boo, what if I left them in the locked truck under a tree? Would they feel better when I got back if I poured them some luke warm water into their dinner plate and called them a good boy and a good girl?

While we are not near done describing the things Boo did not like, Boo did love it when his mom asked for a "Pupacinno" at Starbucks and he promised (if only in his head) not to slop the whipped creme all over the Conestoga's (there he goes again) upholstery again and make his dad scream .

Boo did not like strangers, like in Billings, Montana when Boo waited with his dad on the street while Mom went looking for something to drink. A nice man asked to pet Boo but didn’t wait to hear dad say…”no” before starting to reach. Boo went crazy barking and the man, turning red with fear and embarrassment. He said, “I’m sorry, I love dogs” “Me too,” said Dad…”but it would probably make sense to wait for the answer.” Dad sounded like sort of a dick but he was frustrated. Anyway, if an adventure is sometimes surprising and sometimes scary, Boo decided that he had done the red faced man a favor and given him an adventure. It was a lot like when he bit the old Vietnam veteran in Pendleton, Oregon. Boo’s dad said, “please don’t reach out to him, he will bite you.” Then said, “I’m sorry but that’s the reason I told you not to reach out to him.” Boo’s dad worried that the old man, Vietnam vet patch shining on his ball cap, long since past any warrior days, might have dementia and that Boo really couldn’t be taken anywhere. Boo wondered what this Prozac thing was that his parents kept talking about.

One night they stopped the Consetoga in Buffalo, Wyoming. Mom and Dad ate at a fancy, historic restaurant and looked around a fancy, historic hotel, The Occidental. Wallowing in the Old West romance of the place, they loved the tin ceilings, the old time wall paper, and the photos of early guests Teddy Roosevelt, Ernest Hemingway, and Butch Cassidy. Booradley was left in the motel room of the Buffalo Inn curled up on a blanket. “If I’d only known how grand and romantic the Old West could be,“ thought Boo. “maybe I’d have peed one more time before they left for dinner. This holding it is getting to be quite the adventure.”

Next day, they rolled into Boulder, Colorado, the family’s old home. Suddenly, there in the middle of all those people, Boo’s brother, Conor, came strolling up. Mom and Dad hugged him. Boo had been wondering what the heck happened to Conor. and why he wasn’t squished into one of the cars day after day. Boo nuzzled and played with Conor, suspiciously eyeing other

people moving around because you never know when the whole crowd might attack. For all Boo knew they could all be Zombies, and you know how Zombies are. As they all sat down outside for lunch some older dude with a knowing smile and a green shirt reached to touch Boo’s face. Boo snarled and barked. The man jumped and said, “Wow, that dog is nervous!” Boo thought, “Call me nervous again, Zombie breath. I dare you.” Dad put Boo in the car. “Well, crap,” thought Boo. (This photo from the original day we left Colorado).

That night Boo, his mom and dad drove the Conestoga to Carrie and Kevin’s tall, skinny Victorian row house in Denver. A big, old black lab named Chopper and a little bitty Chihuahua, Poppie, made a big deal about Boo showing up. Chopper barked and barked, Poppie humped and humped. Boo didn’t mind that Poppie was an obsessive humper but wished that Poppie would find something to hump that wasn’t Boo’s leg. Boo tried to be patient but snapped and growled sometimes. At least he was sure that Poppie wasn’t a Zombie…everybody knows that Zombies don’t hump. Boo liked Kevin, who sent Poppie away, and Chopper was a pretty good dude who barked more than Boo, which took off some of the pressure to behave. But Boo was almost wishing that he was back in the “Conestoga” with the green tarp. he soon learned to be careful what he almost wished for.

One evening Boo’s mom pulled out her suitcase and started doing laundry. “Oh Crap,” thought Boo, "This is how it starts.” Boo walked in circles and up and down the stairs in the row house. He sat next to his mom while she talked to Carrie or Kevin or Dad. He stared at his food bowl but didn’t eat. He put his head on his paws and sighed deeply. Boo knew that this meant one of two things…and neither of them was good. Either mom was going away and leaving Boo with Kevin and Carrie or, God forbid, Dad….or they were all going back into the Conestoga. Mom told Boo not to worry, which would have sounded like complete B.S. if Boo had any idea what his mom or anyone said, ever.

BOO GOES TO CANADA

Back home and much later, Christmas was coming. Boo could tell because Mom was baking cookies and making something she called “Bark,” which seemed like some sort of cultural appropriating to Boo because everyone knows that bark is dog language and naming something else ‘bark’ seems unnecessary when they could have named it candy cane and chocolate candy, anything in the world, like “candy cane and chocolate candy”, for instance. Dad started going up on ladders around the outbuildings at the Farmhouse, stapling lights around the openings, stumbling over thorny blackberry vines, and getting his down jacket caught on a barbed wire fence. Boo thought that it was probably a good thing that Dad didn’t have to feed the family by actually farming since he spends most of his time in the Farmyard getting unstuck from thorns and barbwire. Boxes came out of the scary, old cellar and for a second Boo trotted around the house wondering “what the f…, are we starting this all over again?”

First a fire and Christmas Vacation on the tv; then the cozy old living room of the old Farmhouse was filled with Christmas stuff Boo recognized and Mom’s baking filled the place with wonderful smells, so Boo started to relax.

Then, one very rainy day Mom and Dad drove away and left Boo alone. They said they’d be back but it got dark, continued to rain, and it seemed like they would never come home. Then, the truck lights pulled in the driveway, which was good, but there was an extra person in the truck, which was horrible. Boo just knew that Mom and Dad had picked up some creepy old hitchhiker who had put a fat Bowie knife to their throats and made them drive to the Farmhouse where he would load up all of the art work and Mom’s piano and Boo’s dog bowl into the truck and drive away, leaving the three of them destitute or dead or both. This really worried Boo because he wasn’t sure where he had gotten the word destitute or what it meant, but it just didn’t sound good. Boo ran out the door, right at the stranger, barking (see, dog word) as if he was actually brave and not scared of every cat or raccoon on the planet. Then, holy crap, the stranger was no stranger at all. It was his boy, Conor, there in the Farmyard, in the rain. Boo was so excited he almost forgot that he hadn’t peed for several hours. Over the next few days Boo played with Conor, watched him start the fire, and went to the lake house with him. Then, one day, Dad drove away and when he came back there was another stranger in the truck. This time it was his sister, Kat who hugged on Boo and let him lick her face, which Dad thought would be just fine if Boo didn’t sniff poop and other dog’s butts every chance he got.They all went out to the Lake and Boo showed his brother and sister around. They loved The Wall.

The next day Mom said “Get in the truck, Boo, you’re going to Victoria, Canada. This will make you a very special dog because you will be an “International Traveler.” Boo soon learned that “International Traveler” meant that he sat jammed into the backseat of the truck with Mom and Kat until the truck drove onto a boat.

Then he was left alone (which was more comfortable) while he was surrounded by loud engines and he swayed back and forth until he thought he would spend the rest of his life dizzy (which was not more comfortable). When everyone came back to the truck, they drove off of the boat and Mom said “Boo, you’re in Canada.” “Yea” thought Boo. As excited as she sounded, Boo assumed that he would have good grassy places to pee and poop, that there wouldn’t be a bunch of scary people wanting to touch him, and that there would be no hotel rooms. Boo was right about the green grass, there was plenty. He even took the opportunity to “poop on Parliament” as Kat called it, as they walked on the great, green lawn in front of the beautiful old legislative building all lit up for the holidays. Otherwise though, he found that Canadian people were just too damn nice and wanted to touch him ‘because they love dogs.’ “Well, f--- you” Boo thought, which he also barked/screamed at them if they looked at him with any interest at all. He could tell that what they really wanted was to strangle him with their bare hands, even the young sweet ones; he just wasn’t having any of that. And, there were hotels and motels in Canada so Boo got to spend a lot of time alone in the room. Oh well, what else was new? His family hated him, they didn’t love him, they left him alone in terrifying, strange places filled with odd, scary noises and voices of potential attackers out in the hallway. But then they would come back, Kat and Conor would scratch and pet him up, someone would take him on long walks all over, near the water, through sweet neighborhoods, with lots of confusing Christmas lights everywhere.

Even while the family was in the middle of a shopping frenzy Mom said was caused by something called an ‘exchange rate,’ Conor walked Boo all around cool, old buildings. Sometimes everyone took Boo and walked all around the beautiful legislature building and the harbor, everything all lit up and not too cold. They oohed and ahhhhed over massive yachts and masts strung with colorful lights. Victoria, Canada wasn't bad at all (his family loved it) and before Boo was forced to taste poutine, they all loaded up in the truck, rolled onto the ferry Coho, and floated across the Strait of Juan de Fuca to the United States.

Back at the Farmhouse, Kat and Conor said goodbye and the family left Boo alone to lick his feet for as long as he wanted while they all drove to the airport. That was the end of the Boo’s Great Canadian adventure.

Some other time: Boo at the lake, on vacation, and living a dog's life amid construction.