Road Trip! (Trex Is An Angel)

Bugs On The Last Morning . . .

. . . that he and I would be just us two.

And now we are three.  Today it’s the morning after Trex’s Transport Day.  Yesterday, in a Hardee’s parking lot in Jonesboro, Arkansas, we did the deed.  Friends: We did it.  The transfer has been accomplished.  I’ll never feel the same about Hardee’s.

Private-rescuer Chrystal said her sadness in saying goodbye to Trex was outweighed by the joy of seeing him off into a bright future.  I was the one who cried.  It was about loss, for me, no matter who may feel it.  I don’t know, actually I think we both shared a pretty sad moment there.

We were wondering how Trex would be, asking him to move from Chrystal’s carrier to ours.  Mr. Nonchalance.  We opened both doors — and he simply strolled into his new one, without a fare-thee-well.  Teresa kept saying how he appeared to know:  He had found his new person at last.

I felt the joy come soon after the parting from Chrystal and her daughter.  On the long, long, long ride home – plodding through pancake-flat plains of blurry mud, endless monoculture wastes of altered soybeans and genetically engineered rice, stretching from horizon to horizon as far as the eye could see – as the sun arced high overhead, as the day waned, as the sun went down in a blaze – Trex slept soundly.  He then explored the car, sat on my lap, patted driver Teresa with his paw many times, ate, and used the litter box.

And for the final dramatic leg through the cute little Bobby Hopper Tunnel, and up into the Ozark Highlands, he casually draped himself over top of his crate.  Enjoying the emerging sliver moon and silver stars, sparkling down on us through Teresa’s spectacular sunroof.

And many times he did his sighing little mew at us, and made us smile and smile and smile.

Toward the end of the trip, he got a little snotty and sneezy.  Chrystal predicted this might happen, due to his immune system not settling down just yet.  Her vet, though, gave him a clean bill of health, so we’re hoping that the sniffles were stress-exacerbated and will clear up soon.

There were set-backs.  These were not serious – let’s just say they “added interest” to the whole adventure (like more interest was at all necessary or called-for).  All the while I was preparing The Hell Room, in the lead-up, I had left the door open.  Last thing early yesterday, on the way out to hit the road, I tried to shut it.

Nuh-uh.  It’s warped.  Wouldn’t close.

So mid-morning on the road in Russellville, Arkansas, found Teresa and me combing Wal-Mart for a solution.  We didn’t want to go the obvious route of a hook-and-eye latch, because I am totally home-improvement-compromised and I own no tools whatsoever but for an ancient ball-peen hammer that seems to be good for very little but it was my Dad’s.

In the end, the hook-and-eye latch seemed the only solution.  We bought a selection, hoping and trusting that our four hands would do the job later, and we just figured we’d fall off that bridge when we came to it.

The bridge eventually came, of course, and we did fall off it.  The latches couldn’t be installed by hand.

And so, while poor Trexie waited in the car – an APB went out for Teresa’s husband to the rescue.  Here is his handiwork (not the crack in the frame, that was there before).

One set is to close the door tightly, and the other for later on in the acclimatizing period, when we will be able to crack open the door a little.

The only consolation to rousting Teresa’s husband on a Saturday night was that at least we did get in at a decent hour.

And then Bugs began to howl.  Note the bottle-brush tail.

To be honest, I can’t remember much about what happened next.  I did make a note at the time: “Now he’s settled down a bit but I can hear poor Trexie mewing.  I can’t get into base camp because Bugs is glued to the door.  The lights are still on in there!  I just don’t know what to do.  Honestly, after 12 hours in the car for the humans and 8 for him – was this really a good idea?  At all?”

I hated not being able to be with Trex – he was sounding awful “chuffy” and that sound, through the door, drove Bugs bonkers – but somehow both guys ended up quiet all through the night.  Bugs even came into bed with me, purring – and he very rarely does that.

The lights are still on, this morning – Teresa’s due to arrive shortly and we will soon fix that, and spend some time with both guys.  May I hear it for Teresa and her husband?  What friends will do for each other.

Bugs is up on Top Shelf sleeping now.  Before that, he was pretty quiet this morning.  Except for a few outbursts, which I quelled with our accustomed play routine and lots of chicken baby-food.  Then he settled down.  Still meditating on the new horror – but blessedly quiet.  Notice the peaceful tail.

Bugs Stands Vigil

Notice also the spilled contents of a large binder on the floor.  Happened last night in the frenzy.  I don’t even want to touch that, at the moment, for fear of upsetting the equilibrium.

And now, as the sun sets on this day, our gratitude goes out to Chrystal and family, who saved Trex twice from certain death.  As Chrystal said to him at the hand-off, “See what happens when you hang in there?  You made it home!”

Yes he and we did.  Thanks to Chrystal and family, and to the wonderful friends on the CB, all of whom made this happiness possible.

Pee Ess:  Please read here what Chrystal has to say, about from things on her and her daughter’s end.

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