The Journey Home

I'm not sure why I didn't get lost on my way back. I really wasn't paying attention to driving. My mind was reeling with everything. I was playing back everything that Scott had said. I was thinking about how great things were going to be now, how Stella and I were going to be stars! Every so often, I would reach behind me into the crate tub - I had collapsed her crate and it was like a tub for her - to touch her and make sure she was really there. And then it happened. I started crying. I was elated to have her back and able to work. I felt a bit foolish but was relieved that the flood of tears came after I left. I called Louise and Cynthia and babbled endlessly about her.

I hadn't meticulously planned out my return trip with her. As I arrived at the car rental drop off I had to figure out how to get her out of the car, assemble the crate, into the crate, onto a luggage cart and into the terminal. I bumbled my way through, got her to the airport and walked away as they carted her off to her seat on the plane. I went on through to my gate and watched for some sign of her being loaded on to the plane. I was worried that she wouldn't make it on. The flight home was relatively uneventful. We landed in Toronto and all I had to do was go get her and take her home. They brought her out and off she and I went to start our new lives together. Her on her luggage rack, me pushing it. We got to the bus stop where the shuttle bus to the parking lot would meet us. Then I saw the bus. It was a regular city bus. How was I going to get her on and off the bus? Fortunately, a nice young lad returning from a ski trip with his buddies offered to help me. What a gentleman.

Arriving at the parking lot, I realized there was no way for me to get her crate to my van. No luggage trolleys, only a miserable wheelchair. Well, it's got wheels so I decided to use it. I grabbed my leash, pulled Stella out of the crate and put the crate on the wheelchair. Poor Stella was a bit shell shocked after having been in the middle of nowhere for several months, here she is in the parking lot of the Toronto airport, and I dropped the crate on her. Twice. Welcome home Babydoll. We eventually got back to the van and she happily jumped into the spare crate I had in there. I shoved her crate in, my bag, and the wheelchair. I dropped off the wheelchair and we were on the last leg of our journey. We arrived home, I opened the door for her, put her in the back yard to potty while I parked my van. I got her from the yard and she nosed around the house noticing that I had rearranged everything. She looked at me and said "I'm not sure I like what you've done with the place, I'll let you know tomorrow." With that she went upstairs and flopped onto my bed. Yes Scott, I let her sleep there that night. And a couple more after that.

I spent the next three days touching her. I couldn't keep my hands off her. I hadn't realized how much I missed her until she was back home. Then we were headed to Craig's in Virginia.