“Dog is man’s best friend,” they say, but not everyone feels that way. I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you goodbye Travis. Maybe we can visit sometimes, but I’m not sure I’ll be back. The woods we once loved to roam aren’t safe anymore. 

When Dr. Baker asked how I was doing, I couldn’t resist saying, “Ruff!” He laughed even though it’s a really old line. The surgery, however, was no laughing matter.  

Sixteen staples have been removed and my shoulder is healing. Shaved hair is growing back, so I won’t get to show you my scar. My leg still hurts a bit, but I’m thankful to have it. Try walking on one front paw and you’ll understand. 

Destiny brought us together I suppose. When I was rambling alone I often ended up in your neighborhood. I never planned the trips, just felt a yearning to explore. Sometimes I went so far I couldn’t remember the way back. Buck, a friend of Neil’s, gave me a ride home several times in his truck. 

If you get a chance to travel by vehicle, you should go. A pickup bed offers great views and a strong breeze. For inside rides ask to sit by a window. Sticking your head out and letting the wind blow your ears back is awesome. Some people call that riding shotgun, but that word gives me chills now.

One of my early adventures took me to Royal Road. Neil’s phone number was on my collar so the nice folks let him know I was there. They fed me and said I was an exceptionally sweet dog. I know they meant it because they said it on my next visit too.

I spent one night at a clothing optional campground. They took good care of me but the mosquitoes were huge. Neil told me later we’re Southern Baptists and if I stared too long I might go blind. It’s not always easy to tell when he’s kidding.   

There were a couple more campground trips, but Neil didn’t have to go get me. Two fellows in a golf cart gave me snacks and took me home. Golf carts aren’t as fast as trucks, but their slower pace and open sides let you enjoy the scenery more. It’s amazing how many interesting things we pass by without really noticing.

After you and I began galavanting together, my trips became even longer. Sometimes you’d get tired and turn back while I kept going. That’s how I met three different families near Unadilla. There are a lot of good people in the Sugar Hill community. They all treated me like royalty.

Macedonia Church Road was one of my last and longest journeys. It’s about eight miles by highway, maybe longer on my meandering path. A young couple heard their dogs barking one night and the man found me outside looking haggard. I was covered in so much mud it concealed the number on my collar. They kept me in their barn and put my picture on something called Facebook. 

That trip was exhausting, but thanks to the kindness of strangers everything turned out well. I stayed closer to home after that, yet ran into worse trouble. I’ve always watched for snakes, gators, and Bigfoot, but I never suspected the most dangerous critter is the one who wears shoes.

My fenced-in yard here is spacious and sleeping accommodations are exceptional. Jane and Neil spend time with me, spoil me with treats, and take me on rides. Honestly though, it doesn’t compare to roaming. Squirrels taunt me daily and there’s an aloof cat I’m longing to chase. The cost of my safety is the loss of my freedom.

Please spend some time with Ethan, the little boy next door. Ethan and I loved our playtimes. His mom said he’s been asking about me. I’d like to see him, but I don’t know how to explain why I left. I’m not sure a young child should hear that story.   

Dog is no doubt man’s best friend Travis, and most of the time the reverse is true. I’ve met some lovely people during my travels, but it only took one man with a gun to make me wary of others. It’s still hard to believe he shot me while I was wagging my tail. 

Be kind to everyone Travis, but be careful. The woods we once loved to roam aren’t safe anymore.  

Love,

Harriet