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Country Dog in the Big City

*Please note, I’m moving some blog posts from a separate blog and combining them on Kitten Holiday.  These may seem out-of-place for now but as I move forward I will be posting a greater variety of writing. Just doing some clean up for now. Thank you.*

With Hurricane Matthew coming up the coast I decided it was time for me to hit the road. I live less than a mile from the water on the coast of North Carolina. On top of that, the roads from my house to the main roads flood easily. So easily that they were starting to flood before the storm even got here.

I’ve been through a few Category One hurricanes before. It’s a lot of wind and a lot of rain but my house has weathered the storm fairly well. Structurally, it’s good. I can’t say the same for the roads or the electric grid. The prospect of being stuck in my house with no electricity for 3 or 4 days didn’t sound appealing. So, once again I decided to make lemonade from my lemons and I booked a hotel inland for a few days where I can continue my little writing spree uninterrupted by the brutal, terrorizing reality of mother nature.

Drove 3 hours and here I am in a town that is far more depressed economically than I expected. Makes me realize (for the millionth time) how great I really have it in my little house on the beachy. Checked into my hotel, got some groceries, cruised up and down the main drag long enough to know that if I stay in the hotel for 4 days without ever leaving, I will not be missing anything and then I got settled with my copilot, Domino, my dog.

Domino is a pitbull mixed with a bunny rabbit. I adopted him 2 years ago on Valentine’s Day because f*ck that stupid holiday, f*ck boyfriends, I’m getting a dog. Best Valentine’s Day of my life. Shortly after adopting him, I learned he was a scaredy cat, afraid of being alone, afraid of garbage bags, afraid of canned beverages and full of heartworms. Obviously, we are a lot alike.

When we got here, Domino took no time in letting me know he was scared out of his mind. He does not like this city living. He does not like doors that open on their own. He does not like shiny slippery lobby floors. He does not like elevators. He does not like the city at all. Not one bit. He let me know by straight shaking for almost an hour. Every time I stand still or sit down, he sits on my feet. It’s his safe space.

After he calmed down a bit I thought maybe it would be good for him, and me, to check the place out, get familiar with out surroundings. So we walked a couple halls and hung out in the lobby where we met another couple who are here from Charleston. They think their house is toast. Built on a slab, 2 miles from the water. Mandatory evacuation. They were pretty perky though. This hotel has a bar and allows pets so everyone is pretty happy despite the circumstances.

Two gorgeous husky’s came into the lobby looking elegant and regal while their owner with a salt and pepper beard that matched their coats perfectly walked behind them, perfectly behaved.
They led him into the bar where he drank a beer and looked like the magestic bearded older man that is in many internet memes about sophisticated older hipster lumbersexuals.

Talked to the couple from Charleston and then to the Husky man with his husky dogs while my dog sniffed their dogs butts. No one sniffed my butt, but that’s fine. I’m really not here to make friends, just to weather the storm.

My dog had his tail tucked in so hard he was tucking his ass in too. He’s a pit bull mix and he was scared as a chihuahua next to the badass huskies and the little terrier with the Brillo pad mustache. I call my dog a male feminist. He’s been castrated, so now you understand why he’s a wuss.

After chit chatting, we went to the car to get his bag of food and he jumped in. “No, we aren’t going, come on out.” he wouldn’t budge. I pulled on the leash and he dug in his heels. He wanted to GO. He thinks I have made (another) big mistake. He’s questioning his loyalty. A dog. Questioning his loyalty. But he does. I see it in his eyes. He’s triggered and wants a safe space. I think if he were human he would paint squirrels in water colors and speak softly.

I tried to get him out again, no luck. So I got in the car, put on my seat belt. Turned on the car. Then turned it off. Took off my seat belt and got out. Opened the back. “We’re here!”
He hopped out.

I love my dog. He is just like me in a new relationship. All hopeful and stupid thinking it’s a brand new place even though not a damn thing has changed. I’m still not home. It’s still raining out and I’m scared of everything.

The only difference is Domino pooped in the lobby and I don’t poop. I’m a lady.

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