They are cute little pups, but they aren't hams like I am. Miss Judy had a hard time keeping them still for their photo session.
This is Tillie!
This is Tucker!
We left before Miss Judy, Tillie, and Tucker. We got about 5 miles down the road when Nancy said, "Geez, you know, I don't remember putting the sway bars on." Uh oh. She pulled over and sure enough, she hadn't, and worse yet, one was missing. She called Miss Judy, in a panic, hoping she hadn't left the campground yet to see if it fell off when we pulled away. If Nancy couldn't find the sway bar, she was going to have to go back to Casper where there's a big RV place. The thought of driving without sway control was scary-especially since it's not unusual for it to be windy in the west. Miss Judy is a very calm person and reassured her that everything was going to be okay. Nancy had to find a place to turn around to go back, and Miss Judy was just leaving so she was going to look on the way out of the campground. She told Nancy to meet her at the office. We were lucky that there wasn't much traffic on Nebraska 20 and we were able to turn around, but then because she was nervous, Nancy made a wrong turn. What else could go wrong! She had to make another U-turn with the trailer. Things were not going well, that's for sure. She backtracked the same way we had come from the park, and there it was on the side of the road. She pulled over, put her caution lights on, and called Miss Judy but got no answer. She put the sway bars on the trailer, noting that we had been very lucky not to have any damage to truck or trailer. Then, Miss Judy called and we went back to thank her and say good bye, again, before we got on our way.
The drive was uneventful. The wheat fields don't seem as gold, and there were only Co-ops, no little farms or ranches along the way. We did see a herd of antelope. Nancy said she didn't think they traveled in herds. Learn something every day.
We stopped to eat lunch in a town called Gordon. We pulled into a parking lot. Nancy walked me, gave me some water, and even let me have some plain tuna fish which was delicious. While we were parked she snapped a couple of pictures.
I swear, I think Nancy cried all the way from Ft. Robinson to Valentine, another depressing mid-western town where the streets are wide and there's no traffic. We pondered whether it's more depressing than narrow streets with too much traffic. We love our people in the east, but the temptation to turn back to get lost in the mountains and valleys and on the coast of Oregon was there. I guess it was the feeling that we'd never see them, again, that made it so hard to leave each place that we loved.
We went into town to get something to eat and to rent a couple of movies because we have no TV. The restaurant had good food, and it was the only game in town because it's Sunday. The waitress said we could rent movies from the grocery store. So, off we went.
I asked Nancy why she was so sad, and she said, "So many things mixed together." I didn't really know what she meant, and maybe she really didn't either. We pulled into the campground, and we signed up for two nights because we have to get the oil changed and there's a place in town that does it. It's about a five mile drive back. Just when I thought I'd never cheer her up, she found a dirt road through a field of hay that had already been baled and she said, "C'mon, old boy, let's see if we can smell the hay." She always smiles when I wag my tail so I knew everything was going to be okay. We walked and talked for quite a while and wanted to keep going to see if we could get to the end of the road and what was there if we did, but another dog was coming toward us so we turned around and went back. That was okay. We'll take a long walk, tomorrow, and it will be a new day.