July 17, 2008 ~ Oregon

"I'm a leaving, on a jet plane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go..."
~Peter, Paul, and Mary

Whenever I tell people I'm leaving for another adventure, the usual first question is, "Where will Jack go?".

Thanksgiving Weekend 2006, my mother and I were walking the River Trail in The Dalles when I pointed out the dog shelter, Home at Last. Mom suggested we look at the dogs for fun. They had all the puppies in one room playing with eachother. The cutest little Springer Spaniel/German Shorthair Pointer mix was sitting in the corner with a goofy look on his face. I asked to hold him. He was perfect. Having just bought my first home, my mother felt I needed a new dog and pushed, "I'll get him for you for Christmas."

Often in my life I wait for the big changes to be forced upon me, because I don't seek or enjoy chaos {ironic for a middle school teacher}. Before I knew what was happening the paperwork was filled out and told to pick him up in three weeks, after his boy~parts "dropped" and he had surgery.

Walking out of the shelter, still bewildered by what just happened, I inquired to mom, "Where will he go when I'm in India?" And she responded with, "We'll take care of him." This has been my assumed deal ever since.

Jackson will be two years old in August. The last year~and~a~half have been filled with usual puppy chaos, however, Jackson is the best thing I have ever done. It is so hard to leave him behind when traveling.