Sunday Conversation

***This is salmon, a sad (but tasty) piece of salmon from Saturday dinner.***

Bernie loved salmon, if you recall, I fed it to her as part of the Bernie stew I made for her the last six months of her beautiful life. Chad likes salmon too.

So, I am scheduled to be flying the friendly skies from Atlanta to Rio a mere 48 hours from now. It's a big trip, to say the least. I will fly about 17,000 miles on this trip--1,000 Minneapolis to Atlanta, 5,000 Atlanta to Rio, and 2,500 from Rio to Manaus. Double that for the round-trip total of 17,000. Wow.

Flying in and of itself doesn't cause me much angst. Of course, when you're basically just tossing your life aside and going to a faraway land that is virtually unknown, your tummy can get a little sour thinking about that. I'm pretty good by now, a couple weeks ago I had some mainly subconscious stress over the whole thing. One thing I've learned, though, is that things are almost always dynamite once you get there and get into it. Therefore, for the past couple weeks I've just been like, Let's Get It On!!! Come Tuesday, I shall. I go to the Amazon on July 20, for those of you keeping score at home, and will return to the Rio vicinity about a week later. It all shall be a hoot, I tell ya. Here's to good health, a key factor in all this for certain.

I must say, any trepidation I have is much subdued compared to when I had Bernie and was prepping for a trip. It's easy to judge a doggie's state of mind when you're mere feet apart. It's rather impossible when you're half a world away. I went to Sweden a few years ago for two weeks, which was the longest I'd ever left my dear puppy. She was a daddy's girl, for sure, had some separation issues that though mild were a little unsettling when I was away for extended periods. You know that she is obsessing, thinking really of nothing else but you while your gone. Wondering with every sound if dear ol' Dad is home. You just don't know, though, how hard it is or isn't on them. The pack mentality tells them you'll return, but I also think the pack mentality tells them to go find you, that you've met distress. Of course, we won't let them do that, so what's a dog to think?

So I'll leave here, my home in good hands, my body and mind slowly freeing itself temporarily from my life. It will be different this time, though. While I won't be missing Bernie (aside from the way I always miss her now), I will miss someone and a cute little furry canine. And you'll have to tune in tomorrow to find out whom and what the hell I'm talking about. G'night.