A Logistical Nightmare

A Logistical Nightmare

Suzanne Marsh

“Hello, Mom? Frank and I are getting married on October 15th, here in New York.” Those few words became a logistical nightmare. I hung up the phone, turned, and said:

“What are we going to do with the dogs?” My husband of forty years smiled:

“We take them with us.”

“Four dogs, you and I in our Jetta? Are you insane?”

Thus began the logistical plan of the century. I still was not convinced that taking the four dogs was a good idea; we live in Texas. It is approximately 1,500 miles from Texas to New York. The decision was made, we were going, my husband was going to give our daughter away. The only thought I had after the decision was made was: ‘taking four small dogs on a trip that is over fifteen hundred miles, I must be out of my mind.’

The morning of October 9th, my husband began to pack the car; to this day, I have no idea how he managed to fit two duffel bags, a garment bag, four crates, and two coolers into that trunk. We left later than we planned but were finally underway. We stopped for dinner, Earl went into Rudy’s for our dinner while I sat in the car with the dogs. He returned with a chicken dinner for both of us, and the dogs wanted their share also. Our first night was spent in Texarkana on the Arkansas side. I had a terrible time finding a motel that would accept four dogs. I finally found one as I explained:

“We have four small dogs that don’t amount to one medium dog.” The voice on the other end of the cell phone said:

“I will only charge you for one dog.”

I was so thankful to have found a motel, we stopped and Earl registered us and the dogs. Millie, the youngest dog and our escape artist, decided that since I was opening the door to our room, she had a perfect chance to escape. Which she did, down the corridor she loped, I was hot on her heels attempting to catch her before she got to the lobby. She ran through the lobby. Earl had joined me at this point as the two of us chased Millie. We finally caught her, flushed, and we returned to our room. The dogs enjoyed the double room, with two queen-size beds. We were certain they would have one bed, and we would have the other one to ourselves. No, the four little stinkers slept on the same bed we did; they were used to sleeping on our bed.

The second day of our trip with the four dogs went smoothly until we stopped for lunch. The lunch was great, then we returned to the car. The dogs wanted out before Earl could get a leash on Millie, the escape artist, who was on the run! Earl was running after her with her leash in hand. She ran past several people, then came to an abrupt halt; a young man saw what happened, headed her off, and held onto her collar while Earl caught up to her. He thanked the young man, and an hour later, we were on our way once again.

Motels do take dogs, but it is difficult to find ones that will accept four dogs. The motel I called said that the amount for the room was sixty dollars, then promptly stated that each dog would cost thirty dollars plus a deposit. I told the woman thank you and pushed the disconnect button. I began a frantic search for a motel. I finally found one, it was in Ohio, our last stop on the way up to New York. It was in a very pretty park-like setting. We fed the dogs, settled them down, and called a pizza place. The dogs also enjoy pizza; they are such little beggars! At six in the morning, there was a loud clank. We were both jolted out of bed as we scampered to the window to find the garbage truck returning a garbage dumpster to its normal position.

The “WELCOME TO THE EMPIRE STATE” never looked so good; we were only three hours from our motel. Traveling with the four little fiends was a trip all by itself, but we had survived. We stopped to see our daughter before going to the motel. The dogs made quite an entrance, barking and attempting to give kisses to anyone in sight.

She was busy getting ready for her wedding, so we did not stay long. The motel was ready for the dogs; we were on the third floor. This soon became an adventure; none of the dogs had ever been in an elevator. Earl had the duffel bags and two dogs. I had a cooler and two dogs. We managed to get them into the elevator; they sat calmly until the door opened, out they went. We found our room, got everything organized, since the dogs do not get regular dog food, they get veggies and chicken, we had brought all the necessary items with us. We fed them, and they settled on the bed. Earl went back down to the main entrance to get the garment bag. He brought it up, I took the dress and his suit out, and hung them up. I turned when I heard CeCe, our Pomeranian and Yorkshire Terrier mix, growling. I looked down, and CeCe was growling at herself in the mirror!

We got up the next morning, and it was cold; we had not brought jackets. We drove to the closest Walmart, where we purchased hoodies. Earl went into the store as I waited with the dogs. He purchased a gray hoodie for me, which was nice and warm. The only problem was that I was going to have to wear it to the wedding over my pretty blue dress.

The morning of October 15th dawned, and I was supposed to go with the other girls to the hairdresser's to get my hair done. I should have been at my daughter’s house by eight in the morning. I am not a morning type of person. I had to get my hair done somewhere, so I checked the phone book, found a salon near us. We put the dogs in their crates and headed out. The girl in the salon did a very nice job. We returned to the motel, quickly changed into the clothes we were wearing to the wedding. Broke down the dogs' crates, put the dogs in the car, and drove over to our daughter’s house. This was quickly becoming a comedy of errors to say the very least. Earl set up the crates and put the dogs in them. Our daughter was racing around like a crazy person. She was half-dressed, her son was on his way to the church, and the other son, with his four children, was on a plane out of San Diego. When they arrived at the church, they had been up most of the night; their identical twin girls were about three months old, and they also had a son and another daughter.

We were all assembled at the church, just in time. The ceremony began, and I was escorted down the aisle and placed in the first pew. The organist began to play Canon in D by Pachelbel. Our daughter was dressed in blue on the arm of her dad. It was so cold that day, even with our hoodies on. It was funny, me in this really pretty gauzy blue dress, with a gray hoodie. I am glad no one took a picture of me, the mother of the bride, in a hoodie. They took pictures, but I had taken the hoodie off beforehand.

We left the following morning, and we were going to stay until after my birthday until we saw the weather. The dreaded four-letter word SNOW was on its way. We had no desire to find ourselves stranded in Buffalo, New York, driving in ice and snow.

We arrived home in one piece, and the dogs began barking as we pulled into the drive, as if to say it was a long trip for us, but we are home now. My logistical nightmare was finally over.