Eight Days

We all know that moment in a horror movie, the one where the people being chased finally make it out of the creepy old house and to their car, and then...(drum roll)...the car won’t start.

That’s precisely what it felt like was happening to me yesterday when I went out to take the last load of TARC animals to Molly’s Place in Pennsylvania.

I’ve moved heaven and earth to get out of this hateful place. I’ve battled devils (also known as hellbillies,) money woes, lupus, and impossible circumstances so I can reclaim my health and sanity in a better part of the world. There is no good reason for me to stay where I am. I originally moved to Southwest Virginia to be with the man I would soon marry, but time and diverting interests have led us apart (without heartbreak or fighting, thank goodness--no drama here folks, so move along please,) therefore there is nothing left for me here. It’s time to go.

But when I’m ready to drive this last load of rescue dogs off into the sunset...brrp. The car, loaded to the headliner with animals, is dead.

It was eight o’clock in the morning when this happened, on a Sunday. I called a local tow service and asked if they could come give me a jump. “We can give you a tow,” the semiconscious man said when he answered their emergency number. “But we don’t have a roadside mechanic.” So I called AdvanceAuto--since they know every auto repair service in town--and asked if they could refer me to a garage that would do a roadside, er, driveway-side service like jumpstarting a vehicle. “It’s Sunday,” the semiconscious man said when he answered their store number. “Nobody’s open.”

That’s when I started firing off Facebook messages left and right and calling people who might be able to help. To summarize, let’s just say that was a mind-numbingly futile exercise. With the help of someone who was yelling at me for being a pain in their ass, I finally managed to attempt a jump-start, which went south as soon as we realized the battery was nowhere to be found under the hood. A quick Google search told me the battery is Dodge Journey could be located in the driver’s side front fender well after removing the tire. More yelling followed, and I did at least have help removing the lug nuts from the tire and getting the thing jacked up off the ground. But that’s where it ended. Once the level of difficulty in accessing the battery became clear, I was once again alone with the disaster, seven dogs and eight cats in crates in a dead car as the temperature climbed.

Then Lori Salyer came to the rescue. She runs the other 501c3 rescue in my area and over the years has become a dear friend of mine. She called Red Lane, the loyal volunteer who helps her with the animals, and within half an hour, we had the battery in his van on the way to AdvanceAuto for a charge. Unfortunately, the battery was beyond hope so Red brought me a new one. He then spent a hour or so crawling around on the gravel reinstalling the battery, reinstalling the mud shield, and putting the tire back on. Red, I owe you my life.

I also have to say that @michelios worked his mental magic again by staying on the phone with me almost constantly during this ordeal, being kind to me when it seemed at first that no one else would be, and sending me the funniest memes and animal vines to make me smile when all I wanted to do was cry. Michel, you’re a true friend. I owe you my soul, because I probably would have lost it by now if you hadn’t given me hope for the world.

The rest of the day and night passed uneventfully, except for the UFO I spotted on the way to Pennsylvania.

It turned out to be a hot air balloon. Nothing paranormal at all. But still, a very cool thing to see when driving up the interstate.

I took my personal dogs with me on this trip so they wouldn’t have to be home alone all that time. Tori is an ESA who will eventually retire as Michel’s dog and Milo, the large brindle Anatolian behind her, is my official service dog in training. He has his service dog gear as well as a letter from a qualified SD trainer stating that he and I are a working team and should be granted full access privileges whenever possible. He is learning the task of mobility assistance and will replace the cane I sometimes have to use. Not pictured in this photo is Paige, my ESA dog, who performs the task of preventing violence when I have an anxiety attack in public. LOL No, that is not an “official” task. But she does distract me and keep my blood pressure from reaching stroke level. Better than prozac, that dog.

Now all that is left is to get the health certificates for my traveling K9s, and their appointment is today, in three hours. I then have to finish packing and give the house a final scrub before I leave. Forty-eight hours from right now I should be in my car driving toward @martiawilson . She is traveling with me. You really need to read her blog about it. Her latest post got Curied, and rightly so. It is hilarious. I highly recommend giving it a read.

Now--off I go to get everything done. Time is flying. And soon, I will be too. Stay tuned!

cover photo source

Other Posts in this Series (because this one won't make sense if you haven't read the other ones)

Forty Days
Thirty-Nine Days
Thirty-Eight Days
Thirty-Seven Days
Thirty-Six Days
Thirty-Five Days
Thirty-Three Days
Thirty-Two Days
Thirty-One Days
Thirty Days
Twenty-Seven Days
Twenty-Six Days
Twenty-Five Days
Twenty-Three Days
Twenty Days
Eighteen Days
Seventeen Days
Fifteen Days
Fourteen Days
Twelve Days