THERE are days when I've just gotta get outta town.
The urge to set my sights in a direction and go takes over. I want to see where the winding road takes me. Maybe it's my gypsy ancestors calling me, reminding me not to plant my roots too deep for any length of time, or maybe it's a way of letting off steam after a particularly stressful time.
When I give in to this urge I never really know where I will end up. I have found myself at the Calgary Stampede, at a little western town in Washington state, and at a roadside restaurant in Cache Creek having the best hamburger I have ever had in my life, just to name a few. Rarely, if ever, do I leave my faithful canine companions at home. Road trips are just not the same without those hounds sitting in the back seat, hanging their heads out the window watching the world fly by at 120 kilometres an hour.
Like most dogs they love riding in cars, or in my case a truck. Road trips that take most people three or four hours take me about twice as long when I bring my dogs. Stopping every hour or so to let the dogs out for a stretch and do their business usually ends up with me taking them for a short hike through the forest at whatever rest stop we find along the way. This little stretch and walk helps them stay settled in the truck when we are on the road, otherwise they get restless, start to pant and whimper in impatience. Sometimes following my dogs on these unknown trails in other parts of the province has lead me to some pretty cool things, like an abandoned railway tunnel, a stream once panned for gold and a small lake that was peaceful and secluded enough to go for a quick swim with the dogs and without a swimsuit.
I choose not to put my dogs in crates in the covered bed of my pick-up. I like having them close when we are on long drives so they sit in the back seat. Looking out the side-view mirrors and seeing their happy faces hanging out the windows always brings a smile to my face. I'm not driving to get somewhere. The drive itself is part of the adventure, and for me sharing that part with them makes better memories.
Because I tend to follow the direction the wind is blowing on these ventures, I make sure I have supplies for my dogs. A first-aid kit is a must. Many high-end pet stores carry first-aid kits for dogs, but if you can't find one, making one is easy. Gauze, antibiotic ointment, vet wrap, a child's sock (to cover an injured paw to prevent licking) and saline solution are the minimum basics. Carry enough fresh water for you and your dog. Trying to find clean water can sometimes be like trying to find diamonds.
Crossing the border into the United States is not as difficult with a dog as it used to be as long as the dog looks clean, healthy and alert. I have rarely been asked for a health check or ID for my dogs when I cross the border, but I carry it with me with my passport just in case. Dogs are required to have been vaccinated for rabies at least 30 days before entry into the United States, and you may be required to show proof. They also need to have some form of identification, be it a microchip, tattoo, or collar with tags stating name, owner and contact information.
Road trips don't have to be long excursions, but whatever they are if you find the gypsy spirit calling, pack a few essentials and your dog and see where the road takes you.
