Zuni’s first Christmas came quickly and, with it, her first major road trip. Whether the decision was made before or after we acquired a dog, I don’t recall. But, for the Christmas of 2008, we loaded up the purple(!) Jeep and drove to Nick’s home state of West Virginia.

Zuni, like most dogs, loved car rides, but not for the reason you might think. We’ve all seen a dog with its head out the window of a moving car, tongue lolling around in the breeze. It’s quintessential dog.

Only thing is, Zuni never got the memo. She would poke her snout out the window while the car moved slowly. At the first hint of speed, she pulled her head back in, not a fan of rushing air on her face.

No, Zuni loved car rides because she had your undivided attention. In the car, unlike in the house, was a lap that never moved. She could snooze peacefully in the passenger’s lap for hours, a furry black stripe lying straight between your legs.

Occasionally, she’d look out the window or switch to “puppy puddle” pose, curled into a little nugget of fur, nose tucked under tail. If she needed a real stretch, she’d climb down to the passenger side floor and start digging, who knew for what. The urge to randomly dig just being one of Zuni’s few purely “dog” moments.

Driving to West Virginia from Boston in the winter can be tricky, depending on what Mother Nature throws your way. Combine that with my general dislike of long car rides (long runs I’m fine with, long rides…not so much) and we decided to break the drive down into two days, staying at a hotel somewhere in middle of nowhere Pennsylvania.

The hotel, as it turned out, was not pet friendly, and Zuni’s first road trip became our first encounter with the general hassles of traveling in America with a pet. An infectious child – or adult, for that matter – can go anywhere; our 12 pound lap dog, however, was clearly a terror of plague to be contained!

Of course, to us, Zuni wasn’t just a pet; she was a furry member of the family. So, we zipped her into her travel bag (something we couldn’t do with an actual child, so I’m told), covered the bag with Nick’s coat, and smuggled her into the hotel without a care.

Maybe it was because we zipped her into a bag, maybe she was just confused. Whatever the reason, as soon as Zuni popped out of the bag, she hopped right onto the bed, looked me in the eye, and proceeded to pee.

I looked on in horror, “Get her off the bed. Get her off the bed!”

Nick hadn’t witnessed Zuni’s moment of rebellion so was still catching on to what was happening. In the meantime, I grabbed Zuni, plopped her onto the floor, and ran to the bathroom for a towel.

Amazingly, the (white, mind you) bedspread had apparently been sprayed with Scotch Guard. I try not to think about why they decided to waterproof the bedspread, but, to our benefit, the pee beaded up into a puddle on top and I easily soaked it all up in the towel.

(OK, I know what you’re all saying . “This is why the hotel wasn’t pet friendly!” To that I say, “Keep in mind, they waterproofed the bedspread even though the hotel wasn’t pet friendly. What does that say about humans??”)

Bedspread tragedy averted, the next morning we smuggled Zuni back out to the car and continued on our way to Sandstone, WV. 2008 was an amazingly mild Christmas season in West Virginia, making it easy to take full advantage of the great outdoors.

At first, I was leery about letting Zuni wander off leash in West Virginia. Nick had no qualms, and snapped her leash off almost the minute we arrived. And, he was right! Zuni didn’t wander far from our side.

Zuni got a big kick out of West Virginia! She loved traipsing through the woods during our hikes. She loved warming herself by the wood stove in the evenings.

She was less than enthused by the number of other dogs in the household. Her preferred way to get away from them was to race over to Nick or I and hop on her back legs until one of us picked her up. Whenever we were in West Virginia, if Zuni wasn’t enjoying the outdoors, she was pretty much in-arms.

For Zuni, however, the highlight had to be the wildlife. And, by wildlife, I mean farm animals. Born and raised in the city, I’m fairly confident that Zuni had never so much as seen a live chicken before. Forget about the cow.

The cow was minding its own business along the edge of the fence near the cabin where Nick’s mom was living. Zuni spotted it and instantly decided to stir up trouble, racing over to the fence and skidding to a halt just beyond the cow’s reach.

“HEY! Hey, hey, hey!”, Zuni barked her little head off. With each energetic round, her entire body bounced into the air, coming alarmingly close to the lowest wire of the electric fence.

Those few thin wires were the only things separating Zuni and the cow, mind you. Thankfully, the cow simply looked on resolutely, as if to say, “You stupid little dog. I could squash you, but why bother.”

Nick, his mother, and I couldn’t contain ourselves. We laughed and laughed, as Zuni continued on with her tirade, rushing the cow and then dodging back, and then rushing the cow and then dodging back, all the while barking away. She continue until the cow’s resolution started turning to irritation, at which point we pulled her away.

That’s when she discovered the chicken coop. Where had this mecca of poop been all her life?! Zuni zipped right under the coop, flopped on her back, and started frantically rolling.

“Must”, roll. “Cover”, roll. “Entire”, roll! “Body in chicken poop!” roll, roll, roll!  She was in heaven.

Straw stuck out of Zuni’s fur at odd angles when she finally emerged from below the coop, high on chicken poop fumes. Slick with chicken shit, she couldn’t have been happier. It was Zuni’s first encounter with massive amounts of bird poop, but it wouldn’t be her last. More stories to come!

Zuni checking out the spread on the table during Christmas.

Yes, I’m still terribly behind on my posts, but please consider donating to my 2014 Boston Marathon fundraiser for the Animal Rescue League of Boston! There are still plenty of stories to tell!