Thirty-Nine Days

If you had told me last July that in a year’s time, I’d be selling everything I own, boarding a plane, and flying to Europe for a minimum of six months, I would have accused you of eating mushrooms...and not the kind you buy in the grocery store.

Last July, I had never been on a plane, much less to Europe. Oh, I’d been across the line into Canada a time or two and in 2003 my dog peed on the Mexican border fence, but that was the extent of my international experience. Oh yeah. The cruise. There was a cruise once, to the Bahamas. I don’t remember much of it, because at fourteen, international waters and free bars make an absolutely mind-numbing combination.

In September of last year, I flew to Toronto for a Steem conference. Not only did I survive the flight, but I loved Toronto. I even loved the airplane travel. Me, who’s had nightmares of plane crashes my entire life. Then in November I flew to Poland for Steemfest 3. Now, that was an experience. But still, although I set my mind to attend Steemfest 4 before SF3 even got started good, the idea of spending half a year away from American soil would have given me the shudders.

My how things can change.

In my post Forty Days, I talk about the reasons I need to move. In this one, I’ll tell you what challenges I face.

First, I have to disband the rescue. This means placing all the dogs, even the dogs I had committed to sanctuary. These are dogs with behavioral issues that other rescues won’t touch, dogs who are just not quite ready to be adopted into homes. One is a confirmed fear biter. The other two are feral. When I say feral, I mean for you to imagine putting two wild coyotes in your house. It was a year before I could get a leash on them, if that tells you anything.

Today, those two brothers are much better. They’re inside the house with me right now, acting like dogs and not coyotes. There is hope for them. But no other rescue I’ve contacted (and I’ve contacted dozens) will even talk to me about taking them. I guess I’m supposed to live here with them until either I or they die? But just let me suggest I might have to put them down, and oh the rocks that will get hurled in my direction, most by the same damn no-kill organizations who refuse to help me with them.

Four other dogs live here that have been accepted by a rescue in Pennsylvania. I’m supposed to take them on transport next week. But here’s the thing. Transports, along with the vetting required to cross state lines, cost money. Right now the rescue is broke, and all my personal funds are tied up in getting me the heck out of dodge. I’m looking at a minimum of $500 to place these seven dogs, even if another rescue stepped up to help the three difficult ones. Not sure what I’m going to do just yet, but I need to figure it out fast.

The other major obstacle I face is the property I own in Southwest Virginia. It will not be easy to sell. It’s a fixer-upper in every sense of the word. I bought it that way, but never got around to the fixing up part. The bear market didn’t help. I’ve had some people express interest in it, and I do believe it would be a good investment for the right buyer. All of that notwithstanding, I have to get on a plane in twenty-nine days and fly away from here. If the bank ends up getting the property back, so be it. I have to go.

Tomorrow I have to start hauling everything to the dump that I can’t put in my suitcase or sell. When I look around, I can see that’s an awful lot of stuff. I think I’ll start in the basement and just tackle one room at a time. There are four rooms down there and a storage area. That’ll keep me busy for almost a week.

I’ll keep you posted.

*cover photo source*