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The drive

Colleen flew home to Oakland to drive with me to Grand Rapids with the dogs and whatever necessary items could fit in the car. We'd been separated for nearly two weeks, with her in Michigan getting Enzo settled and making sure the house was ready for habitation; me in Oakland getting the house packed and ready for the new tenants.

We spent our last night in the Bay Area at my parents' house in Alamo and left early on the morning of September 2 with the car packed so full that it was hard to close the doors; my bike was triple wrapped in cling-wrap on the portable bike rack; and the dogs were piled high in the backseat, on top of clothes and boxes and dog beds, with their heads nearly even with ours. Colleen fashioned a barrier out of a baby gate to keep them from bothering us in the front seat.

The same day we were heading East, Enzo would be making his way West to spend the Labor Day weekend with Nonni and Poppi. We wouldn't see him again until Monday night.

We had intended to drive for four days and arrive to Grand Rapids late on Labor Day, but Colleen and I were moving so quickly and easily by switching off every couple of hours that we powered through in three. We stayed one night outside of Salt Lake City and a second night near Omaha. We had planned to stop in Denver to see our friend Bondy, but she graciously drove all the way to Cheyenne to meet us there and feed us lunch.

The weather was fine; there was no traffic to speak of; and the views along the way were beautiful. The hotels were about what you'd expect to find along a major interstate with a pair of dogs.

The drive was about as easy as it could be, and the dogs were just as sweet. I think there were just happy we didn't leave them behind.

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