The Fox and the Turtle: April 2015

The Case of the Disappearing Dog

5:08 AM

As we're nearing our final days here at Moulin Bregeon, Winry has gotten pretty comfortable here. Too comfortable.

She won everyone over quickly with her cute little puppy eyes and exuberant personality and once she had she started using it to her advantage. We wouldn't see her for hours only to find out she'd been "helping" Nora in the kitchen (staring her down until she got scraps) or during dinner we caught Pascal feeding her premium bits of chicken from his plate. One night she got so brave as to jump up onto Andreas' lap and steal a chicken one right off his plate. She didnt know what to do with the bone when she got it and we easily took it from her, but her boldness was becoming a problem.

So we banned kitchen scraps. After she learned that nobody was allowed to feed her anymore, Winry took matters into her own hands. First she started stealing scraps out of the compost bin. Barely noticable items like vegetable scraps or eggshells. But that soon gave away to chicken bones and the mad chase to catch her before she swallowed them. If the lid to the bin was even slightly off she found devised a way to push it down and then off completely. In the downtime between meals she found the compost pile outside and starting picking through it there.

It all seemed to come to a head Sunday. Zach and I had moved over to the "green room" which was a whole separate two story building with our room at the top and an office below. I was taking a nap when I awoke to Jonathon yelling "Oh no! Oh NO!" I look bewildered over to Zach who was reading next to me and he jumped up to run downstairs. I was still groggy with sleep when Zach returned with Winry, whose crime was smeared all over her face. The office downstairs was being prepared for a small cocktail party for everyone at the mill and some of Jonathon friends nearby. The table had been set with a decadent spread and seeing the holy grail before her, Winry jumped onto the table and was starting on the plate when she completely blew her cover by knocking the dish over. It was funny when she had snagged a few deviled eggs off the table during our friend Kristen's Christmas party, but it's less funny when she's breaking dishes that are antiques and extremely rare.

As she sat on the bed licking her lips and looking triumphant, I looked at Zach.

"What are we going to do?"

Neither of us had a good answer. Feeling frustrated and a bit melancholy already, I figured she just needed to get out for a walk. We had been working at the mill so there weren't the usual two mile runs to the village to wear her out. So I laced up my boots and threw on a sweater as night was starting to fall and carried her halfway down the driveway just in case she wanted to make a break for the buffet again. We started our way into the woods, a path we had now walked dozens of times. This forest is a bit different than others I've been in as all the trees were planted in rows and there are periodically long open trails through the brush dotted with deer stands. I stopped off at a particularly grassy trail and made my way to the deer stand, thinking I could sit and have some quiet and watch her adventure.

I made myself a little seat at the base of the stand trying to avoid the wet grass from the rainy day and as soon as Winry saw me sit down, she practically reared up to turn and run off. She bounded off in the tall grass and I was left to my thoughts as the woods around me prepared for night. Ten minutes passed and I realized I couldn't see or hear Winry. She likes to explore so Zach and I usually let her do her thing, but she usually stays near enough so we can see her or she simply comes back to check in periodically. I let ten more minutes pass just in case she would pop back in sight. Nothing. I stood and looked around to nothing but a quiet forest. I started calling and whistling for her, getting a little more desperate with each call. Still nothing.

As the minutes ticked on with still no sign of her, my mind race from one thought to the next. What if a fox got her? She yelped when a cat nicked her, I would have heard the struggle at least. What if she's caught in some bramble? Well, she is wearing that sweater. Oh god the police report... Yes, she's 16lbs, white and fluffy and was last seen wearing an American flag sweater.

I criss-crossed my way through that first section of woods, theorizing she wouldn't have gone in deeper. I combed through bramble and tall grass that soaked my boots. I jumped over ditches and even tried climbing a tree but realized with the thick spring leaves that it was useless (and the branches were too high). I eventually picked up a long, thick branch in an effort to protect myself against whatever got Winry and strained to look for red, white and/or blue while cursing my terrible eyesight. An hour passed and I had eventually realized I had to come to a descision. It's possible that Winry could have made it back to the mill, but if she didn't I had to go back in time to get Zach to help me search before it really got dark out. I was nervous to go back. If she wasn't there, it really meant trouble.

I started back towards the mill, first in a speed walk, then a run, and finally a dead sprint as I neared the buildings. I couldn't imagine what I would tell Zach. Just like earlier today, I wasn't watching her and she had gotten herself in trouble. I ran up the stone walkway and just as the panic settled, there she appeared in the doorway next to Martyn.

Happy, tail-wagging and eager to see me, she ran over and I dropped to my knees, crying as I held her in my arms. I cried and cried and she sat patiently, licking the tears off my face. Martin and Hannah ran out and sat down next to me, with Zach arriving close behind. He had been on the phone with his mom and had happened to look out the window as I was returning. I choked out my story of searching for her for over an hour only for Martin to tell me that she had been back at the mill almost the whole time. When she saw me sit down in the forest she must have turned and ran straight back to the party.

I couldn't be angry, the relief that she hadn't been eaten by a fox was overwhelming. At dinner, everyone told lost dog stories of their own. Of the panic, of the fear, and then the triumph when they were found. At the end of dinner, Pascal reminded me that Winry had made it home safely all by herself. I might be afraid for her to get lost, he explained, but she isn't afraid to be lost. She's an adventurer, but she knows how to make it back to home to the people who love her.

That night, when we finally got into bed, she fell asleep in my arms and I was thankful again she was safe. It's possible too that as she fell asleep she realized the fear and anxiety she caused that night, because she's been on her best behavior ever since.

Zach with Le Pipe

1:28 AM

The French Stock Exchange

8:20 AM

For Chopper: The Great Gangly Dog in the Sky

9:30 AM

Last night, I lost a member of my family. He was an anomaly of a dog and wasn't bashful in the least in letting you know it. I think that my own dog's short experience with him best shows who we all grew to love and will forever miss.

When Winry first entered the garage-entrance door of my parent's home, she was greeted with the usual frenzy that I had become accustomed to over the years. Winry, however, was not granted such a luxurious warning. She was first met with a rounder, louder and far more obnoxious version of herself. She didn't have much time to react to little Buddy before she had to deal with a boxer three times her size with a surplus of energy and bony legs that moved like a broken windmill. That and his head that consisted of a slack-jawed, snaggle-toothed smile was what elicited Winry to have the usual reaction that most people had when meeting Chopper for the first time: A lot of yelping and a sprint for low-bearing cover.

Over the next few hours, she cautiously avoided him until she started to realize that Buddy was very much the most diligent and rough little nugget to have as a playtime friend. A smaller dog was in no way a guarantee of a mild-mannered playtime. It was then that the friendship between Chopper and Winry began. He would bark at Buddy for playing too roughly in defense of the young new player in the living room arena. He would (not so sneakily) follow her from room to room like a watchful uncle who showed just the right amount of caregiving. He would share his already too small bed with her. He was now being the sweetheart of a dog that I'd always known.

To the untrained eye, one might say that he was needy or always craving the attention of whomever would give it to him but in that assumption you would be sorely mistaken. He was, and always had been, a giver. It's all he's ever known and he was a little too good at showing it; particularly when you found yourself with a dog that could barely fit in a recliner chair, suddenly sharing that recliner chair with you and looking around at everyone like he was merely snuggling up for the end of a long day.

By the end of Winry's two week stay with my family, it was clear that Chopper would be the one that she'd miss the most.

And she will not be alone in that feeling.

I'm going to tell stories about you until forever, Chopper.

Chip-Chop.

Chopstick.

Chopping Cart.

Fishing with Crumbs

2:16 PM

Tuesday brought us to a brand new host in the French countryside at a luxury hotel/bed and breakfast/collective/old flour mill/landscape painting. We don't always have a clear idea on what to expect when we arrive at a new hosts place and Moulin Bregeon was no different. In fact, since Jonathon, our host, contacted us, we kept forgetting the details of his listing. Maybe it was better that way, because we were totally blown away by what we found. Not only does Moulin Bregeon (called The Mill) pull in some high-end clients but it's completely faithful to its French roots thanks to Jonathan's keen eye for architecture and decor. Alongside the hotel property, he also owns a small village nearby that the collective crew has been working on renovating. People have come and gone here, but the head count is currently at seven, including us. We were delighted to find that two of the residents, Martin and Hannah, were around our age and Hannah was even from the US. We loved our privacy at previous hosts, but being around a large group has been a great new dynamic. Everyone has a story to tell!

Mainly we've been working in the village, so each morning we ride our pair of bikes into town while Winry runs alongside. We thought at first that she might not be able to go the distance, but she was actually pulling Zach like a sleddog on the first day. Work hours are modest and we generally do four hours, have a great lunch prepared by Pascal, and then bike back to The Mill for some afternoon reading and usually a walk.

But on one sleepy, sunny afternoon Martin found the fishing rod and decided to try and catch something. Hannah, Zach and I waited around for moral support, and Andreas also spent some time soaking up the sun and building his own contraption. We baited the hook with bread, which Martin swears by, but I think might not have captured the fishes interest. That or it was just too early in the season. Either way, we got to enjoy the scenery.

Until we catch something,

H W Z

Trains, Plains, And A Lack Of An Automobile

10:08 AM

Saturday was yet another day of traveling, but this time we were heading to Zach's friend Cassey's hotel instead of to a new host. We've had rainy days on every travel day so far, so maybe it was the difference in hosts that made the sun shine.

As is tradition, we went out for dinner and drinks the night before and had far too many laughs and drinks with our host Kerry. So our long day was started with a bit of a hangover at 7:32 am. But we found a way to get up and be ready for when Kerry picked us up at 8 am to make the 8:35 train at Beziers station. I had one last cuddle with Oscar in the car before we said our goodbyes (but promising to return!) and headed into the station. Something about our tickets made us special, so we were personally escorted onto the train where we had our ticket QR codes scanned (yeah, fancy!) and ushered to our seats to settle in for the four hour ride.

Train number one took us from Beziers into Paris, and once we were there we had our first challenge of the day: taking the Paris metro to a different train station across the city. But don't worry, not only had we planned our route ahead of time but when our orignal route was partially closed due to service, we used our New York skills to read the map and make a different connection to our destination. You'll have to do better to slow us down, Paris!

So our adventure down in the metro took us on train number two and three, and onwards to train number four from Paris to Le Mans. This train was only an hour long, but it seemed so quick compared to our morning train (5 hours) coupled with the fact that the train was speeding through the countryside. We encountered our first extremely grumpy french lady as she seemed to morally object to Winry riding the train with us. When she saw us get on and sit across from her, she quickly changed seats to the opposite aisle, then deciding that wasn't quite far enough retreated back to a seat at the end of the cabin. If you think this was coincidence, know that these trains have assigned seating so she wasn't technically allowed to move. I almost wanted the conductor to come by so I could hear her excuse, but as we've found with quite a few of our trains, no one came to check our tickets.

A short stop in Le Mans and we changed trains to bring our total to five. This train was barely a blip, but it gave Zach time to mull over my proposal: That we save money and hassle on a taxi and walk from Evron to our friend Cassey's hotel in Saint Suzanne. The towns are exactly 7.7 km away (5.2 miles for you keeping track at home), 1 hour and 36 minutes by walking according to Google, and connected by one straight, slightly hilly road, D7. If this sounds leisurely, remember we're carrying our 25-30 lb bags and walking with a dog. We arrived in Ervon and Zach turned to me, "Let's do it."

We stopped off at a park bench to sort our backpacks to make for the most comfortable carrying, clipped all sorts of buckles and tightened a variety of straps. And so we were off.

Things were a little tough at first. Zachs belt kept pinching his stomach hair and my backpack's belt was just about the same height as the waistband of my jeans so you can imagine the chafing. Plus Winry had a constant desire to walk in the middle of the road. But we didn't let it get us down. We adjusted our packs and walked on the side of oncoming traffic so we could pull Winry in when cars came rumbling by.

On our walk we had time to ponder the big questions: When Google determines how long it takes to walk somewhere, what speed would you have to walk to make that time? (Answer here) Do we walk faster than that? Or slower?

We met some goats.

Then scared them away.

And really we couldn't have been having too bad of a time, because here's what we looked like halfway.

Winry met cows, goats and sheep for the first time and was thoroughly confused by all three. She got into a certain growling match with a sheep that baah'd at her, but to be fair it could have said something about her mother. We'll never know.

And we learned the best thing about a straight road is that you can see your destination.

The road brought us straight to the hotel, though to be fair it could have brought us anywhere because Saint Suzanne is tiny. We dropped off our bags in front of the locked and unanswered hotel door and I stood guard as sentry while Zach circled the town to figure out where Cassey could be. Everything in the town was closed and people were walking en masse towards the church at the center, since it was Easter after all. Zach was walking back, defeated with his hands up in the universal "I don't know" sign when he happened to turn and spot Cassey sitting right in the lobby of the hotel! She popped out, hugged him, and ushered us over explaining that when she arrived the owners showed her the room, gave her the keys to the front door and left. A few jokes about Cassey now owning the hotel later and we set off to the castle ourselves, though the crowd had now dissipated.

We walked the perimeter of the place, vowed to come back when the doors to the center were open and went back for a well deserved shower and good night sleep.

Next time we get a taxi.