Northern California Muse

I was driving along the Coast on my way home near Mendocino. It was sunny and the sky and ocean were so blue. The weather was perfect; maybe a little warm for us coastal people - 85 degrees. I saw the steam rising from the hood; I checked the gauge and dove for the side of the road. Fortunately, there was a wide pull off; unusual on our rural roads.

I looked inside the cramped engine compartment and decided it was a hose problem; but not something silver tape could fix, unless I used the silver tape to make an entirely new hose. By now, the interior of the car was heating up quickly, so I pulled my big dog out and locked up the car. We decided to make the 3 mile walk; it was a beautiful day and my dog was enthused.

We had ventured 10 feet, when a red pickup made a u-turn across the road and pulled up beside us. “Do you need a ride? I was going up to Rossi’s, but it looks like you need a ride.” I thanked him, but explained I wanted to go south to Mendocino and that was the wrong direction. He explained he lived in Point Arena and “what’s a few more miles anyway.”

So my 110 pound dog and I hitched ourselves up into his truck and off we went to our local gas station. We barely fit; his bench seat was filled with elbows, curves and other plumbing supplies. Within minutes, we had arrived and he waved as he headed back north to Fort Bragg.

After some discussion on the model of my Mustang and the shape of the hose (past-tense), we were ready to go back to the car. It had to be towed; it would be to hard to fix on the road. Problem- no dogs allowed in the Tow Truck and they insisted that I watch them hitch up my car to the truck. Before I could think of where to park my dog; some man getting gas told me he would take my dog and I up the road and bring us back. He liked dogs. So my dog and I hitched ourselves back in another truck and off we went. This ride was a little more difficult, because the bench seat was filled with MacDonald’s wrappers. My dog is fairly polite, but just try to keep his nose out of a MacDonald’s wrapper. The man was understanding and scooped the wrappers apologetically to the floor. Now I had 110 pound dog sitting on the bench seat with his nose on the floor; but we carried on. Soon the car was towed and we road back to Mendocino with dog’s nose still investigating the wrappers on the floor. We all pushed the car into the garage and within minutes I was back on the road going home.

Only in a small town……………………