Ginger and Pete were growing fast and needed more exercise than what they were getting from our periodic stops. “So, what’s in Marin County?” Jillian asked.

  “Marin County is where it all started here in the states.” I said.

  “What started?” Jillian asked.

  “Mountain Biking.” I said as we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and I explained what I understood as American mountain biking history. A bird flew by; “Holy Shit! Did you see that?” I said excited. Jillian was looking down at a road map and the dogs did not know how to react.

  “It was a bird! A fucking bird!” I said looking at her.

  “Okay, okay, I believe you!” Jillian said laughing at my excitement.

  “There it is again!” I said pointing. Sure enough, a bird swooped down near the R/V and Ginger and Pete started barking. We stopped the R/V and got out. We looked in the sky for about fifteen minutes and the bird did not return. “Damn!” I said with my camera ready.

  We stopped and picked up brochures, trail maps and selected two bikes and safety gear. Ginger and Pete had no idea what was going on. Only, I was excited and the prospect of adventure. Jillian was passive, she understood the importance of exercise and the dogs were driving her crazy. I packed the dog’s backpacks with bike tools, small tire pump, tubes, food and water. We got to the trail head and Jillian said “That way.” Pointing as she folded the map.

  I took off on my bike and Ginger and Pete looked at me as I turned back to see their reaction. I whistled and yelled “Come!” The dogs tore off leaving Jillian in a cloud of dust as she clicked through the gears. They gained on me quickly as I slowed down for Jillian to catch up. Ginger and Pete barked at me as I waited at a bridge.

  “Just go, I’ll catch up!” yelled Jillian as she approached.

  “We do this together.” I said. Ginger and Pete stayed right behind me as we went through the trails at a pace more suited for quadrupeds. Jillian was no slouch; she was young and in good physical shape. We stopped after a very long and hard climb and rested with water and snacks. I took a few pictures. Ginger and Pete were in doggy heaven.

  “Do you smell smoke?” Jillian asked. I turned facing the wind. Ginger and Pete watched me smell the air and they joined in.

  “Maybe a little.” I said looking around the valley below. “Well, if something is burning, we might not want to know what it is.” I said. We took pictures, and looked around at the desolate scenic beauty.

  “We have about two miles, all downhill that way, or seven miles that way.” Jillian said pointing looking at the map.

  “Ginger, Pete, Downhill?” I asked them. They looked at me like two happy dogs.

  “We really should be heading back.” Jillian said looking at her wristwatch.

  “You go first.” I said to Jillian. Ginger and Pete stayed behind us, sometimes having a hard time keeping up as we descended.

  We got back to the R/V showered and found a nice ocean view location for the night. We had dinner and watched the sunset with a bottle of very expensive California wine. Jillian interrupted the eerie silence.

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  “Today is the first day I have ever seen you smile so much. Most of the time you’re real serious and focused on fixing things or reading.”

  “I did have fun today. I actually felt like I have a family.” I said without thinking.

  “You DO have a family; our children just happen to have four legs each.” Jillian said as a matter of fact. I laughed. “Our children! You know there is about twenty years between us. A lot of people would consider that… an issue.” I said.

  “It’s just numbers and math, besides, there is no longer a lot of people, and as far as numbers and mathematics; forty-one CAN go into twenty-two.” Jillian said staring directly into my eyes. I did not reply.

  We drove north on the P.S.H. We were well supplied and the drone was proving useful in finding solar panels that usually yielded some good results if they were operational. Small amounts of frozen bacon, beef, pork, chicken in chest freezers. These were typically in middle to upper class developments. The urban areas were just war zones and void of any possible resources and difficult to navigate through the streets.

  Jillian’s orienteering and navigating skills were as impressive as her medicinal skills. She had a calendar for all of us. Checkups, vaccinations for the dogs, she even had a separate mini fridge for blood in case of emergency. Bordering on O.C.D. Her skills as a marksman were improving; she liked small sidearms but the AA-12 was just too much firepower. She liked archery the best and had deadly precision with a crossbow.

  It has been almost one year as we drove through Canada. It was really beautiful; insect populations seem to be increasing as well as birds.

  One day biking around a lake, Ginger and Pete caught a scent. They barked once and took off across a field. We stopped and followed them on foot. It was difficult to see them in the tall grass and scrub. When we caught up with them, they caught a young squirrel and killed it. Ginger and Pete were so proud of what they had done, tails wagging and happy.

  “Ginger, Pete! NO! Bad dogs!” I said really pissed off. They cowered and dropped their heads confused.

  “Oh no.” Jillian said quietly. They both sensed Jillian’s emotion as well. Lifeless with a broken neck, the tiny squirrel image burned into my brain. We exited the field, got on our bikes and returned to the R/V in silence. Ginger and Pete jogging behind us with tails between their legs and heads hung low. Ginger and Pete were almost full grown. The tiny squirrel probably died from a heart attack seeing them in pursuit, I told myself. I sat on the ground near the R/V and held Ginger and Pete. They were reluctant at first but soon could not resist the temptation to return affection.

  “It’s in their DNA.” Jillian said, sitting next to me on the ground with the dogs. “Squirrels: The mortal enemy of all dogs. Why, I do not know.” Jillian said quietly as Ginger licked her face.

  “I know I probably over reacted.” I said. In typical canine fashion all was back to normal in five seconds. After dinner we plotted our course, Jillian really wanted to see her parents’ house one last time.

  “You might not like what you find.” I said. Jillian closed her eyes and sighed.

  “I know, but I still want to go.” She said.

  “What about your house?” Jillian asked me.

  “It is an empty shell. There is nothing there for me.” I said.

  We sat outside for about a half hour. Jillian stood up. “I have to study canine dentistry; I see some plaque buildup and from what I have read it could lead to something serious.”

  “I’ll be in, in a minute.” I said looking at nothing. I sat in the chair for two hours thinking, reflecting, assessing and asking myself why does everything need an explanation. That was then, this is now. There is no going back, only forward and doing what is right. Making the best decisions I can, for everyone, not just me.

  I went into the R/V and Jillian was sleeping on the couch, dogs sleeping in their beds. As I went to close her laptop it switched to a picture slideshow in screensaver mode. I watched, laughed and cried. I had no idea Jillian took so many pictures. After the sixth or seventh rotation I closed the lid. After drying my tears, I was startled to see Jillian watching me.

  “You try to hide it, but YOU are a softy.” Jillian said drying her tears. I picked her up from the couch and carried her to the bedroom. The only thing she said was, “It’s about time.”