Dawson has many admirable traits, and one of them is his ability to roll with the punches. When we hauled out his jumbo size kennel in January to acclimatize him for his journey from Australia back to North America he just trusted our judgment, went inside and never complained. But then again – he had no choice.... Hence his nickname “No Choice Dawson.”
While we were in New Zealand he spent 3 weeks on a farm in Denmark – 5 ½ hours SE of Perth. Apparently he reveled in the many joys of living on the farm – including helping himself to cow poo and 'roo poo. (Why do dogs have to do gross things?) He also helped himself to vineyard grapes – whatever variety fell his way. And he dug up the marrin shells (marrin are Aussie lobsters.) Hence his nickname “Hoover” was rebranded to “Dyson” (a brand of vacuum cleaners in Australia.)
He had a grueling 50 plus hours for his journey back to the northern hemisphere. When his limo came to pick him up to take him to the Perth airport he just got into his crate, wagged his tail, then lay down.
He then took a 4 hour Red Eye flight to Sydney Once there he had 9 hours for meetings with AQIS (Australia Quarantine Inspection Services) and an official vet to give him the once over. Knowing Dawson he probably took in some sights and squeezed in a massage or two.
He then had a flight to LA followed by meetings with US officials and another massage disguised as a check-up. He had about 14 hours to kill in LA and who knows what the little guy got up to. Knowing him he probably charmed someone into fussing with him and scammed some tasty morsels.
Then he had another Red Eye from LA to Houston. Once there his limo took him to the Hotel Lyon, located in The Park at Memorial Heights.
After all his pampering and canoodling I am sure he'll have second thoughts about coming home to John and I again......
But, “No Choice Dawson” will have no choice.
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