Miles: Journey Home

It was the middle of August, hot and stuffy. We left in the early hours of the morning, two a.m. to be exact. The roads were dark and quiet, something I was not used to seeing as I was usually sound asleep in my bed.

The highway was nearly desolate, with only a few trailer trucks heading in the opposite direction. I remember being in awe as we passed through New York City while it was still dark out; the lights of the city were beautiful.

I sat bored and tired in the passenger seat of the car, watching the night turn into day. We had something to look forward to; in just a few days we would be making the same trip back home, only this time with a puppy in tow.

We stopped in Virginia, our half-way point. We would be there for the night, and then the next morning, right back on the road to our destination. We set an alarm for seven and proceeded to get some well-deserved rest.

When we arrived in Georgia, we spent two full days lounging around the hotel room and checking out the scenery. Finally, the day came where we would pick up our little bundle of joy and start the journey back home.

The puppy was an all black German Shepherd, and he was wearing a blue Velcro collar so that the breeder was able to tell them apart. The man spoke highly of the puppy, saying that he had quite the personality and had always wandered from the litter to do his own thing. We watched him roll around in the grass, happy as could be. I loved him right away.

He came with the name Dominic.

We stopped at a gas station to fuel up, and so I could change my clothes since Dominic had already used my lap as a bathroom. Once we were back on the open road, we got into the discussion about changing Dom's name. We came up with a few suggestions, until suddenly the perfect name hit me.

"How about Miles? For all the miles we drove to get him,"

It was set; his name was Miles.

Suddenly, something was wrong. The car would no longer accelerate, and we were quickly losing speed on a busy highway. We were able to make it to the nearest exit and broke down on the side of the road. The car refused to start, leaving us stranded.

We called my father for help, although a couple thousand miles between us made it all the more difficult. Finally, the car started up and we slowly limped our way towards our half-way point once more.

On the car's second breakdown, we made it to a gas station where we were able to purchase a coolant that we hoped would do the trick. Maybe the car was just overheating? I sat in the passenger seat with Miles as it slowly got hotter and hotter, even with the door wide open. He began to pant and cry and he was hot to the touch. As I waited for the car to roar back to life, I sat with Miles on my lap with an ice pack secured underneath him while he ate fast-melting ice cubes from the palm of my hand.

I don't think I'll ever forget the stress I felt in that moment.

We were back on the road when it came time for Miles's next meal, but we only had the one bowl which was still occupied with water. No problem, I would just open up the window and dump it out. However, it was a problem. No sooner had I stuck the bowl out the window when the wind whisked it away, sending it somewhere along the side of the highway.

First car trouble, and now Miles had to eat his dinner out of a measuring cup. What could possibly go wrong next?

Only a few minutes from our hotel, the car began to slow once again and broke down in a nearby parking lot. I believe something was watching out for us that day, because just then a young woman pulled up in her car asking us if we needed help. Even better yet, she explained to us that she worked for an auto repair shop. She got us back up and running within an hour, but only just enough to make it to the hotel.

The following day, we spent five hours sitting in the waiting room of the nearest car dealership, hoping to hear that we would be on the road back home by morning. Miles sat in his crate on the floor between us, munching on a snack given to him by a kind sales associate.

Finally, the manager approached us. "So, the good news is that there's only something wrong with the transmission. Everything else looks great. The bad news is that we're going to have to take the transmission apart and then rebuild it. That's likely going to take a few days."

What was supposed to be a four or five day trip suddenly turned into a week.

We spent the next few days stuck in the hotel room, unable to go anywhere since we had a puppy and no car. We made the most of it, watching movies, ordering food and bonding with Miles.

We made it home on a Thursday night, with quite a wild story to tell. Even with all the stress we went through, I am incredibly grateful for the experiences and the wonderful people we met along the way.

We even have something to remember it by: his name is Miles.