Day Fifty-One: Russellville - Little Rock

Remember that puppy I just couldn’t live without (see yesterday’s post)? Yeah, well, today revolved around him. Slater and I packed up our bags in the office, strapped them to our bikes, and headed out the door. We ran into Richard on the way out, who wished us luck once more and made sure that we had a comfortable stay (any stay is comfortable these days, so long as it’s inside). It was only somewhat awkward, since I’m pretty sure he was showing a client around the office building while two haggard bikers were just waking up… oops. But anyways, it was the 57th anniversary of IHOP, and we were fully aware of the fact that there were 57-cent short stacks up for grabs, so we rode three miles to an IHOP in Russelville. Meanwhile, I gave Slater pitiful looks over and over while I talked about how that puppy needed a home, even though there was no need to do that, because he is even more of a sucker for puppies than I am.

But then, something miraculous happened: my sister gave me the go-ahead. We had been texting back and forth ever since I sent her the photo of the pup, and she instantly fell in love with him. If I brought him to her, she said hesitantly, she’d keep him. If any of you know my sister, you know that she has a roundabout way of saying these things; you know, like “Well, I’m not going to say yes, but if you brought him to me, I’d be really happy.” Or, “Lately I’ve been dying to get a puppy and now I feel like I should. But I can’t, it’s in my lease. But I’m gonna be really sad if you leave him—and he needs a home!” So, basically, the most confusing answers ever. To top it off, she was about to catch a flight back to the U.S. from South America, so she was clearly extremely overwhelmed when I gave her a “take it or leave it” ultimatum just before she boarded her plane, and she responded with a wishy-washy response that leaned more toward the side of “take it”… so I did.

Now that we finally had an answer, it was time to develop a game plan—because how the hell were we going to get this dog to Katie? She told us she would meet up with us in Memphis, which was just a couple days’ ride away, but that was the furthest she could drive on such short notice after coming back from South America. After weighing our options, we decided that renting a car would be the simplest way of going about things, so we rode a few miles back down the road to Enterprise Rent-A-Car. We’re under the age of 25, which means that we had very few options that were only small cars and sedans. That would work, though, we speculated, so long as we took the wheels off of our bikes and packed in tight. But then we ran into another stumbling block: Slater had his driver’s license, but not a credit card, as he dealt with credit card fraud before we left for our trip; and I had a credit card, but not a driver’s license, as I misplaced it just before the trip. The payment card and the license had to match, they said, and the card had to be swiped on-site, and there was no way around that. We attempted just about every method of bending the rules that we could think of, and the store clerk even tried to help us out as well, but there was no budging… so off we rode to a U-Haul distributor.

We had originally eliminated U-Haul as an option, since it seemed ridiculous and overpriced to drive a 10 or 20-foot truck with only two bikes inside of it, but we were left with no other options. The process of renting the truck was simple, yet it somehow managed to take almost two hours. A young woman just a few years older than me sat in front of us at a small desk, clicking and typing away unsuccessfully due to a poor internet connection, and we made small talk while rain spattered against the window panes and her newborn baby snoozed peacefully in his cradle on the floor. Meanwhile, our truck was being transferred from another location, and the driver must have stopped to pick dandelions on the side of the road for at least an hour, because the transfer was only three miles away. Despite all that, we did come away from the experience with a fully functioning U-Haul, so we threw our bikes in the back and tore out of the driveway (okay, not really, that boat of a truck couldn’t “tear” if it tried) in search of our dream puppy.

We backtracked nearly 30 miles, retracing our pedals to the house where we found the litter of fur balls. The family was lounging outside, having just returned from work and veterinary appointments, and they were ecstatic to see our faces, understanding that the only reason for our return was to snag the puppy we had fallen in love with the day before. We tromped through the sodden grass to the cramped puppy pen at the east side of the property, and one of the young boys stepped through the gate and lifted our chubby little pup from the stack. He was just as adorable as I had remembered; I just wanted to squeeze him and snuggle with his cuddly little puppy face! The property owner expressed her gratitude and explained that they were unsure of what to do with the rest, as they couldn’t find any potential homes and the shelter had limited space. The family bid us adieu with a wave and a smile as we headed back up the driveway and into the U-Haul with our new family member, Tío (it’s a Spanish slang term for “buddy”—or anything along those lines).

Our next stop was Little Rock, and we were extremely lucky to have a place to stay in the big city. Earlier in the morning, we texted a couple that we found on WarmShowers, and they were quick to respond with an absolute yes, we were welcome to spend a night in their home. But with the new puppy and, oh yeah, a U-Haul, we figured we’d have to fend for ourselves; but Mac and Amelia, the young, carefree duo, had no problem with our new additions—so long as Tío was willing to play with their dachshunds.

So, long story short, we showed up at an unfamiliar house as complete strangers, parked our U-Haul on the curb, perched a tiny puppy atop their manicured lawn, and made ourselves at home on the grass until Amelia, one of our hosts, realized that we were not creepy intruders, but rather, the people who were “biking across America”—in quotations because the U-Haul was really cramping our style. She had secretly called her husband, Mac, while she peeked out the window, just to make sure that we were the visitors they were expecting. She walked out of the front door and welcomed us into the house, opening the garage for our bikes and pointing us in the direction of a better place to park the U-Haul, just across the street at a vacant house’s driveway.

Mac came home just minutes later, and we were able to get to know the entire family over a mouthwatering taco feast. Amelia’s personality was bubbly and inviting; she had a fresh outlook on the world that showed her energetic spirit and matched perfectly with that of her husband, Mac, whose fun-loving attitude shined through in his stories of running with the bulls in Pamplona and spending many a night at the clubs in Spain. We were beyond overjoyed to spend time with a young couple with whom we had so much in common, from studying abroad in Spain to cross-country bike tours to dog obsessions, and we loved every minute of it. Not to mention, we spent countless hours goo-goo-ga-ga’ing over Tío, who spent hours cuddling in our laps and snoozing away (it was a long day for him). We let Tío have his first play date with the dachshunds, Ginny and Percy (yes, that is a Harry Potter reference), and by the end of the night, he was zonked out—and so were we—and Slater, Tío, and I fell asleep in the cozy guest bedroom, and agreed on spending one more day in Little Rock—because we had too much fun.