A Pet Project
April 30, 2026 by Dianna Sinovic in category Quill and Moss by Dianna Sinovic, Writing tagged as cabin, Road Trip, short fiction
Sixty miles into the drive, Jill had second thoughts about the wisdom of bringing her animals with her. The cat, sequestered in her carrying case on the front seat, kept up a steady mewling. Except when the beagle in the back seat got too near, which set off a yowl. That prompted a barking response, joined by the woof of the English setter in the rear compartment.
Jill turned up the volume on her playlist, trying to drown out the cacophony, but then worried she wouldn’t hear the mysterious clunking sounds that had started from the back end of the car about fifteen miles ago.
It wasn’t that she was foolhardy. She’d considered asking a friend to accompany her on the trip, either to drive or help manage the menagerie, but no one was available—or they were conveniently busy when she offered the ride.
“I’ll pay for your train ticket back home,” she said, but got no takers.
Now her destination in upstate New York, a rental cottage on a lake, seemed far, far away. Just under three hundred miles left and way too many pit stops to go.
Kenneling was not an option for the month she planned to be away writing—or trying to write. And when she located the rental (pets allowed for a small upcharge), bringing the critters was an easy decision.
“Petey, pipe down,” she said to the beagle. He snuffled the cat’s case, poking his head between the front seats to get at Tux, and then baying. “You, too, Chips.” She glanced in the rearview mirror to check on the setter, who couldn’t access the back seat (and cause even more chaos) because of the cargo net. “The next rest stop is in sixteen miles. Hang in there.”
The minutes and hours slipped past, and Jill felt pulled between the poles of her endpoints, home and rental. Then Petey stuck his nose in her ear and licked it.
“Gah!” she sputtered.
At a rest stop, she pulled up near its tiny dog park and gave Petey and Chips the run of it. As she was corralling them back into the SUV, Chips pulled the leash from her hand and eagerly headed toward a family of four making their way to the rest stop building.
“Chips,” Jill called, quickly shutting the side door to keep Petey in place. “Come here, boy!” She hurried after the setter. He could charm a rock into giving him a pat.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, short of breath, when she reached the family and grabbed the leash.
The two young children huddled behind the parents, peeking at the dog, who pranced near them. In the distance, Petey’s bark told Jill he was equally interested in the situation.
“No harm done,” said the woman, although she was frowning. “But you really should keep better hold of that dog.” The parents turned their backs on Jill and pushed the children ahead of them.
Jill narrowed her eyes. As if I wasn’t doing my best.
Back in the SUV, she gassed up and continued north, the sun already past high noon. Three more pit stops—but no more leash mishaps—and she finally exited the interstate, turning onto the winding roads leading to the rental.
Her mood darkened as the GPS route inched forward. Why had she thought this would work? Between walking the dogs and refereeing the guaranteed skirmishes between the canids and the cat, she would have little time to concentrate, let alone be creative.
The long, unpaved driveway to the rental led through thick stands of oak, maple and birch, until a final turn revealed the lake. The sudden quiet when she switched off the engine stopped the dogs from whining, and even Tux fell silent.
No other houses interrupted the scenery. She heard only the scolding of chickadees and the lap of water against the lakeshore. Out of the car, she breathed in the scent of pine and spruce.
Immersed in the serenity of the setting, Jill saw the dogs curled up beside her on the floor of the cabin, while she tapped at her keyboard, the cat tucked away in her own hidey hole. Thirty days of freedom. She was ready.
More of Dianna’s Stories
Isabel Swift wonders…do you make lists?
March 24, 2010 by A Slice of Orange in category Archives tagged as Deep South, Lists, Road Trip, TravelWell, in addition to “To Buy” lists or the more mundane “To Do” lists?
Years ago I created another kind of list & recently revived it. The summer after high school graduation, a girlfriend & I decided to travel and settled on hitchhiking around England for a month. In addition to planning our itinerary, we also developed The List (as it applied to the UK).
It contained things that we felt were quintessentially of the place, and enumerated things we wanted to have experienced before the holiday was over. The list “ingredients” didn’t have to be difficult to achieve; that wasn’t the issue. It was meant to measure what we felt was a true and full experience of a new environment.
I can’t remember the exact elements for the UK List, but it was things like:
1) eat fish & chips
2) see Buckingham Palace & the changing of the guards
3) drive in a London taxi cab
4) see someone in a kilt
5) visit a castle
6) see Shakespeare at Stratford-on-Avon
7) buy an umbrella
8) drive in a Rolls Royce
9) go to Hyde Park
10) be invited to tea…
You get the picture. We would argue and add things to the list as their quintessential-ness was discovered and determined.
Recently I went on a road trip with the same friend some 35+ years later. She lives in Alabama, so we went on a trip around the area. I found myself creating a list–it sort of was made as it happened instead of beforehand. But we argued through the essentialness of the ingredients, and I think we pulled together a good collection. I realize it is a girl list. You boys will just have to work on your own. Here it is:
The Deep South List:
1) Receive an Unsolicited Greeting
(i.e. hello) My friend didn’t think this should count as a key indicator of Southern-ness. I really had to explain that NO-ONE in New York would say hello to a stranger walking down the street–you’d think they were pan-handling.
2) Courtly Solicitation
#1 was men & women; this is just for women–Male interactions with females are often touched with a decorous flirtation, a sense of ‘Southern Charm,’ an awareness and appreciation of your femaleness, e.g. ‘I always stop for pretty girls,’ or have door held for you..
3) Bitten by Ants
Apparently, this is standard. I can vouch for it happening.
4) Drive on a dirt road; visit a farm/meet a farmer; wait for Cows to clear the road
The South has its share of cities and industry, but rural South seemed quintessentially Southern, not found elsewhere, and needed to be experienced. I didn’t get a photo of him, but our farmer was driving a tractor…not unlike the one pictured on the billboard below…
5) Roadside Attractions
One of the carved living tree in Tinglewood, ALA and Bourbon St. New Orleans, LA
6) Breakfast with Good Ole Boys, eat Grits with Unidentified butterlike substance
OK, he’s not a Good Ole Boy, he’s the god of the forge, Vulcan, who presides over Birmingham, ALA. Magnificent, isn’t he? And I know you’re distracted, but really, there’s no butter in the South. My grits came with a pat proudly announcing it was 40% margarine. It never told me what the other 60% was and I was too scared to ask….
7) Tea: Sweet/Unsweet
Well, I may have to make an exception for New Orleans, where it was hard to find anyone who’d give me sweet tea–it was all DIY. You do have to specify “Hot tea” if that’s your preference, as tea = ice tea.
8) Being asked where you come from
Yes, this would also be on a California list–but it’s just not Northeast in my experience & always startles me & reminds me I am somewhere away from home. In some parts of the South, I am sure you are asked where you are going–i.e. which grave yard will you be joining–to better understand your status. Location, location, location.
9) y’all
10) Cotton fields
Well, I hadn’t thought of posting while I was traveling, so didn’t take appropriate photos, just captured a few things that appealed. Here’s a a rather remarkable ironwork cornstalk fence in New Orleans.
11) Church signage with admonishions, instructions, information about Jesus
I regret not having photographed some of the Church signage: you have to see it to get it. Here’s one man’s front yard sculpture–it captures some of the spirit.
And here we are with our trusty black bug at the end of the trip. Think of the photo as modern art, creating a sense of immediacy and motion (and covering any bad hair or poor clothing choices).
Since we created out list as we went, we were sure to accomplish every one.
Do you make lists?
Isabel Swift
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