Monday, September 19 (continued)
Jumping back in time to the day Bridget passed and was laid to rest . . . .
After the goodbye to Bridget, Reggie and I return to our camp at Luna Lake.
I put Reggie on his tether outside with a bowl of water without letting him inside the Best Little Trailer. I go inside and remove all the bedding and place it in the back of the Perfect Tow Vehicle. We’re going to the laundromat.
Although Reggie’s canine sniffer can pick up the scent of Bridget from several sources that I can’t detect, I want to freshen up the comforter, quilt, and shams, make them smell of Tide detergent.
On the way out of the campground, I toss into the dumpster Bridget’s doggie bed and a few other items I can’t bear to see anymore.
One does what one can to get through the first days . . . .

The laundromat in Alpine is attached to the grocery store.
“C’mon, Reggie. You can come in with me while I do the wash.”
This first day is too soon for Reggie to be left alone in the PTV.
He’s thrilled to be allowed inside on a 4-foot leash. Immediately he makes friends with anyone coming in . . . a woman wearing camouflage who came to this area to bow-hunt for elk, and later a man wearing camouflage who is gun-hunting for elk.
While the man plays with a jumping Reggie at his feet, he tells me he’s camped at Hannagan Meadows Campground, a free campground in the White Mountains not far from Alpine.
The man confirms what I suspect.
At this time of year hunters use Hannagan Meadows as their base camp, which is why I chose Luna Lake Campground instead.
By the time Reggie and I return home, I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally. My feet feel like lead as I bring the bedding inside and make up the bed.
Reggie eats some kibble and together we curl up under the covers for a long nap.
After supper Reggie and I walk the long path out of our campsite down to the lake.
I want to keep Reggie active and occupied as much as I’m able during these first days without Bridget. He’s excited to explore the rocks. It smells like lake water here, rather than the pine scent at camp. The weather has been wonderful our entire stay at Luna Lake, although lows in the 30s are predicted for later in the week.
For a little guy, Reggie’s tough.
His baby fat disappeared soon after he became a crew member a year-and-a-half ago. He’s all muscle! Well, except for those velvety ears . . . .
Standing near placid water is a comfort as this day comes to a close.
I’m sure Reggie senses my sadness and feels loss in his own way. He sets a good example for me — No moping!
Life goes on!
“We’d better head back, Reg. It’ll be dark soon.”
My little one-man crew . . . .
Tuesday, September 20
Lots of walking. Around the campground. Down a road through the forest. Over to the group campground which is closed for the season.
Whoever designed Luna Lake Campground did so with intelligence, keen aesthetic sense, and an abundant appreciation for nature. It’s a spacious, beautiful place to camp.

Reggie is loving all this exploring, of course. He’s impatient with me when I force him to stop for a photo.

I’m not sure, but I think when he turns his ears outward he’s saying, “Get on with it, woman! There’s stuff I want to do!”
Wednesday, September 21
More walking. I wash a basin of dishes. Clean out the fridge and make its interior sparkle.
Go to the Alpine library and print out a South Dakota voter registration form to mail in. I think once I do that I can vote in the general election online. I have to check that . . . .
Take a leisurely drive toward Luna, across the border into New Mexico. Come home, fill up jugs with water. Take a nap. Start packing stuff for moving camp tomorrow (Thursday, the 22nd). Walk some more.
Remember when I made the wrong turn?
The crew and I ended up at Red Rock Campground in Gallup and from there we came to Lake Lyman State Park followed by Luna Lake. To this day I don’t know how that happened because all I had to do was stay on the same road going west into Arizona, yet I managed to turn south.
I’m glad we came here.
Those last days with Bridget, outdoors, under the pine boughs, were lovely, though bittersweet. And I feel good that she’s buried by the pines near this lake, as good as one can feel about such a thing, I guess.
Again I thank you . . . .
Hundreds of condolences over Bridget’s passing . . . incredible! Bridget touched so many people who, in turn, reached out to Reggie and me in sympathy. I think I’ve opened up my blog over twenty times each day since she passed in order to read your words, over and over again. It’s especially nice to see comments from blogorinos absent for a long time and also from new people. Welcome!
Thank you, everyone, for helping me through this time. I’m sorry for your tears, those shed for Bridget and those that fell for your own losses over the years.
I hope Reggie and I will bring you smiles and laughter after a while.
rvsue
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