We lived in Millburn, NJ for 3 years as Spike was getting on in years. We moved to New Jersey sight-unseen too (see Amsterdam post) and contrary to popular belief it is not the ugliest, most crime-ridden, arm-pit of the country state to live in. Although our Jeep was stolen from in front of our house twice.
It was a happy time in a pretty area where we experienced all four seasons and the hospitality of a sophisticated and caring community.
We took Spike to the New Jersey shore from time to time, mostly off-season when we didn’t have to fight crowds and traffic.
One of our favorite places to walk was the South Mountain Reservation that highlighted all the beauty of the seasons of the Garden State.
We traveled with him into the Pocono’s, across the Deleware Gap into PA, one freezing Presidents Day weekend. Twenty degrees below and a house with no central heat and only a solitary gas heater to heat the whole place. Thank goodness for Spike’s sweater – over a decade old at the time, as was he.
Thoughts and Things
Nothing beats a dog sweater hand-knitted with love. I don’t know who made Spike’s back in the day but I still have it packed away with his things, as I write 12 years after his death.
