Around this time last night I received a PM from Rita Romines (President of Bark Plaza Pet Hotel and Tastc Shelter) that her husband, Glenn Romines wanted to meet me. She said he'd be here (at McDonald's) in two minutes.
He arrived and told me to throw my stuff in the back of his red Ford pickup. I complied, and he spirited me off to Spring Garden a Chinese restaurant he rents out at 1030 South Sam Houston Boulevard, here in Houston.
He insisted that I try the Walnut Shrimp. They made up an order and brought it out while we talked. It was sweet and delicious. Good recommendation if you're ever in the area.
Glenn told me that he is a local business owner (please see his Ford and Lincoln Dealership link below), and has lived here for nearly his entire life. I would discover that he is actually is a very prominent member of the town, contributing to dozens of projects and participating in countless events. As I would watch him hauling out his flip phone over the duration of the evening it became apparent that he knew how to get things done. "No" was an answer he joyfully, yet firmly, wouldn't accept from people.
I told him about how my journey began, where I had been and what it was turning into. As with most people whom I share this story with personally, he had to think a bit about what I was saying.
I still don't have a set-explanation. I've tweaked it and changed it to fit the evolving circumstances in the last couple of months. Most people have the same exact reaction to my lifestyle while out here on the road...
They can't seem to wrap their minds around the idea that I mostly sleep outside "in THIS weather!" They nearly always say, "you aren't sleeping outside TONIGHT are you? It is WAY too cold!" I typically remind them that I'm from *Maine* where we had four feet of snow on the ground last winter and the temps would drop to as low as -22 below 0 F. They think for a moment and then slowly nod, still not convinced about my penchant for sleeping on roadsides.
They tell me that I'm crazy. I have heard that at least 653 times. wink emoticon Then they ask about the walking. "Walking from Maine to where? California??" I usually let them know that I haven't walked the whole way. I tell them about the states I have *mostly* walked through, etc., and that I've taken some fairly substantial train rides on Amtrak. I think the fact that I've made it this far (nearly 1,200 miles) says to Missourians (at least) that somehow I may have found a system that works for me.
Then comes the "Why don't you hitchhike? Why don't you ride a bike? Why didn't you leave in the spring rather than the fall? Why don't you set things up with friends ahead of time? Why, why, why?" On and on...
Glenn probably had a similar thought process about it all, but instead of doing what I expected, he calmly listened and smiled, occasionally raising his eyebrows, but not overreacting at all. This was nice. He has teased me a bit since we've gotten to know each other better, but he seems to have gotten the concept more readily than most folks.
After we got all of that out of the way, he just said - plainly and authoritatively - one thing: "Well, you're not gonna sleep outside in Houston, Missouri."
That was pretty much it. I knew that he wouldn't be swayed from this position. So, I bit my tongue and accepted what would be a very generous and warm night inside, courtesy of him and his very dear wife.
Glenn is a very sharp guy. I could tell he'd already worked out in his head what we were going to do that night, before he even hinted at a plan. Right before we left he said, "I'm gonna show ya some things tonight that I think you're gonna find pretty interesting."
We finished up eating, he paid for the meal, said goodbye to some of the other patrons and we went back out to his truck, got in and buckled up. We headed back to his house to talk with Rita before starting out on the Houston tour. We approached his property via Route 17. On both sides of the long, well-lit driveway were large tracts of lawn. This land had been in his family for many years and we passed his sister's house before driving through two stone columns and on to his yard proper.
Rita came out to meet us and I got to see this kind woman who was working so tirelessly, even tenaciously, to get the dog that I found off to a place where he could receive the proper medical attention that he needed. Glenn explained to her that we were going to take a little tour of Houston and that we'd be back before too long.
We turned around and began driving back out through the gate and he pointed out where his large pond was. Riding with him down to it, I saw an expansive body of water about the size of two football fields, and according to Glenn, filled with thousands of fish. There was a tidy gazebo that he'd had built and many tables and chairs on the grass around it. It was an area he frequently held parties for the town at. One of these gala events was for the 4th of July, when he had several kegs of beer, two pigs roasting and even fireworks.
Knowing we had a lot of ground yet to cover, he turned around again and drove back up the steep hill to the driveway. He pointed out places where deer would come through, and then we saw several walk by. At the end of the driveway we got back on the main road, but headed deeper into the center of town.
His pride in the town was palpable and I could see as we ventured on that the town's improvement and growth were his passions. He showed me a space that had once been a run down area, but was now a nice grassy park. We turned around a bend and he described that the town had once been burned to the ground - every structure included, except one - when the Union and Confederate soldiers were camped there and had skirmishes, back in 1864. Apparently both sides had been responsible for the fire.
Houston was a major stopping place during the American Civil War because the conjunction of several rivers made it ideal for setting up camp. He told me that one single house survived the blaze and that he would bring me out to where it still stood. Along the way we passed church after church, denomination after denomination. We saw the new local jail building; an impressive structure with elevators and a very clean look about it, as judged from the outside.
We passed the schools, fire station, a bank his uncle had founded, an old style movie theater and many other buildings that he knew the complete history of. In fact, there was not a single structure that I recall seeing that he did not know the story behind. His own influence was deeply embedded in much of what we passed.
We reached the part of town where the historic and lone house that survived that awful fire stood. It was down a somewhat dark road and separated from the major part of the downtown area. When we got to it I saw a medium sized stucco faced house that hadn't been changed all that much since the days of the Civil War. he said there were still bullet holes throughout it from that time.
Turning around again and driving back down toward the edge of town, he pointed out his Methodist church and slowed as we past and he explained that his mother had designed the large stained glass windows at either end. The next day he showed me them in the daylight and they were very impressive. They had installed them in reverse by accident (back in front and front in back), but because of this the sunlight would project a brilliant cross image into the sanctuary.
Speeding up again a bit we past his mother's house, a large, white four-column mansion style structure (I believe it was at 312 King Street?). Then shortly after we past another large Victorian mansion, with a very interesting architectural feature that made the central tower face diagonally across the front of the house.
Heading further on we went by the local airport which was extensive enough to land a very large plane. I would learn that Glenn was a pilot once and used to both hunt and even fly from place to place to sell cars, which he became exceedingly good at, having done it now for over 50 years!
The night was pressing on and we had visited many of the sites that a traveler like myself would never have gotten to see or hear the descriptions and histories of if he/she had not met such a knowledgeable and involved resident. This kept making me feel thankful again and again for how things just seemed to work out so fortuitously.
On the way back to the house we stopped by Rita's labor of love, The Animal Shelter of Texas County (TASTC) and Bark Plaza Pet Hotel. * [Please see note at the bottom.]
We parked, got out and Glenn unlocked the front door of the pet hotel. The waiting room there was very inviting, large, incredibly neat and filled with charming pet treats and children's books.
Front Desk of the Bark Plaza Hotel
Along the walls were poster sized, professionally produced pictures of the actual rescued pets from the shelter (located just across the yard). We stepped into the exercise area, partitioned by white movable picket fences. It was a large room, almost auditorium-sized. Along the walls, stood well-appointed, open-faced pet rooms. Each had its own custom fabricated gate; with bars just close enough together that no dog could ever bit a hand that got too close. But they were airy enough to easily view the pets, even for small children.
There were soft beds in each open room, and there was a back door to each that led directly outside where they could get fresh air and do their doggy business. At the face of each extended wall (that could be seen over by adults), stood a street style lamp, giving the appearance of the French Quarter of New Orleans, when the overhead lights were turned off.
Through glass doors at the side was the cat room. It it struck me as especially nice for feline friends. About maybe eight cats were free to climb around of stands, laze around on soft cat beds and walk in and out of the heated part of the room to the outside where a screened in room there allowed them to run around and play with each other, feeling like they were outdoors, but with the safe impression that at anytime they could scoot right back inside.
At other pet hotels that I have seen, the cats are all caged up, sometimes under glaring florescent lights in smelly rooms. NONE of this was true for this cat hotel. They all milled about without any conflict between them. The ones who wanted privacy simply crawled up into their beds and hung out above the cat party. Even I would leave my cat there if I were living somewhere in Texas county and needed a first rate 4 Star hotel for him to enjoy having a break from me.
The place was extremely clean. It had not even the slightest hint of odor. This is do to a high tech filtration system that used ultraviolet light to kill germs while the fans continuously circulated and filter the air, mixing it with fresh air.
We then locked up and walked over to the shelter building. It was a bit louder as one might image with dogs who had been abandoned and lost. But they were fortunate to have a loving staff during the day to care for them and large rooms to jump around in.
The puppy room was adorable and would steal any one's heart away. There were six or seven little pups who eagerly came to greet us. they hopped over each other and tripped around carelessly.
The cats were calm and looked expectant. Each drew you in with its eyes, like cats do. All of these animals are adoptable and waiting for YOU to come and take them home. Please take a leisurely browse through my pictures and (soon) videos available on this timeline or at their associated websites, with links also available on my profile page.
We locked up the shelter and headed back to the truck. Since Glenn and Rita lived right up the street it took no time to get home. We got back to their house and started down the driveway as we had done earlier in the evening, toward the dark area where the pond sat beyond the edge of the grassy hill. And there lay two does staring into our headlights with out batting their little eyelashes, and not moving at all.
It was such an image of nighttime tranquility. The house was nicely lit from within by indirect lamps, shining through the windows. He drove to the bottom part of the driveway and told me to unload my gear by the back door of the guestroom. I did, and we circled back up to the front door to park.
Inside, Rita met us at the door and led us into the kitchen. The couple has four rescued dogs of their own and they greeted us. Rita was on the phone, still arranging rides and appointments for the dog I found and really having quite a bit of success. She also doesn't take "no" for an answer!
Glenn showed my around their house. It was a wide-open space where the kitchen led into a dining area and then around a corner into the living room. Soft carpets and low light bathed the floors. Huge beams rescued from an old railway warehouse strongly supported the high ceilings and intricate curves of the walls. An immense brick fireplace gave the feeling of being in a lodge on a mountainside, which in some ways was very similar to the way their house was situated on the hillside, snug and private.
Going back into the kitchen, Glenn got busy scooping out some delicious vanilla ice cream. He pulled a big piece of coconut cream pie out from under its glass rest place and slid it on to a plate, pushing both in front of me. I usually some discomfort with such extreme generosity, but they made me feel like a family member who had come home to visit. And I had just met only hours earlier!
I couldn't resist the sweet hospitality of a fine dessert with these folks and dug into my treat, loving every bite. We fooled around with the internet, discussed more about what each of us did with our lives, our histories and our ambitions and philosophies about life. It was a true blessing and I have only rarely experienced such a warm and friendly time with strangers-now-friends.
Eventually it was time to break up the meeting and go to bed. Glenn led me down to a wide hotel-suite quality guestroom that I thought would have made a great master bedroom, or maybe even a small house. The big soft bed was loaded with pillows. Rural scenery graced the walls. The bathroom was stocked with a jet-tub and a separate shower, two sinks and a towel waiting on the edge of the vanity.
To have gone from sleeping on wet leaves in a sagging tent in 35 F air, with the constant chance of wild animal encounters the night before to THIS, was... well... almost miraculous. I went online to check out the final night's posts here at FB, and the shut down the laptop and climbed into bed. I slept better than I have in a long time.
I didn't know exactly what was going to happen the next day. But I had a funny feeling Glenn knew perfectly well. I DID know it would likely be filled with more inspiration and adventure and I would not be disappointed!
[* Note: There are many pictures and videos of TASTC and Bark Plaza Pet Hotel on my Facebook profile pages. Please Friend me there for more!]
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