Horatio Nelson Jackson’s trek across the United States was a very costly venture, what with all the high-priced car parts and repairs, and with one or two price-gouging gasoline vendors who knew what Jackson would pay for his car’s life blood. But somewhere in the middle of the country, Jackson had to invest a little money in his mental health. What better way to keep up your spirits during trying times than to get a pet?

Maybe Jackson knew how that touch could heal the soul, or maybe he just needed a warm body to sleep next to as he longed for his wife so many miles away. Or perhaps it was the goofy look on that dog’s face that always made him look like he was smiling, and Jackson just wanted to smile right back.

I’m working on stress management in 2009, and one of the things I’ve decided to do is pet my dog more. It’s a symbiotic relationship, really - I stop to relax, and she gets a much coveted belly rub or ear scratching. It’s working out pretty well for both of us.

Wow, I really do sound like a dog mommy. Next thing you know I’ll start wearing sweatshirts with her picture on them.

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Side note: As I started writing, thinking about dogs in cars, I turned on the song “Woyaho” on Edie Brickell’s Ghost Of A Dog album, which starts off, “Red dog riding in the back of a pickup truck. Free on the freeway.” But I started to listen to the album again, and I realized that all of the references to dogs in the album seem to be about slightly neglected pets and not the cherished comfort bringers on a long hard road. So I’ll leave that discussion for another time.

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