This post isn’t so much about getting my new car that we’re trading for later this week. I know most of you really.don’t.care what I drive. You have WAY more important things going on in your life.

This post is about letting go of the old one. 

We bought this Acadia “way back” in the summer of 2009. My life has undergone some dramatic changes in the 5 years I’ve owned it.

I remember showing it to my mom for the first time. It was more than a year later that she passed away.

This is Daisy checking it out right after I brought it home.

This is Raven. She’s checking out the backseats.

“I don’t really care for these seats, Mother. I prefer a bench seat. Can you take it back?”

None of the dogs who lived with us when I bought this car are alive now. They are all gone. 🙁 And that was less than 5 years ago.

It was the first MuttMobile.

The Black Dog Saloon looked like this. (Actually, I don’t know that we had even thought about a Black Dog Saloon yet.)

 We adopted a new baby, and named her Charra, because she was the color of something that had been ‘charred’.

We didn’t name her Charro because  I did not want someone thinking she would ‘koochie koochie koochie!’ And if you’re too young to know what that means: That’s what they made Google for. 😀

We flipped our first house.

Club 88 was born at Daytona Speedway.

And my dear friend Christine and I looked through the world with (blue) colored glasses.

We have a different RV. We’ve started a new business. We have another new project in the works.

And we’d never been to the Florida Keys, had never heard of Key’s Disease, and had no idea how it would change our lives.

So much has changed, yet so much remains comfortingly (is that a word?) the same.

The Acadia has seen us through a lot, and all of it safely. Thank goodness.

If she could talk, what stories would she tell? That I’m a terrible singer, probably. And clumsy. And sometimes not a very good carkeeper. 😉 And that I sometimes forced her to drive over curbs. 

I remember the very first ding.

I was airing up a tire at Casey’s wearing platform shoes. Somehow, I lost my balance on the edge of the curb. (I really, really wish I could tell you this was the first time I’d engaged in curb wrestling.)

To regain balance, I began waiving my arms wildly to save myself. And, BANG! I threw the tire guage right into the side of the car. 😀 Ooops.

As exciting as it is to get a new ride, it’s also sad to say goodbye. It’s funny how cars can become so personal to us.

Is it because we spend so much time in them? So many times, it’s just us and our cars, sort of like a friend. I’ve had light bulb moments when driving that car, and times of great sadness.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very excited about my new ride.

“I’M NOT WORTHY!!!” I thought when I laid eyes on it for the first time.

“I’ll keep you cleaner! I’ll lose my last 20 pounds! I’ll be more professional! I know I’ll be a better person with you!…”

Yes, I really thought all those things about an inanimate object. 😀

Like a New Year, a new ride brings opportunity. It’s sort of a fresh start, a Do-Over, a new adventure. The slate is clean, it’s a chance to right all the wrongs. The Tahoe doesn’t know that I’m clumsy, a messy eater, and bring with me all sorts of black dog hair, which is usually connected to black dogs.

Or that I’m going to stuff it with all sorts of things that I probably shouldn’t. Or that realistically, this is the cleanest it will ever be.

The Acadia learned this, and still carried us tirelessly.

Fairwell, MuttMobile One. I’ll miss you. Thank you for serving us well. 🙂