Day Forty-Seven

Kudzu and I spent another lazy, uneventful day enjoying the beauty of the Mojave Desert. Again, we followed a winding dirt road and selected a patch of ground to call our own for the night. Except for our red Toyota truck, there was nothing to indicate that time had changed for centuries.

More Mojave

As we progress farther West, I realize that I should probably explain the origin of Kudzu's name. In Tennessee, nobody seems to have a problem with it, but out here it draws some curious looks. Back when Kudzu's mom and I were married, we bought her as a puppy and wen't through the usual argument about what to call her. We wanted something unique and since she never stopped moving, we thought of the lush green Japanese vine that has engulfed some portions of the South. Kudzu was introduced to the South in the early 20th Century as a potential fodder for cattle and has taken over many abandoned pastures and hillsides due to its ability to grow as much as twelve inches per day. Southerners are all familiar with the plant and immediately recognize the name. Everyone else thinks I'm saying Kazoo and I keep having to spell it out. Zoobley and Zoobs are merely variations on Kudzu dreamed up by her mom who has always given all our pets multiple nicknames just to keep life interesting. At certain points in our marriage, we had as many as six dogs all with several names. I'm sure people thought we ran a kennel for dogs with multiple personality disorder.