The journey begins

November 11, 2017 I packed my 2012 Volkswagen Golf to the brim with essentials: a couple a pillows, a comforter, work clothes, a couple of pairs of shoes, a few books, my camera, my computer, and the bass guitar Sebastian had given me a few years prior. I was leaving Lafayette, Indiana for my next great opportunity in Atlanta, one that assured me that I could use my long-crafted German skills in a non-classroom environment for the first time since leaving Germany in 2007. I was nervous about the unknown in a new city and at a new job. It had been awhile since I had been new. Would my colleagues like me? Would I make friends? Would I be good at working away from an academic environment? Would I get lost? Would I have a chance to live the city life walking everywhere, using public transportation, and be anonymous when I needed?

Sebastian left for work that morning before I hit the road. We said an emotional goodbye that felt safe and not scary. Afterall, it was he who had encouraged me to apply for the position of Educational Outreach Director at the Goethe-Zentrum Atlanta and proofread all of my correspondence with the executive director. He wanted me to get this job because he knew this could be a big career step for me and because he saw this as our chance to get out of bleak west central Indiana and the dead end paths that offered so little for educated professionals, especially those needing international connections. In fact, it was Sebastian who stomped on my doubt whether we could manage to move 7 temperamental dogs from Indiana to Georgia. In his words, “We will always find an excuse if we don’t do this now.” I appreciated the push and took advantage of his support. I gave the application my all.

When I said my individual goodbyes to the dogs, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I loved these babies with all of my heart and would have given my right foot to make sure they were safe, happy, and healthy. Just as the feasibility of the move weighed heavily on my heart, I feared my long-term absence would also impact them negatively. I had been primarily working from home for the last 3.5 years although even prior to that I had seldom had long hours away from home--grad school gave me some flexible hours and an opportunity to read or study on my own couch. The dogs had grown accustomed to my attention, frequent potty breaks, and the privilege of not spending their days locked up in crates, spare bedrooms, or the kitchen.

Because my first day of work came quickly and the preparations for the move were interrupted by the passing of my grandmother, little had been done to make a concrete timeline for Sebastian and the dogs to follow behind me to Atlanta. There were several things that needed to be done to get everyone ready. Most importantly, the dogs needed some intensive training. As the pack grew, the individual training sessions shrank until we began to accept some undesireable behaviors as normal.

The car ride was going to be rough on Ralphie. Actually, the whole situation of newness and the series of expected firsts would be rough on him. Ralphie was a unique coonhound mix whom we had raised from a pup. He was a so-called foster fail. He came to us as a rescue that never found his forever home because he was wired like no other dog we had ever met. In our home he felt safe and Everything made him anxious which resulted in fear-based aggression. New people and new environments caused him to lash out and be on the defensive if he was not surrounded by support and he did not get time to gradually adjust. As a 4-month old puppy he even tried to bite the vet when getting a sedative before his neuter surgery. In a matter of seconds this sweet, floppy sack of wrinkles turned into Cujo because he didn’t trust the person approaching him. As a 3-year-old, little had changed including his droopy ears and soulful eyes that loved as deeply as they feared the outside world. I worried desperately about his transition and implored Sebastian to work diligently on making him more and more comfortable with new things to help the move be much less intimidating and to calm my nerves.

By the time I got onto U.S. 52 heading towards Indianapolis I was relaxed, comfortable, ready. I had a new job that sounded like it was made for me. It combined my 20 years of teaching, 25 years of studying German, and the 5 years I spent living in Kassel, Germany. In contrast to the Lafayette, Indiana community, I would be surrounded by people just like me who loved the German language and culture. I had longed for that type of environment since graduating from Purdue University with my Ph.D. in German Linguistics--I just never thought I would find it in the South.

As I drove through Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, and finally Georgia, I imagined my new life in two parts--before Sebastian and the dogs moved to Atlanta and after they arrived. Although I really didn’t know if it would take Sebastian 6 weeks or 6 months to tie up all of the loose ends in Indiana, I looked forward to a little alone time in the evenings and on weekends with few responsibilities, a very welcome change from my go, go, go life with work, animal rescue responsibilities, and our own house of canines and chaos. I wanted to write more, learn bass guitar, polish up my Portuguese skills, and shift my photography to an urban focus.

After 11 hours on the road I pulled off of the highway heading towards the Airbnb where I would spend at least the next several months. My heart raced with excitement. The winding roads with historic homes sitting on hills with tall, robust magnolias towering over the roofs confirmed that I had arrived far away from anything I that resembled home. I pulled up in front of the stunning two-story home with a typical southern front porch and a balcony overlooking the street below and could see into the livingroom where a tall, thin guy was throwing his own private dance party. That energy was what I came for. I had arrived.