Vermont to Nova Scotia with the Dog on the Cat

The Barton kids hail from New Jersey, but Vermont was where we grew up, learned to fish, camp, swim, paddle. Of course, we also learned to paint, run cables, and nail pressboard in my Dad’s family owned and operated sweatshop. Dad decided to make our rustic Lake Bomoseen cabin into a double-decker, which meant that he needed minions, and the Barton kids had hands tiny enough to strip all those wires. No, we weren’t rich Jersey kids summering in Vermont. Going out to eat meant a baked potato at the Ponderosa.














But as the bumper sticker reads, I Lovermont, and I really do, more than any other state, and last week I made my annual pilgrimage home to the Green Mountains – this time, to collect Kiwi, where she’d been in summer camp with Grandpa Barton. I landed in Burlington expecting to see my Dad standing next to a furry black blob gasping for air. But Kiwi looked marvelous! She was sleek, haughty, almost worldly. In the brief time she’d been with Dad, she’s seen nearly 10 states and even more McDonalds ice cream cones.














I was prepared to take Kiwi to my childhood haunts but soon discovered that Dad had different ideas. He was angling to see Nova Scotia, and Kiwi and I were jawboned into joining him. Under normal circumstances Nova Scotia would be a treat, but my Dad planned our route via the Cat Ferry across the nausea-inducing Gulf of Maine, which meant 4 consecutive days in the passenger seat of a Buick. As Rob and Andjie would suggest, more ass time. Kiwi and I shared knowing glances as Patsy Cline’s Crazy played on the Buick’s tape deck. Again. And again. And again. I wedged my ear buds in, and rocked out to the sounds of Pimsleur Russian. Zdrast vyte! Poor Kiwi had no escape but sleep.

These are the photos that tell that story.














Kiwi in the Buick on the Cat, right under the foghorn. Designated the worst possible site for a car containing a dog.














Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia. A wee bit touristy.














Dad Barton using a non-HP digital camera.














Kiwi near Lunenberg, Nova Scotia.














Lobster Man.














Eden Rose Cottages, Bar Harbor

Kiwi in the Buick, listening to Patsy Cline.