I lay awake listening to the rain pounding on the roof, wondering if it might give me a break in the morning to hook up the trailer and head home—didn’t sound like it—and wishing I was home safe and dry. I wondered why I didn’t heed the weather reports about the “monsoon plume” and postpone this trip, and if Dixie was going to have to go out again in the rain for her upset tummy.

            Now the dogs and I are home, safe and dry. I did hook up the trailer in the rain and drive through it from Abiquiu Lake to Corrales. For the extra stress, I was rewarded with a little more self-confidence. I thought this would be an easy trip because I’d done it before. And it was, until the weather provided a new challenge.

            The thing about stormy weather is that lighting is more interesting than a sunny, blue-sky day. There are dramatic clouds and sunsets, rainbows, and a kaleidoscope of images. I was disappointed not to be able to spend more time in the water with Gracie, Dixie, and Cowboy, who show the most potential for swimming. We succeeded in only a brief dip but it felt good that we got that.

            As I get older, I notice that my comfort zone is shrinking. I see that if I don’t make an effort to expand it, it will continue to shrink. This is one of my justifications for acquiring a travel trailer.

Before Ed passed away in January, we went trailer shopping, and he encouraged me to buy the one I wanted: a 24-footplus slide-out, suitable for cold weather and off-road use. The learning curve was steep, and different from any challenge I had ever undertaken willingly.

            After bringing it home, I regarded it with some terror, and wondered if I had made a big mistake. Could I really learn all I needed to safely drive with a house in tow? Mistakes one makes with a camera or computer are rarely serious, but now screwing up could be dangerous. I thought about the women I know who drive enormous motor homes with their dogs to agility meets. Surely I could do it too.

            After two weeks of practice maneuvering around the yard, studying manuals, learning about gray water and black, and other stuff previously not in my world, six dogs and I made our first trailer trip, ten days and 1,400 miles in Arizona and Utah. It was a thrill to arrive safely back home and know that I did it—and could do it again!

            The reason for all this, in addition to expanding my comfort zone, is to be able to take my dogs wherever I go. Tony, Dixie, Gracie, Cowboy, Dancer, and Crystal are well-behaved enough to travel with me, though I do wish that all of them had the natural abilities of Bro and Tracy, who could go anywhere without a leash.

            When the West was new to me, the scenery and local cultures interested me most. Now I seek out animal shelters, people involved in rescue, and animals in need of help. In the last year we have visited shelters in Farmington and Aztec, Annie’s Orphans in Durango, the new shelter in Kayenta and Black Hat Rescue in Arizona, and Best Friends Animal Sanctuary in Utah.

            Years ago I learned the hard way that just when you think you have overcome a challenge is the moment you will make a big mistake. I continue to learn more about travel, and remind myself that no matter how good I may feel about it, I must continue to be careful—with six family members who depend on me to bring them safely home.

Photographer Joyce Fay founded Bro & Tracy Animal Welfare in 2000, a nonprofit organization dedicated to helping animals find the right homes.

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