Honk for My Canadian Adventure (Part 1)

The Waddle Honk Inn on Wheels

If you’d told me a couple of years ago that I’d ever tow a thirty-foot trailer with a truck, I’d have called bull$h!+. If you’d said I would be hauling it through Toronto (or on any multi-lane roadway), I’d have laughed. If you’d said it would be filled with waterfowl and the truck with multiple animals, well, it probably would have made sense then. That seems just absurd enough to be something I’d engage in.

So, all three now join my story. Last summer, Kevin and I had a great adventure out west. This summer I tagged along with friends for another great adventure—picture all of the above, crossing the Canadian border in Detroit and rolling across Canada to the east. This was a unique adventure, and my friends are cooler than yours.

I became friends with Danyelle and Ethan through volunteering at the greyhound adoption center when they moved to Illinois from Canada. A few years and the accumulation of more pets later, it was time for them to return home to Nova Scotia.

Some stressful events occurred early in the trip:

1. The Yukon sprang an oil leak before we even reached Detroit. Coincidentally, Danyelle is a mechanic, so she crawled in under the hood. Impressive.

2. We very narrowly made it to the airport for inspection (ten minutes late)—yes, rolling into Detroit Metro with a thirty-foot trailer of birds.

3. We made it to the Ambassador Bridge before exports inspection closed, but they didn’t want to help us…even though Danyelle had everything covered down to fine details and had made arrangements ahead of time. They eventually relented, or we’d have been sleeping in the coop with the ducks.

Goodbye US, Hello Canada

On the Canadian side, the border services personnel welcomed my friends home, and I’d say they were pretty excited to be involved in this operation. I don’t think this was a typical day for them. Everyone wanted a glimpse at the traveling animal shelter. The border crossing process itself took upwards of five hours.

Over the next few days, we had some really late nights, as one day blended into another. Traveling with multiple animals apparently swallows time. Our trip spanned five days and four nights in Airbnbs. One night was particularly rough, driving through Quebec in the dark, rain, and moose warnings. One town actually had a deer crossing sign in the middle of town. But we made it—and got to bed around 3 am.

A few highlights I should mention include the following: 

1. My first Tim Horton’s. If you know, you know. If you don’t, well, consider that we had it three times one day. Kevin stalked my location once and texted, “ Again!!??” It’s easy and consistent. 

2. Driving along the 401, eliciting honks, waves, thumbs up, and nods. We probably got some middle fingers, too.

3. I should mention the back of the trailer declared, “Waddle Honk Inn Mobile Coop. Animals on board,” and listed all 17 animals. It was pretty special.

4. Delicious dinner for Danyelle’s birthday at St. Hubert in Quebec. Ethan speaks French respectably.

5. Morning waterfowl chores (it’s more work than you think) in four Canadian provinces.

6. At the AirBnB in Quebec, we awoke to a beautiful stream and countryside.

The last day had the shortest driving time. At 3 1/2 hours left, I was sure we could power through. It’s a good thing that I had resolved to stay unattached to any particular outcome, because the road construction had other ideas for us. 

We hit a jarring bump and lost a couple of totes from the flatbed (one exploded). We cleaned up the disaster and regrouped. A little way down the road, Danyelle said she was surprised we didn’t blow a tire because that trailer was prone to it.

You’ll never guess what happened next. Yes, it blew a tire. Here’s the thing about this trip. They were prepared for anything and had three spare tires on board. We were back on the road in a bit. Well, we blew a tire on the other side with twenty minutes left in the trip. Practice makes perfect, and we were minimally delayed.

Good Thing They Brought Spares

Despite setbacks, we did arrive at our destination with daylight left for the first time. What a joy that was. The daylight didn’t last long as we got everything off the trailer. I was integral to unloading, as I ran the tractor bucket and then the trailer lift to assist (this was sarcasm, in case you missed it—integral is a strong word). I was the “help-as-possible” crew.

Over the next days, there were many totes and boxes and projects. As they say—one step forward and two steps back. Each project came with its own dilemmas and setbacks. The priorities were to ensure safety and comfort for all the animals and begin preparations for the animal sanctuary. Stay tuned. I will eventually share more about this in my next book.

While I wasn’t responsible for anything (except keeping us alive while I was driving), there were parts of this journey that begged for adaptability. Perhaps one of the most impactful examples was the hope we’d reach our destination before dark. Unforeseen events prohibited that until the last day, when our drive time was the shortest (and we almost missed the mark then). Another example was accepting that I wasn’t useful in some circumstances. Let’s face it, I’m useless with an engine, backing a long trailer, or anything with a threat of being crushed.

Are you familiar with the concept of unattachment for emotional resilience? This is actually one of my daily mantras. I coach myself daily because, honestly, it’s hard to remember in the moment. The concept of staying unattached to outcomes roots from ancient Eastern philosophies, including Buddhism. Staying unattached to outcomes releases us from basing happiness on things beyond our control, therefore minimizing unnecessary suffering. 

Reminding myself to remain unattached to any particular outcome, accepting what I couldn’t change, and being comfortable admitting my limitations were key to remaining emotionally regulated. I could have easily succumbed to my insecurities and inherent need to feel in control. In some ways, this was a test for me. Practicing these principles allowed me to pass successfully.

Thank goodness this was not my operation. I joked that if this had been our move, we’d have to buy two houses, because we’d end up divorced—funny, but not really funny. Moving is stressful, but moving with so many variables (multiple animals, a different country) could send anyone over the edge. I feel honored that my friends trusted me enough to accompany them on this adventure.

This was such an adventure that it demanded two blog posts. Very soon I will share the rest of the story and a lesson on kindness. Stay tuned.