A Dog's Life

After we left the strip club capital of the US (and obsessively and compulsively bathed ourselves in hand sanitizer), we made short order of the UP. This is very familiar stomping grounds for us, so aside from the obligatory stops for giant cinnamon rolls, more pasties, and smoked fish, we blew on through, barely pausing to throw fare money at the Mackinac Bridge attendant. 

Our next stop was Kalkaska, in Michigan’s lower pennisula. Kalkaska was selected soley on its proximity to The Silver Muzzle Cottage, which is an old age home for discarded dogs with serious health problems. The woman that runs the place, Kim Skarritt, is an amazingly generous, compassionate, and altruistic dog lover who has chosen to devote her days to caring for dogs that are in a very vulnerable, difficult, and expensive time of their life cycle. Short of my wife, I’ve never met anyone who cares more for animals. After reading about her in a Detroit Free Press article, one of Wife’s must-do items on this trip was to volunteer some time at Silver Muzzle, and we made that happen. 

I, on the other hand, do not consider cleaning up after rickety, leaky dogs a bucket-list vacation activity. It’s not that I don’t support those who do, it's just that, personally, I’m kind of a heartless dick. If you’re a regular reader, this is not news to you. Anyway, since my morning was free, I took the opportunity to explore Kalkaska. If you’ve ever been, then you already know I would have been better off mopping dog spooge. 

Karma. 

Kalkaska, if I’m not mistaken, is the Ojibwe word for “needs gentrification.”  Unlike the nearby towns of Petosky, Bay Harbor, and Charlevoix, Kalkaska was apparently not waterfront enough to warrant a stop by the locust-like swarm of BMW and Lexus owners that transformed the areas directly to the north. Aside from the giant statue of a trout on main street (and lets be perfectly clear: I’m not at all knocking giant fish statues), Kalkaska hasn’t changed a bit since I was a kid. Same thrift shops. Same vacant store fronts. 

So, in summary...

Giant Fish statues: good.

Kalkaska: meh.

The Silver Muzzle Lodge: worthy of your donations (seriously, send them a few bucks).

Sadly, they were out of camel that day/

Do I detect master race undertones in this slogan?

Rock on.

OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG! The mother ship!

In the city, sneakers hanging over utility wires generally indicate a drug dealer lives nearby. I don't know what this tree in Kalkaska signifies other than a possible meth lab run by Keebler elves.