From JuJu with Love

People sometimes ask me how I’ve managed to travel to all seven continents.

They usually expect me to talk about airline miles, retirement, or finding the right tour company.

But the truth?

Every trip begins with a different question.

“Who’s taking care of Maizey while I’m away?”

Because my little sled dog isn’t exactly low maintenance.

She’s afraid of fireworks. She thinks feathers are breakfast. She has a remarkable talent for finding things she shouldn’t eat. And if there’s one sprinkler still running in an entire neighborhood… she’ll find it.

I don’t just need someone to feed her.

I need people who know her.

People who understand her quirks, laugh at her antics, comfort her during thunderstorms, and keep her safe when her curiosity gets the better of her.

Every passport stamp I collect comes with a little bit of trust from someone back home.

The people who care for Maizey don’t just make my travels easier.

They make them possible.

So when I post photos from Japan, Antarctica, Alaska, or wherever my next adventure takes me, part of my gratitude always belongs to the people back home loving my dog like she’s their own.

Some people collect souvenirs.

I collect kindness.

And I never forget the people who help me see the world.

When I’m halfway around the world, Cathy and Joe are making sure Maizey doesn’t sample the neighborhood buffet. And at the same time they are spoiling her with string cheese and homemade meatballs.

Shelley stays at my house so Maizey can sleep in her own bed.

If I’m cheering for Michigan or spending the afternoon at the Fisher Theatre, Allyson comes by for a potty break and a play session so I don’t spend the whole day worrying.

And sometimes Bob doesn’t need a reason at all. He just wants a Maizey sleepover because he loves her.

People sometimes tell me how lucky I am to travel so much.

They’re right.

But not for the reason they think.

I’m lucky because I have people who make it possible.

People who love my little sled dog almost as much as I do.

This year alone…

While I was in Alaska, Cathy and Joe made sure Maizey was safe.

When I head to Charleston and Savannah in a few months, they’ll do it all again.

Later that month, Shelley will move into my house while I’m cheering on Michigan with my college friends in Piscataway.

In December, Margaret will take over while I reconnect with my Washington, D.C. work family.

And next spring, when I’m wandering through Tuscany, Cathy and Joe will once again welcome my little sled dog into their home.

Looking at that list, I realized something.

I may travel solo…

But I never get there alone.

I’ve been welcomed by strangers on seven continents.

But every trip begins with the people waiting back home.

Every passport stamp I’ve collected has a little paw print behind it… and the fingerprints of friends who make sure my little sled dog is safe until I walk back through my front door.

And after nearly two weeks away in Alaska, one of the best moments of the entire trip wasn’t seeing Denali or a glacier.

It was walking through Cathy and Joe’s front door and seeing my little sled dog again.

The world may be my playground.
But our village at home is what makes every adventure possible.

And for that, I will forever be grateful.

From Juju (and Maizey) with love 💙🐾