36. Home Again Home Again, Jigg-ity Jig.
The next morning we loaded up the Land Rover and the Jeep with all of my discoveries and Jack's new family. The plan is to drive to Laredo where Jack would turn in his rental to Acme and then we would drive back to Colorado together. His plane is waiting for him at Peterson Field and the Stargate for me at Cheyenne Mountain.
Fiona and the twins are doing wonderfully. She has obviously fallen head over heels in love with Jack and I have to say the feeling was mutual for him also. Of course, if I were a single mom raising two babies by myself, the thought of a rich, available Major General who was interested in me and my kids would have thrilled me also. And his hair was almost the same color as hers.
The pups were wiggling all around now, almost pulling themselves up on stout little legs. The little boy was a strong tyke with golden eyes, a golden tan coat and the brave name of Thor for Jack's old buddy. The dainty little girl with her white coat and brown ears I had been allowed to christen Lya. She had the same look of wisdom in deep brown eyes and I had no doubt that she has the power to enchant humans just like her namesake.
Their crate would be their home for the next few days until Jack got them back to Washington and had invested in the mandatory pet deposit. I think he had plans for one of them to be gifted to a certain retired Texan General who, Jack said, was suffering from heartbreaking loneliness and boredom, who needed a reason to live and a dog to catch mice, George's choice of course. Fiona and the other would remain together as company for each other and Jack in the wilderness of Washington DC, the pup held in readiness for my own retirement and potential ennui.
I do not expect that to be a problem. If I don't get eaten up by the great hungry maw of the Stargate, I foresee me sitting on a porch of some backwoods cabin being sucked dry by mosquitoes and writing inane science fiction books. Or perhaps, my life will be spent digging in the dirt on some rancharia in the hinterlands of the southwest looking for unimportant rocks and ignored artifacts. I know that my great expectations are not quite as originally planned by the residents of the Ivory Towers of Archaeology but I don't care.
Jack, bless his heart, says I'll be famous and important someday by my connections to the Stargate program. I seriously doubt that, but if I have learned one thing in all my travels, my adventures, and my soul shattering lessons, is that no one is complete until you have found your place. And in that place, according to some people I know, there must be friends and there should be dogs.
The End