On Sunday, August 16, the day Kyndall turned 10 months old, we hit the road to travel to Squaw Valley in Northern California, where an old friend had offered us the use of her cabin in the woods. We took Tucker, too, and the 12-hour journey must have been a trial for the dogs. They shared a wire kennel in the back of our van, and though commodious, it was more confinement than they’re used to for that length of time.
We stopped several times along the way, to give our furry passengers a break…
The cabin was beautiful, but we spent much of our time in Reno, visiting our son Michael and his girlfriend Stephanie. The first day after we arrived, Tucker stayed in Stephanie’s backyard, while Kyndall, Mike, Steve, and I toured Virginia City, which flaunts its Wild Western heritage.
Then we drove to Carson City, the state capitol. It was on that journey that we spotted signs for the brothels — which are legal in this part of Nevada. Curious, we pulled off the road to gawk at the famous Bunny Ranch (made famous by the HBO series, “Cathouse,” which I had somehow managed to miss. When Michael insisted he had a friend who had gone in just for a drink and a tour, we decided to see if this was indeed possible.
So it was that the four of us strolled in the front door (Kyndall in her cape, of course). Within seconds a parade of scantily clad young women emerged and lined up before us. One, acting as a sort of impresario, asked if we’d like to take a tour.
“Oh, we can do that?” I squeaked, embarrassed.
“Oh course,” answered the madam. “Just choose your guide.”
Another mortifying pause. Then Michael brusquely pointed to a thin, pale blonde in a bikini. She beckoned him to follow, but when Kyndall, Steve, and I made to tag along, the madam intervened, declaring that the tours could only be given one on one. Er, no thanks, Steve and I declined. While Michael disappeared into the brothel interior, his mom and dad and Kyndall waited in the entrance. Naturally, some of the remaining young ladies asked if they could pet Kyndall.
A love fest of a different sort unfolded. “This made my week!” one of the girls exclaimed. Kyndall looked pretty content too. But Mike appeared within a minute (and later reported that although the sexual services were clearly offered, he had declined). Then we were out the door, on to more adventures