The puppies, whimpering and a whining,
As were knocked around by the rocks in the road,
60 miles from a town…

We begin going up,
Over a pass called Baxter,










Wondering if the road we see ahead is our own…

Were high up now,
Can see the road we’ve been on,
Down in the valley,
Far Below…

We’re now skirting a mountain side,
A drop off to the side,
The puppies began to quiet,
Then the music starts to match our feelings,

“Knock, Knock, Knocking on heavens doors…”

We’re on the other side now,
Feeling better as we get off the mountain,
As the sun goes down,
Turning the sky into fire…









It’s dark now,
At 1:00 in the morning,
The puppies have to go potty…

We get home,
















Everyone tired,
We go to sleep…

It’s the next morning,
The puppies playful and happy,
Posing for a picture.