Road Trip Day 1: Are we almost there, Mom?

Warning! Picture Heavy!Today C and I started our long drive to Arizona. We started at Gigi and Papa's house, where C has been getting spoiled beyond reason. Grandparents!  There were many tears, but not all just for us.  More on that later.So, this is how we started off.
C (bless the person wo invented the portable DVD player):
Pepper and Dutch:
And Arf, our newest acquisition (more on him later):
This is how Alabama bid us farewell. Rain:
Woohoo!!! State line:
Pepper and Dutch about an hour into the drive:
I couldn't get a good pic of this, but C loved it. It's a trike motorcycle:
Woohoo! Another State line:
One of the things I love about Louisiana. The crazy names for places:
Atchaf...what? They had an awesome welcome center though (look at the blue sign):
State Line!!!!:
Is this really Texas? These words don't make sense:
A Texas sunset:
We made it from Mobile to Houston. I was so happy to see the hotel. C was an excellent little traveler. As were the dogs, bless their sweet little hearts.

So, are you intrigued by the new acquisition and all the tears at Gigi and Papa's house?  Well, who am I to keep you in suspense?  "Arf" (I'll get to the awful name later) is a 4 lb, 5 year old Maltese, who until today, belonged to my mom.  They got him (ironically through us) about 4.5 years ago and he's been spoiled, spoiled, spoiled.  They also had a gorgeous, jet black, teacup poodle named Tiger.  Arf and Tiger were best buds (mostly-when Tiger felt like it.  He was a bit of a snob.)  and together all the time.  Sadly, Tiger passed away from cancer in April.  My mom was devestated.  If there was ever a dog devoted to a person, it was Tiger to my mom.  He worshiped her.  When she left the house, he would sit in the middle of the floor and howl.  It was sad and more than a little annoying.  He was diagnosed mid last year with cancer that was inoperable. He was given less than a year to live. By March, they knew the end was near, and when it finally came, it was relatively quiet and hopefully painless.  He died  wrapped in his favorite blanket and being rocked in my mom's arms.  As devestated as my mom was, Arf was more so.  He was lonely and stopped eating. At 4 lbs, he could hardly stand to lose any weight.  They literally have been hand feeding him since Tiger died and he would only eat a little at a time.  When they came up to my house to get C for his summer of spoiling, Arf was so happy to be around my dogs.  He ate like he was starving to death.  When they went home he stopped eating again.  Poor little love.  Though interestingly, he started sleeping with C instead of them. 
Upon my arrival (to end the summer of spoiling), he started eating again with my dogs.  Apparently he's a social eater.  My mom made the incredibly difficult and selfless decision to ask me to take him.  She was afraid that if he didn't come with us and start eating, they'd be burying him along side Tiger before long.  Of COURSE I agreed to take him.  C, M and I adore him and vice versa.  So today, my mom and step dad said good bye to him. They both cried. My mom sobbed. SOBBED. It was so bad it even made me cry. Arf settled in just fine and ate like a pig when we stopped at the hotel. I'm sure he misses my mom, but he seems to be handling it just fine.
I would love to change his name but I'm afraid it's too late. When C was little and just learning to talk, he called all dogs "arf." He'd point to a dog and say excitedly "Mommy! Arf! Arf!" My mom of course thought this was the cutest thing ever and renamed tiny Frank the Tank (his previous moniker), Arf. It's cute when you know the story, but I feel super lame calling him Arf, especially in public.

Okay, I've written enough. I'm exhausted and tomorrow is Day 2. Fort Stockton is our goal. It's so far away.