Chasing My Shadow

The strangest thing happened to me this morning.

The children and I set off for a day at the zoo. We were running a bit late to meet a friend (a common occurrence these days) and I zipped along Anderson Road, preparing to exit onto the Deerfoot.

As I drove I reminisced about the first car I owned --- a nondescript brown Dodge we lovingly nicknamed the "Moo Mobile" (in honour of its cow print seat covers). I bought the car in 1998 after my first year of university. Though it was not much to look at, the "Moo Mobile" faithfully served me for four busy years.

I now drive a turquoise Plymouth Voyager, the quintessential suburbanite method of transportation. (Or maybe that would be a beige Honda Odyssey?)

At any rate, as I drove along Anderson Road, lost in my thoughts, I glanced over at the car travelling in the lane beside me. Goose bumps prickled along the flesh of my arms.

It was my 1989 Dodge Shadow --- the vehicle I had been thinking about only seconds earlier.

"The Car Store" bumper sticker, Jesus fish on the trunk, mismatched tail lights, trailer hook-up dangling from the rear. (Who tows a trailer with a Dodge Shadow?!) Familiar cracks across the windshield and scrapes along the side.

It was my "Moo Mobile", no question.

The weird thing is, the car was totalled back in 2003 by my sister's friend. I'd assumed the vehicle had been junked. Apparently, the dead do rise again. It's alive, it's alive!

I followed my Shadow along Deerfoot for almost ten minutes, all the way to the Memorial Drive turn off. Fondly, I watched it drive off into traffic as I took the exit to the zoo.

Keep on trucking, little Shadow. I'll never forget you ...