Oregon or Bust

Woof, woof.  Me and Mom are on the road again!

We are on our way to Cape Perpetua.  I can't wait to go to the beach.

Mom has a J-O-B. She says that's a good thing. I'll reserve judgement.

The trip is going great. I love rest areas. The smells are heavenly.  Talk about diversity!

Yesterday Arlo, the Giddy Gat, rode in his carrier. This morning he hid behind the couch before Mom could catch him. He says he likes riding behind the couch but I think he just won't admit he'd rather be in the carrier.

I'll check in with everyone when we get settled.

Your friend,
Pearl

Living In An RV Park

The last time I wrote I promised to tell you about life in an RV park. Here goes.

Mom and me and the Little Bastard (Arlo) have been living at the Casa Grande RV Resort in Casa Grande, Arizona. We live in a Class C motorhome. Mom says that not all RVs and not all RV parks are the same even though they all look the same to me. But all RV parks have rules. And not all of the rules make sense.

For instance, any time I’m outside, I have to be on my leash. That really cramps my style. Mom says that some parks don’t allow dogs at all or have certain areas that are off limits to dogs. Can you believe that? It is incredible that we still suffer that kind of discrimination in the 21^st century in the United States. Also, there is some weird obsession with poop. There is a rule that Mom has to pick up my poop. If she doesn’t we could get kicked out. That seems a little harsh to me. There are even signs up that ask us to report people who don’t pick up poop. People seem to enjoy rules – why else would they have so many? Mom does like the free poop bags and she gets annoyed when the dispenser is empty. She says there ought to be a rule.

Most of you know that I don’t really like to have other dogs in my space. Except for Ruger. He’s OK because he recognizes that I’m in charge. So in my opinion, the biggest con about living in an RV park is all the other dogs. I get that people like to have us around. I’m actually suspicious of people who don’t have a dog with them or at least a little dog smell on their clothes. You can’t ask for a more loyal friend and most of us are good travelers so I’m not surprised by all the dogs. It’s just a big adjustment for me. I’m 14 and I don’t like adjusting. There is a Sheltie here named Miley. We get along OK. There are a lot of little dogs. I get in trouble for barking at them even if they bark first. Some of these dogs pee in my area. That has meant a lot of extra peeing for me. I know you know what I mean.

Not all the dogs here are little. There are some big dogs including a couple of air head Golden Retrievers. They think life is just one tail wagging, tongue lapping lark. Neither of them have done a serious days work in their lives. Then there’s a dog called a Mastiff. I don’t know what that means but she is one big dog. Even though Mom doesn’t think so, I do know that I’m short and being next to the Mastiff really drives home the point. Down the street from us is a dog called a “Dorky.”  Mom is embarrassing when she sees him. He is a Yorkie, Dachshund mix. I say big deal. There’s a puppy here named Amigo. I’d kind of like to play with him but he’s so wiggly and squirmy. And cute. Yuck.

Much to my surprise a lot of people have cats in their RVs. You know that Mom insists on keeping Arlo with us and I’ve always kind of thought that he’s embarrassing. But unlike me, he has to stay inside. I’m not sure why except I think Mom is worried that he wouldn’t find his way home. He’s about as smart as a piece of rawhide. Here’s the shocking part. Some of the RV cats wear harnesses and are walked around the park! One of them even gets pushed around in a stroller. 

There is a homeless kitten here that Mom has been feeding but she can’t catch it. She says she wants to get it fixed and find it a home. Arlo and I have both told it that’s what Mom has in mind in gory detail because there is no way that we are getting another cat. We have scared the kitten so much that he won’t let Mom get close to it. And she’s still feeding it! What a trout!

As far as what this place is like, there are some trees and some pretty plants. Unfortunately the plants are up high so I can’t pee on them. That’s pretty much the only dirt. There is row after row after row of RVs, fifth wheels and trailers that all have big tires. The streets are all paved and every place else is gravel. I don’t like to walk on gravel. The asphalt makes my feet dirty but that bothers Mom a lot more than it bothers me. There is a grassy pet area which I assume is nice. But since I have this little control freak issue, I don’t get to go there.

This place is full of comedians. Mom and I have heard every short joke known to man. Mom smiles at everybody and says ha, ha. It makes me mad because people don’t understand that my form fits my job herding cattle. OK, I’ve never herded a cow. I have smelled them and I think I would like to herd them. Or at least eat their poop. Anyway, I guess it stands to reason that when most of the people have nothing to do but wash their RVs and keep track of what everyone else is doing that you are going to meet some jokesters.

Mom likes this place because it has a nice swimming pool. I love to swim and on these hot days I’d really like to take a dip in the pool but I have noticed that there are “no pet” signs there. However, there is an exception for service dogs. Hello? Herding dog. Companion. Chief of RV Security. I think I qualify but Mom never takes me.

Well, that’s pretty much what life in the RV park is like. It’s not bad, I guess. I’d like to get to come and go as I please and poop without Mom standing there with her bags but it’s entertaining to watch the dogs and the kitten and people. And Mom and me are together. That’s huge.

Oh, remember all those comedians with their short jokes? My favorite thing is to stop in the middle of the street when I see them coming in their cars and pee. Sometimes I pretend to pee even if I don’t have to. Now that’s funny.

So, take care and bow wow.

Your friend,

Pearl

It has been a long time since Mom and I have done any writing. A lot in our lives has changed. I don’t live in Alaska anymore. I’m not really sure why things changed but my kibble keeps coming so that’s good. Arlo, aka The Cat, The Little Bastard, The Gosh Darn Gitty Gat, still lives with us.  

Lee, my other person, is gone. That’s really sad and Mom doesn’t talk about it much. I don’t know how long Lee has been gone but I haven’t been licking tears off of Mom’s face as often so I guess it has been a while. Mom says that Lee is still watching over us and I can tell that’s true. Every time Arlo does something annoying I hear Lee telling me to go get him. Don’t tell Mom.

I have a new job description and title. I’m Chief of RV Security. I’m not a young pup anymore. I’m 14 now, so it hasn’t been easy learning a new skill set. Plus, our RV configuration has been a moving target. For a while we lived in a pickup camper. Then we lived in a travel trailer. That was nice but then we went back to the camper. Just when I was getting used to that we moved back into the travel trailer. While I almost never agree with Arlo, I have to say that he was right on when he made some rather loud protests about the lack of stability in our living arrangements. Then Mom bribed him with canned cat food and the Little Bastard backed down.

Arlo is a better traveler than anyone thought he would be. He has to ride in a cage thing which I think is awesome. But he sleeps all day and then when we stop for the night, he is hell on wheels, literally. It’s quite disturbing. He runs around leaping on things and going to areas of the RV he’s not supposed to be in – basically where ever I am. I don’t understand why he can’t just stay in the cage. But I get to ride shot gun which is excellent.

We’ve done a lot of traveling. We’ve been back to Alaska a couple of times which has been really fun. It’s been about the only time I’ve gotten to be outside off of my leash. One of my favorite places was when we got to live in the travel trailer at the place my boy Kyle and his dog Ruger worked in Colorado. He had lots of horses there. There were a lot of people too but the horses were the best part. Horses are very big. Their nostrils are huge. They eat a lot and they poop a lot. I just love horse poop. Ruger showed me that horse hooves are a tasty treat, too. Obviously horses aren’t the smartest animals but they are smart enough not to let a dog chew on their hooves while they are still attached. Ruger and me like to chew on the trimmed off pieces. Some dogs like to roll in horse poop but not me. I don’t like to get baths and if you roll in horse poop you are guaranteed, 100%, going to get a bath.

We spent last winter in Texas at the Aransas Wildlife Refuge. I made friends with a retired gray hound named Ziggy. Really, we were friends. His person is Penni. She gets me. There were lots of deer, pocket gophers and turkeys where we lived and some really weird animals, too. Once I sounded the alarm big time when I saw a creature unlike anything I had ever seen before. I got praised for letting the neighbors know there was an armadillo in the yard and then told to shut up. Everyone stood outside taking pictures. I was telling them to kill it or to let me kill it, not take pictures of it. What possible purpose could a creature that looks like that have? But once again, I was misunderstood.

Then we went to Oregon. I really like the place we had there. We were close to the ocean and the travel trailer was parked in a place where I could be off of my leash as long as I behaved. There were deer there. Their poop is also tasty but not as good as horse poop. Anyway, Mom likes it there a lot so we are going back this spring. Mom says we have to hit the road before it gets too hot here. I don’t understand that saying but Mom says to stop being so literal.

For now we are at a place called an RV park and we have something called a Class C. It is very comfy. Bigger than the camper, about the same as the travel trailer. We are in a town called Casa Grande which is kind of ironic when you think about it. RV parks are weird. I’ll tell you more about living in an RV park next time. Right now I have to take a nap. Naps and drinking a lot of water have always been important but now that I’m 14 napping is more of a reflex than a choice.

Bow wow,

Pearl