Home Sweet Farm!

Final night at Lake Mead

Some of you might have been wondering by now if we took a wrong turn at Albuquerque (now how many dogs do you know who can spell Albuquerque correctly – twice?). But we didn’t, didn’t even go through that way this year. It was straight up the I15 home, the most direct route. There’d been a lot of talk about slowly travelling through California and Oregon as we made our way north, visiting a place called Cannon Beach where T wanted to take us for a walk, but in the end we stayed at Lake Mead just as long as we could and drove home through Utah, Idaho and Montana.

Heading for dinner at the Red Iguana
(looking very happy even though I couldn't go with them)

We left Lake Mead just after sunrise on a Sunday morning, stopped for lunch at a rest area near the entrance to Zion National Park, and then continued on to Salt Lake City where T and Nollind had a dinner date. They’d been talking about it for days, The Red Iguana, and I was so hoping it was one of those places that allowed dogs. But, no such luck, and apparently the food was so good they ate all of it, didn’t even bring me a taster. We continued north after dinner, crossing into Idaho and parking in another rest area, this one near Malad City. It was chilly when we hopped out of the truck, and chillier the next morning when we went for a short walk. It wasn’t the kind of chilly we experienced in January in Montana, but to this desert dog it felt mighty cold (I think I might be developing an American accent).

Just two cars to wait for at the border

As usual, I slept most of the journey so can’t tell you a lot about it, but I know the weather was fine and the roads were dry every time I sat up and looked out the window, and there wasn’t a speck of snow other than high in the mountains. We got to Great Falls, Montana by mid-afternoon Monday and, once we were parked at Dick’s, T and Nollind headed off to do some shopping. They always pick up a few things from Western Ranch Supply and Big R (now North 40 Outfitters), usually things for the horses or the farm. Even with the low dollar (I do pay attention to the news) they can still save money on things like electric fencing, dewormer and buckets.

Looking for ducks in the wetland

Looking at the weather forecast that night, there was talk of delaying the trip home for a day or two because of the high winds but, instead, we were up and driving by 5:30 to stay ahead of it. And we did…just. There was nobody lined up at the border so we were in Lethbridge by 9:00 and things were still calm when we got out to stretch our legs. Less than an hour up the road, we could feel the west wind pushing on the side of the rig, and by the time we rolled into the farm around 12:30, it was blowing around 30-40 km/hour. Within an hour, it was somewhere in the 50-70 range with a few gusts hitting up to 90 so they were all three glad to be parked, especially Logan who was remembering the tipping warnings from last year’s drive through Wyoming.

I think I can smell home

And me, was I glad to be home? I was, and still am, but I also miss the road. T and Nollind are so busy here and there’s so much competition for their time and attention. That’s one part of being human I can live without -- no time for naps. The horses always take a bunch of their time but, even after a winter of being sprayed with insecticides, they still have cooties so are more demanding than ever since we’ve been home. We’ve been on a few walks and they took me to Strathmore one day to the vet (I love going to see Julie and she told me the bump on my head is nothing to worry about) but other than that we’ve been left mostly to our own devices. I’ve spent a lot of time hunting gophers, but this morning Logan and I ran off into the fields for an hour or so and had the greatest of times. I’m not sure T was as pleased as we were, and now Logan can hardly walk with that bad elbow of his, so I feel kind of bad.

Walking the back twenty

T and Nollind proclaimed today “Sid Day” (Sid is the name of our fifth wheel for those who’ve forgotten). Sid Day is apparently when they set aside the farm chores, the Calgary renovation project, the year end, the horse sale tasks, and the cootie problem and just hang out with us, watch some TV, take a nap, putter around the house and, yay, help me with my blog. These Sid Days could easily become my favourite days of the month...or week (not sure how often they’ll come around but I’m hoping).

Aaaahhhhh.....

Logan and I plan to keep up the blog writing here at home since life is a grand adventure wherever we are. In fact, I hear we might be heading west with the horse trailer soon, delivering Calypso to her new home. Sounds like a great road trip to me! And of course I’ll keep you apprised of my quest for humanness although, today, being a dog is feeling mighty fine.

Who Knew They Could Swim?

Sharing a cone in Pahrump's Petrack Park
(say that three times fast)

Four hours. They spent four hours at the Las Vegas Outlet Mall while Chico and I waited back at the trailer. Now we were cool and comfy, napping on the bed, that’s not the issue, but you know what the next stop was? Petco. Guess how long they spent there. Go on, guess. You’d think at least an hour to peruse the many things we might need or want, but no, ten minutes! Teresa was in and out in ten minutes carrying half a dozen cans of food. Good food mind you, the Blue Buffalo kind I like best, but still.

Can still get all four off the ground!

Campsite at Lake Mead

I forgave them when we reached our next camp though. We were boondocking again, which I prefer to RV park life, and this spot had a huge body of water – Lake Mead. We arrived right at sunset so didn’t have much time to explore but it looked very promising. We’d been at the Nevada Treasure RV Resort for nine days by this time and I was ready for some outdoor-off-leash-long-walks-lying-under-the-trailer time. Don’t get me wrong, town life has it’s perks, like sharing an ice cream or playing in a grassy park, I just prefer the wide open spaces.

We’ve been here at the Lake Mead National Recreation Area four days now and my initial impression was bang-on. The tie-up cables haven’t even left the storage compartment and we’ve been walking the lakeshore and swimming every day. We got a second swim

Morning stroll and swim

in yesterday, in the late afternoon, and the strangest thing happened. Chico and I went in and got our legs wet and had a drink (I’d been lying under the trailer all afternoon so wasn’t terribly hot). When we came back on shore Nollind walked out into the water and started swimming, and then Teresa did the same! They swam out a ways and then turned to look back at us and I’m sure we were both staring with our mouths hanging open. I didn’t know they could swim, or even liked water other than showers and hot tubs. We walk in some pretty hot weather at home and Teresa never joins us in the canal. They called to us to join them but I think we were too shocked to do anything but sit and stare. They splashed around awhile, came ashore to dry us all off and we hiked back up the bank to our camp like it was an everyday occurrence. We went walking this morning and things were back to normal with us swimming and them on the shore watching. It seems more natural.

Final days of southern sunshine

It’s hot here, 32C yesterday and supposed to be a few degrees warmer today, but I’m either getting used to the weather down here or the thought of colder temperatures is making the sun feel a little more inviting. I’m sure by this afternoon I’ll be in the shade but that Nevada sun is feeling pretty fine this morning. Maybe my bones can soak up enough to get me through a cool, damp spring if we have one. I hear we’re headed that direction tomorrow so I don’t have much time. We have sun at home of course, it’s just not as warm at this time of year and there’s always the threat of snow and cold when you live just east of the Rocky Mountains. We can go from sunbathing to snow shovelling so fast it’ll make your tail spin.

Three days in the truck – not sure how that’s going to go. Well, actually, I have a pretty good idea. But I am going to try to find that Zen space I slipped into on the way to Yuma. I’m a brave guy. How hard can it be?

Logan's Oasis

Logan's Oasis

I don’t know how he did it in this dry, treeless place but, against all odds, Logan managed to conjure up water and shade and sand for our stop after Borrego. Nollind sometimes says T has the ability to conjure things up, like barn cats, so maybe Logan learned it from her. We weren’t five minutes out of the truck and he was in the river…and swimming! He’s half lab so that shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise except that he rarely swims. Back home on the canal, Logan goes in the water about as far as he needs to to cool his feet and quench his thirst. He’ll swim if there’s an urgent reason to get to the other side, but otherwise, just in until his belly touches. But at that camp spot along the Colorado River he was in up to his neck and paddling around like a puppy. 

Heading in for a swim at Logan's Oasis

He’s a good guy my roommate, although I had to get to know him before I thought so. T and Nollind and Logan came to pick me up for a temporary stay with them until Misty Creek Dog Rescue could find me a permanent home (turned out they were it!). I’m the same colour as their Appaloosa horse Nevada, which is why T noticed me amongst the many photos of dogs on the Misty Creek web site. Anyway, they took me for a little walk that first day, I think to see how Logan and I would get along.

Nevada - see the resemblance?

That went well so off we went in the truck. I didn’t know what the heck was going on when Logan started shaking and panting and drooling in the back seat, so I put my paw on his head and sent him my best “hey dude, relax, we’re fine” vibe. It didn’t work, but I think he appreciated the gesture. It wasn’t until we got to the house that things went a little sideways, he wasn’t crazy about another male dog on his turf and I don’t like being pushed around by alpha dogs. So, I peed on one of his walls, sent a strong message I thought. He hurried over to lay down cover and, oops, was spotted by T who gave him a right royal scolding. Funny thing was, things got better after that, and with each passing day I developed a stronger respect for his quiet, alpha ways and his farm wisdom. I’d had many bigger, male dogs try to intimidate me but he never did that, just quietly let me know he was in charge.

Cottonwood trail walk

So there at the Colorado River I was happy to see him find the oasis in the desert he’d been dreaming of. He gets hot much more easily than I do, and his pads get sore on the rocks and, although he’s tough as nails in many ways, he is 11 and not the resilient guy he once was. I still put my paw on him in the truck now and then and it still doesn’t make him okay, but I think he appreciates it, like I appreciate his friendship. You see, a lot of dogs don’t seem to like me very much for some reason, but he sticks by me, even when we’re playing and I just can’t seem to stop myself from barking in his face. He could bite me, or growl, but he just stops and stands and pulls his ears back against his head (probably because I’m hurting them) and waits for me to shut up.

Working on my sunset appreciation at Kelso Dunes

We spent two days at Logan`s oasis and he got to swim both days, lie in the shade of the big trees beside our camp and walk on sandy soil through a forest of cottonwoods along the river. Yes, cottonwoods! Only Logan could conjure up cottonwoods in the middle of the desert. You could see the light come on in his eyes and he`s been happier ever since. We spent the next few days at the Kelso Dunes and the hot sun didn`t seem to faze him.

The Death Valley photo I'll show my friends ;)

We`re at an RV park in Pahrump, Nevada now and it`s been pretty relaxing. It seems this is T`s oasis and she`s gone over to the swimming pool every day. One day she and Nollind headed off to a place called Death Valley, one of those national parks down here that doesn`t allow dogs anywhere beyond the parking lots. It sounds like it would have been way too hot for Logan (+38!) but I don`t mind the heat and would have loved to go along. They left us in the trailer with the air conditioning on and Logan was in heaven. It was a bit on the chilly side for me at just 22 degrees Celsius.

Each of us lying in our favourite spot

I prefer to lie in the sun when I have the chance. I guess that`s why one of my nicknames is “Sunny D”.

A Little Desert Weary

Borrego campsite

It’s been my kind of travel these past twelve days – one campsite, plenty of walks, off-leash freedom, and minimal truck time. We’ve been camped here at Anza-Borrego State Park since February 25, well technically just outside the park near Clark Dry Lake. It’s been just about perfect, we even had some cool, rainy weather for a few days which suited me just fine. It’s turned hot the past couple of days, around +30 in the afternoon, which is too hot for this black dog. If we were home I’d go lie in the basement on my futon in this kind of weather. Here I lie under the trailer but, unless there’s a breeze, it’s not nearly as cool as that basement I'm dreaming of. I think I’m starting to feel a little homesick, missing my farm and my daily routine there. I hope things haven’t gotten too out of control without me there to keep order. I hope my girlfriends across the road haven’t forgotten me. What am I saying? Of course they haven’t. 

Ruffwear boots made for ruff terrain.

The walks here have been rocky so they’ve been putting boots on me every day. In case some of you are thinking I’m soft, here’s a picture of what we walk on each morning in the hills for an hour or two. Not sure how my little red friend does it without protection, but my pads just won’t stand for it. I’m looking forward to going bootless on the prairie, or maybe even before then if we travel to places with friendlier soil.

An afternoon at Christmas Circle

We did find one little reprieve from the harsh desert, Christmas Circle Park in Borrego Springs. After weeks of mostly sand and rock, green grass felt like the most luxurious of carpets to lie on. We spent an afternoon listening to some live music in the park and were back again for a market a few days later. I wasn’t excited about the market idea, too many people, but it wasn’t so crowded that I was getting stepped on and many of the people seemed interested in saying hello and giving a pet. And, of course, there was that lovely grass and plenty of shady places.

At the Farmers' Market.

On the patio at El Borrego Restaurant

I’d have to say they’re generally pretty dog friendly in the town of Borrego Springs with a couple of the restaurants even allowing us on their patios. On market day we had lunch at El Borrego, a Mexican restaurant just off Christmas Circle with a huge, shady patio that welcomes those of us with four legs. The patio even has a carpeted floor and it doesn’t get much dog friendlier than that. The people were nice, and apparently the food was good. I’m not much of a shrimp taco or bean eater so I passed on any of the offered bites. Chico, of course, sat and stared through Teresa and Nollind’s lunch and then went to the end of his leash and stared down the neighbours after that. I don't know why they take him out in public. In the photo at the market you can see him pulling toward something, very likely a food vendor. 

Play time on Clark Dry Lake

The Anza-Borrego State Park is much less dog friendly, not allowing us on their trails even with a leash on, something about us scaring the Bighorn Sheep away. I suppose it’s possible, but I doubt it given the number of coyotes in the park. We hear them every night and I’m sure the sheep do too. If canine types were going to chase them out of the park by simply walking on their trails, they’d be long gone by now. And, from what I hear, big cats are a much greater threat than any of us from genus canis. But anyway, the rules is the rules and Teresa always scouts out places where we can walk.

Mel and her tiny human

The day we were listening to music in the park we bumped into a friend of Nollind’s from the sailing club who happened to be travelling through Borrego with his wife and baby on a two-month trip. They were sure surprised to see each other. Frank and Mel and the little guy brought their trailer up to Dry Clark Lake and camped a short distance from us, they shared a couple of meals (including steaks which was great for Chico and me) sat around the fire and went off on some hikes. I’m not normally a big fan of tiny humans but, you know, this one was alright. Usually I find their movements and sounds too unpredictable for me to be comfortable but this guy was always held by one of his parents and was mostly quiet other than a few burbling sounds. Apparently humans are pretty helpless (and therefore harmless) at four months. I'm not surprised.

Ouch!

Two days ago it was bath day followed by a short drive to the State Park campground where they dumped and filled tanks. I’m thinking that means we’ll be headed out soon. It’s been great here but between the hot temperatures and the piece of cactus I picked up this morning, I think I’m ready to move on. I’m hoping for a cool, shaded oasis with sandy trails and a place to swim.

Lettuce Isn't Food

Getting ready to meet the people!

Fountain of Youth Spa (FOY)--what an awesome place to study human behaviour. I can lie in camp and watch people go by all day long and then meet half a dozen in one short trip to the bathroom. You’ve heard the Michael Bublé song “Haven’t Met You Yet”? My theme song. Anyway, the RV park has 1000 sites, more than 100 in the dry camping area alone! That’s where we camp, at the top of the park, in the dry lot. It’s not fancy but it’s close to the trails and the sunset views are fantastic. 

FOY sunset.

I’m learning to appreciate sunsets, even though my eyes can’t see the same spectrum of colours that human eyes can. Sunset watching is a daily ritual at FOY, as is morning walking, afternoon napping and evening pool time; although, pool time was for humans only. How I would have loved a swim after our morning walks in the desert. The rule is “no dogs within 20 feet of any building”, which just seems downright prejudiced to me. I’m much tidier and better behaved than many humans I’ve met, especially the small ones. Now don’t take that the wrong way, I have an inexplicable fondness for the little guys, and I don’t think it’s just because of the height at which they hold their food.

Exploring an abandoned cottage on one of our hikes.

Food, there was a ton of great food while we were at FOY. With the exception of the little on-site cantina, Freddy’s Fountain, it’s an hour to a restaurant so all eating was done at the trailer, which was perfect for me. You see, I’m doing my best to sample and develop a taste for all human food. I eat things Logan won’t even look at and, you know, most of it’s pretty good. Fruit, vegetables, bread, condiments, you name it, I’ll eat it.

Contemplating life.

How many times have I heard T or Nollind say, “He probably won’t like that because it’s all covered with...insert condiment name”? Admittedly, some of them are a bit odd, like pickled things, but not terrible. Now there is one human food item, and a common one, that I just can’t seem to develop a taste for. It doesn’t even taste like food, just sits there all cold and flat on my tongue. Lettuce. When it’s dripping with salad dressing or tucked inside a piece of burger it goes down more easily but I continue to try it undressed. My thought is, if I’ll eat anything they do and can sit in a chair, one of these days they’re going to set a place at the dinner table for me. One day…

Ready to go to work.

One of the other ways I get to try human foods, and help around the house at the same time, is to pre-clean the dishes. The instant I hear a plate or bowl or pot being scraped, I am there to assist. And I know they appreciate it, especially out here in the desert where we need to conserve water. They call me Pre-Wash. Not every dog has a work title, so I’m pretty proud of that. However, there is one kitchen tool that is hindering my work and competing for my job, the spatula! As soon as I get my paws on it, that thing is history.

On the job - pots are hard work.

After a week of hanging at FOY we headed to the city for a few days and stayed in another casino parking lot, Fantasy Springs in Indio. It was noisier than Quechan, right on the I10, but there was plenty of room and a nice open desert area to walk in next door. I assumed the city meant a bunch of trailer time for Logie and me but did I get a surprise. The second day T & Nollind took us along (all day!) and one of the stops was PetSmart. OMG–I was in heaven, getting to do my own shopping. Now they didn’t buy everything I picked out, but I understood, given our slightly small living space at present, and the fact that PetSmart has EVERYTHING a dog could want. For that half hour I felt like being a dog was maybe okay after all, and there were other dogs in there doing their shopping too, almost like we were equals for a moment. Sigh.

At PetSmart

T and Nollind had late lunch at a Mexican place and we were allowed there too, but it wasn’t going to be very comfortable on the hard, tile floor of the narrow patio, and the truck had a nice shady parking spot so they decided we’d be happier there. Probably true for Logan, he’s getting old and doesn’t like hard surfaces to lie on, but I would have sat on broken glass for a chance to get in on the ceviché and quesadilla. I’ve never had either and I love seafood. Logan doesn’t much like fish so he would have been grumpy all-round. I think I’d have even tried the margaritas...if they'd offered.

Top of the trail at Homme-Adams Park.

We ended the day with this great hike at Homme-Adams Park, where the trail took us up a hillside that looked out over Palm Desert below. Wow, what a day. When T and Nollind headed out dancing later that night I didn’t even mind. I was content to stay home and sleep. And okay, I admit, dancing kind of freaks me out a little. I never know what to do when they dance.

Play time at Anza-Borrego

We left the Coachella Valley yesterday and came here to the Anza-Borrego desert. We were already off leash for some play time last night and again today. Freedom! Nothing makes me feel less human than being leashed. I have a good feeling about this stop and I hear we’re staying awhile.

Hiking, Horses and Hazardous Places

Hiking Majestic Trail

Wickenburg was hiking, hiking and more hiking, but don’t take that as a complaint…absolutely not. I love to get out and walk, and trot, and run, or just go at whatever pace my leash allows. Here in the desert, I don’t actually mind the leash, because it’s often too warm or rocky or filled with spikey plants to want to do more than a slow jog anyway. We spent nine days camped near Wickenburg and we hiked for two hours every day, and only once did we cover the same trail. Wanderlust doggie paradise! Some days we did two hours in the morning, other days an hour in the morning and another hour around sunset. I sure appreciated the attention to walking in the cool hours. Have you ever tried wearing a black fur coat on a hot, sunny day? Ya, well, I don’t recommend it. When I was young it seemed like a smart idea to be well-dressed for any occasion, but that was before we started spending winters in the south.

Crazy big spurs on the way to Congress.

Another plus about the stay in Wickenburg…no truck time other than a short road trip to Congress, Yarnell and Peeples Valley. And it wasn’t so bad, just 20 miles or so and a nice walk around Yarnell before lunch.

The horse camp.

For two days the camping area across the road from us filled to the brim with horses, horse trailers and horse people. If I wasn't such an honest guy, I'd tell you I was hoping we were joining in on one of the trail rides, ready and raring to go, but I wasn't. Following a group of horses through the desert in the heat all day was not something I was keen to do. I was so relieved when Teresa and Nollind just watched them ride by as they headed into the hills. Embarrassment averted.

Oops, didn't realize the camera was above me.

On our last day in camp, Tuesday, I was lying on the couch when I heard a familiar sound. I could hardly believe my ears. It sounded just like our old truck, the one we drove south the last two trips. But how could that be? Chico heard it too and wondered if it had somehow followed us. Right dude, that’s what happened. He’s so young. Anyway, we all went outside and there it was, Rocky the Chev. Even more surprising was who climbed out…our friend Darren! What a terrific surprise! I was sorry he hadn’t brought Roxy with him (one of my many girlfriends) but happy to see him nonetheless. It was a day of hanging in the shade and visiting followed by a long walk late in the afternoon up to Vulture Peak.

Post-hike nap.

The drive to Yuma on Wednesday was remarkably relaxing. I’m not sure what came over me but I seemed to find some kind of weird zen state and didn't suffer the usual uncontrollable shaking and panting. I think I even nodded off for a bit. But don’t tell Nollind. I don’t want him thinking I’ve stopped supervising his driving. No telling what would happen.

Smiling like fools after Mexican food and margaritas
in Los Algodones.

For the next three days we stayed in the Quechan Casino RV parking area just across the border into California and a stone's throw from the Mexican border. I hardly slept. Did you know that the Canadian and U.S. governments have had travel advisories in place for Mexico for years, especially the border regions? And where do my people decide to set up camp...a 5-minute drive from the border crossing to Los Algodones. They even went down there one day, leaving Chico and I at the trailer. I spent the day devising a plan for our rescue if they didn't return. They did, laughing and smiling and carrying packages. You'd think they'd just been on a little shopping outing. You know, I started to believe their assurances of safety until the smoke and gunfire started. Seriously...there were clouds of smoke billowing into camp from the Mexico side of the border and on the last day regular gunshots coming from somewhere to the south. It may have been still on the U.S. side but it didn't matter to me. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. Teresa opened the truck door yesterday morning and I almost knocked her over jumping in.

We've moved further north now, to an RV resort on the Salton Sea that we visited last year. The air is clear and so far I've not heard a single shot--slept like a puppy last night.

Boondogging

Since we’ve known each other three years now, I’ve decided to let you in on a little secret…I’m studying to be human. People think I’m just friendly and devoted, which I am, but I’m also closely observing human behaviour and communication. I know, it probably sounds crazy, but last winter T read a book called “The Art of Racing in the Rain” about a dog named Enzo who believes that if he learns enough in his dog life, he’ll come back as a human. Sounded like a reasonable theory, but I guess I’m not that patient; I want to get as close to human as I can in this life.

First bath of the trip.

I still have a lot of canine urges that I may never overcome, but travelling has done just what people say it will, expanded my thinking. It’s part of the reason I love these trips, so much opportunity to learn about being human and leave my farm dog tendencies behind on the farm. For example, one of the human-like things that happens while we’re travelling more frequently than at home is taking showers. I’m a pretty clean guy, not indulging in the disgusting canine habit of rolling in foul smelling things, so I rarely get a bath at home, but living in such close quarters without green grass or snow to roll in, apparently I develop a bit of an odour, an odour they’ve compared to corn chips and also to socks. Don’t see what’s wrong with either of those things, especially corn chips but, whatever, a bath results in one of my very favourite experiences, being towelled dry. A lot of dogs prefer to give a good shake and dry in the sun, but I love the towelling…oh my…could do that all day. And afterward, apparently I smell better, less like a dog, which also suits my purpose.

Campsite near Wickenburg.

We left Quartzsite on Monday morning and drove two hours here to Wickenburg. Birds, rabbits, lizards, coyotes…this place is amazing. But, even though we’re out here in the boonies, my freedom has been curtailed from what it was at Quartzsite, something about jackrabbits and cactus being a bad combination is what I’ve pulled from the conversation. They’re probably right, as hard as I try to just observe as humans do, it’s almost impossible for me to not give chase.

Hiking at Vulture Peak.

We’re boondocking, which Wiktionary describes as “to stay in a recreational vehicle in a remote location, without connections to water, power, or sewer services”,  about six kilometres from Wickenburg but, looking around, you’d never know we were so close to town. There are a couple of horse campers across the road and three RVs on this side but quite a long way from us. There’s not much but saguaro, mesquite, palo verde and cholla around us, and the odd quad or side-by-side headed up the road to the trails that snake all over the area. We’ve been on longs walks the last two mornings, exploring up around Vulture Peak, with many more trails to cover while we’re here.

Nollind plays bass at Plomosa Road.

It might sound kind of boring hanging in the desert but, not at all. Nollind plays his bass and sometimes T plays along on guitar and sings. I'm tempted to sing too but so far they haven't asked me to join in. They both like to read and do quite a bit of that and, when possible, I’ll read over a shoulder and pick up what I can. I wish they'd just read out loud. Some days T or Nollind, or both, will take an afternoon nap and that's the best. I can lie on the bed anytime but it is a million times better when my people are there too. And then there's sunset viewing along with a campfire, one of my favourite times of day.

Aaaahhhh...an afternoon nap.

When we’re outside, Logan likes to lie under the trailer. It’s cool, it has that nice, den-like feel that appeals to dogs, but you’d never find a human under there unless there’s something to fix. So, on our first trip south I sat and stared and whined until they figured out what I wanted…my own chair. It would be so much simpler if I could just talk but the shape of my tongue (long, flat and loose) makes that impossible, or so says Enzo. I’ve developed quite a large vocabulary of sounds but none of them sound like human words. Anyway, I now have my own chair that comes out with T and Nollind’s chairs at every campsite. Success!

Sunset time in camp.

This year T added a blanket that acts like a hammock, keeping me from spilling out between the arm and the bottom (and it makes a nice cover on a chilly evening). Now, don’t get me wrong, I can sit upright, I’m just more comfortable curled in a ball. I can strive to be as human as I want in my mind and behaviour, but I do have certain physiological limitations.

My very canine response to a threat.

Okay, I suppose I deserved it. I told you about Logan’s bingo dauber episode at Lethbridge, and he shares my embarrassing donkey moment. But, in my defense, I was just trying to like what T likes and I saw her petting one of them. Sometimes a guy has to do frightening things when on a quest for greater knowledge. Logan disagrees with me on this but then he’s very content with his dogness.

I’m not sure what we’re doing this afternoon. Since we stayed in camp all day yesterday I’m betting on some kind of outing. Hopefully it’s the kind that dogs can join in on. I do like to ride along and glean what I can.