I don’t know if I told you, but Dad really wanted to “wing it” on the way home. In other words, he wanted to just call up campgrounds the day of a visit, and generously be granted access at any of America’s four-paw campgrounds.
But now we’re closing in on July 4. And school has been out for several weeks. This means, unsurprisingly, that a lot of people are camping. Most of those people, FYI, made reservations. They made reservations a long time ago, pups.
So our travel plans blew up this morning – no vacancy anywhere! Fortunately, our campground had one spot … one spot … two doors down from where we were. We tore down the rig, packed up, moved eighty feet north, and set back up again. Given the events of the day, we made today “chore day”. You know, groceries, laundry, getting my nails trimmed, that kind of thing.
Coincidently, Dad became highly motivated to reserve campgrounds for the remainder of our trip. From here on out, we’re dipping down to Jackson, Wyoming (to see the Grand Tetons), then scooting across Southern Idaho, Northeast Oregon, and finally following the Columbia River north into Washington. We’ll arrive home early next week.
Yes, we’ll be home next week.
That simple fact is starting to sink in. Mom and Dad are checking ferry schedules, and figuring out how to unload the rig next week. Dad is checking the weather forecast for the July 4 weekend. Times are changing. A seven week trip is winding down.
Nonetheless, I remain vigilant. With a free day to relax, I spent my time watching the neighbors. I’ll be honest, I’m a crafty corgi. I’ve learned that there is a great deal to be observed by simply looking under the rig.
Did you notice how I curled my back left leg in just a bit? This enables me to push-off and chase away any threats as they become apparent. On this sunny, 75 degree day, nobody bothered to mess with me.
When Dad told me to sit inside the rig for a while, I remained vigilant.
Look at my right rear foot. Just look at the pressure I apply to the leather couch. At any moment, I can spring up, and take on a perceived threat. You can’t bottle the energy I have.
Anyway, I’ve gotta get outta here – it’s nearly 5:30pm, and that’s dinner time. Each day, I try to mind-meld my Dad into giving me dinner early. At minimum, I remind Dad of the critical importance of a balanced diet, served at or before 5:30pm. And yes, I am able to adapt to time zone changes. I’m that wiley, pups. After dinner, Mom and Dad are going to go see a local presentation of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat (click here). I heard the play is biblical in nature. Here’s hoping nobody gets smoted in the play.