A Dogs Tail
*dictated by Lhotse the dog.
Ruff, Ruff, Ruff and welcome to my report on living in a van. First off, thank you mom and dad (yes Grant you are my dad) for taking me on an adventure of a lifetime. After spending countless hours in a van, I never want to live in a house again! Also mom, thanks for typing for me. Those keyboards are sure tricky with these paws.
When we first started out, I had no idea what was happening. I was so scared thinking they were taking me to the vet or back to the pound (dad always threatens to send me back when I am a bad boy) that they had to pull over to let my IBS out. I have now learned to always poop before any long drive and am much more relaxed. My seat is located on the floor which is great except I can never see anything and I don’t know where we are going. Dad always says he will let me know when I am needed. Don’t worry, I always sneak up onto the chair whenever someone gets up.
As of today, I have traveled to 24 states, Canada, and to the Mexican border. Unfortunately, we didn’t hop the fence and cross the boarder because I have heard they have excellent quesadillas. It is difficult to put into words (let’s be honest I am a dog) what the past 5 months have been like. I won’t go through to many details because I get easily distracted by smells.
Until this fall, my whole life has consisted of Colorado and I wasn’t sure what to expect when we left. After seeing the spectacular grey fall foliage and vivid grey sunsets in the northeast, I now understand why dad wanted to be there for the autumn. I love mountain lakes but when we were in North Carolina, I didn’t understand why these big lakes were chasing me. I was hesitant because of the waves and how salty it tasted but once I realized it was water, they couldn’t keep me out of the Atlantic Ocean.
The east coast was great but nothing compares to the west where I can roam more freely. You wouldn’t believe the hikes I have accomplished. Every day I was either running in snow or rolling in sand. They say all dogs go to heaven. They must mean all dogs go to Utah. Dad and I are pretty agile on the rocks, climbing like mountain goats, but mom struggles. She is more like a mountain cow. I don’t have a good concept of time but dad and I are always waiting for her.
My absolute favorite thing about living in a van is spending 24/7 with my favorite humans. My mom, who is the sensitive one, is constantly loving me by cuddling with me and telling me what a good boy I am. My dad, the more adventurous one, is always taking me on hikes and even lets me be his photo assistant. Dad always tells me that I am so spoiled and that I live a better life than the dogs owned by the King of Persia. I don’t know what that means but I think it is a compliment.
They keep talking about moving to a place called Montana after living in a van. As long as the two of them and the van are there, I am in! Gotta go...some dog just peed on a bush and I need to let them know who is boss.
