Living with the Enemy

We're living in the motor home while my people are looking for a new stationery home for us. So, we are living nextdoor to some of the grandkids in an RV park. That is fine with me BUT with our other family comes Hunter, the cat!

I just kept hanging around him and turned on my GR charm. Finally, he decided maybe I was OK.

I thought for sure we were on our way to becoming friends. The very next morning, Hunter disappeared! Everyone hunted all over the park but Hunter was no where to be seen. He was gone for three days.

The consensus was, Hunter was not coming back! It could've been that he got in someone's cabinet which they closed without realizing the cat was inside. Or maybe a hungry hawk spotted him.

Peyton and Garrett were so upset. They went to Daily Vacation Bible School and said a prayer for their missing cat. The next morning, Mike, Dana and I went for our early morning walk and who did we see? Hunter! He was eating cat food that some kind-hearted RVers gave him. They thought he was a pet because he was so friendly - well, he is to people, not so much with dogs. Anyway, they were packing to leave and weren't sure what to do with him; they were sure happy to find out he belonged to someone. So, Dana picked him up and took him back to our spots on the other side of the park.

But then what happened? That cat forgot all about our new friendship.

So, I have to start all over with hij. Oh well...

Oops!

Just realized – I missed last week. Lots of action - a visit from Mike’s mom (from Kansas), Mike’s UCLA eye appointment (surgery seems to be healing nicely) on Thursday, and then a nephew’s wedding over the weekend. Now, getting back to a normal routine…

We did travel a bit in the motor home – down to see the kids and grandkids so great-grandma could visit. I relaxed – a lot!

Tried gravitating food from a new victim’s plate







Got pestered by my new cousin, Fifi

Of course, I was left behind for the UCLA trip, but I heard Dana complain about the traffic, so it was probably just as well.

I didn’t get to go to the wedding either - the way it goes for most dogs. At least I didn’t have to go to the kennel - like Kramer did! So, all in all, it was a good week.

See you next time…

Hanging Out in Buellton

Every once in awhile, a dog needs a change of scenery, so we went to Buellton/Solvang.

We stayed at Flying Flags RV Park. It is close to the Chumash Indian Casino, Solvang, a lot of "Sideways" was filmed around there (so lots of wineries to visit as well as the restaurants, etc., that were in the movie), Monty Roberts (Horse Whisperer) has a ranch on the road between Buellton and Solvang, there's the ostrich farm and, of course, Andersen's Split Pea Soup Restaurant.

The RV park itself is pretty nice. The spaces are fairly nice size (especially for California) and the grounds are clean. Besides a lot of RV and tent spots, there are five rental cabins and good-sized rental tents in season. They have a nice size pool with an indoor and an outdoor jacuzzi - a waterfall for ambiance. Mike and Dana ate the BBQ the park put on Friday night and were surprised at how much food you got for $12 and it tasted good! (I can actually attest to that because Mike kept slipping me bits of his.) There's a nice playground for kids as well as an arcade and a nicely equipped work-out room.

But the best part for me - the dog park. They have two small ones, one that's split in half with a roof for cats (can you imagine) and a nice big off-leash area. (I made some new friends in that one.)

These were Golden Retrievers, too, but they sure were pale! (English Cream) The two pups were 10 months old and the "oldster" was 15!

Then I met Mojo - she was my kind of gal!

(Don't tell my Wednesday night girlfriends!)

We had a wonderful time but one of my favorite things about staying in the motorhome is how close everything is:

(You can't tell in this picture, but that last Little Smokie was trembling on the plate...)

We had a wonderful time last week - hope your week was fun, too!

Other Pictures from Santa Cruz

Santa Cruz was a great place to visit!

We walked through the Redwood Grove Nature Trail at Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park where there are magnificent old growth redwoods - awesome! Pictures just don’t do this area justice, nor can I describe the overwhelming peace you feel as you pass through the trees. One word of warning - all the vegetation in this park is protected so DON’T pick any of the wildflowers! Kids that don’t read (and some grownups who must have a problem with comprehension) were bawled out by eagle-eyed rangers, who were nice about it but firm with their lecture.

In this park, dogs are allowed on the Meadow Trail at Hwy 9 and on the Graham Hill Trail from the campground; both trails lead to Pipeline Road, a 3.3 mile paved road closed to public vehicles. Dogs are also allowed in the picnic area and campground but not the river or streams. They must be leashed at all time.

Of course, we went to the world-famous Boardwalk - great fun to see and the grandkids loved it, but I didn’t take my camera. (Don’t know how I forgot that.) I had really wanted to ride the carousel, which was celebrating its 100^th birthday but every time we went over by it, it wasn’t working and people were trying to fix it. Well, what can you expect from such an old piece of running machinery? Walked over to the pier for lunch at Woody’s - a cool joint. That evening, watched Lost Boys since it had been filmed at the Boardwalk. Warning - the movie shows Nanook, the pet husky, at the walk, but don’t take your dog because there is a NO PET policy in place - no dogs allowed.

On Friday we rode the Roaring Camp & Big Trees Narrow-Gauge Railroad, which dogs can ride on and Archie loved, as he told you last week. It was great fun riding an old train through the redwoods and listening to the piped-in narration about the area we were seeing.

We made the17-mile drive at Pebble Beach while we were in the area. Wow - if you ever get a chance, check this out. The area is really worth seeing. We stopped at Shepherd’s Knoll, Huckleberry Hill, Restless Sea vista point, Point Joe, China Rock, Bird Rock, Seal Rock, Fanshell Overlook, the Lone Cypress, and the Ghost Tree.

 

The day before we left, we visited Natural Bridges State Park - kind of a misnomer since there's only one bridge left after years of erosion. We got there at high tide so couldn’t totally see the one “natural” bridge that remains. We walked over to the butterfly trail and it had been damaged in the last storm and was being repaired, so couldn’t see much of that either, although it really looked intriguing. I did find a T-shirt made in the USA so bought that.

 

There is a lot to see in Santa Cruz -  I put it on my list for a return trip!

Hanging Around the RV - Part 1

Being furry - I don’t have to worry about clothes - like where to put them. Mike and Dana don’t have fur; they are always looking for clothes hanging places around the RV.

Sometimes their clothes get wet, they never seem to know when it might rain. When their clothes get dirty, they take them off to wash them. When my fur gets dirty, it’s still on me when it gets cleaned but I like water so that’s OK. I’ve heard Dana tell Mike, “Don’t put that one in these dryers - it’ll shrink.” I’m glad that doesn’t happen to me! I don't think I'd like shrinking fur.

Some campgrounds have rules about hanging clothes outside of the motor home; that means they have to find places inside the RV for their clothes to air dry. Other times, Dana has to look for places to hang clothes because, Mike says, she brings too many.

To dry clothes, sometimes, they pop the rod out of the shower, hang a couple of “S” hooks from cabinet handles and set the shower rod in the lower hook. (Dana says you can use a dowel instead.) If your clothes are really wet, leave them in the shower long enough to finish dripping or else the couch or dinette will get wet. When the windows are open, clothes dry even faster.

Of course, if you only have one or two things that need to air-dry, you can just hang it on the cabinet. Another place that works for a hanger is the shelf the TV sits on in our bedroom.

Now, if you’re lucky enough to have two slide outs, which we don’t, you can put a spring-loaded shower curtain rod between them. Then you can hang up quite a few things that won’t be too noticeable when people walk by your RV. Before buying a rod for this, be sure to measure the distance between the two slide-outs to get a rod that’s long enough to work.

This is Genie & Mark's 5th wheel and her idea, actually.

Dana’s nickname is the “Gadget Queen” - Uncle Rick calls her that. She is always finding interesting contraptions and some of them come in pretty handy, even Uncle Rick admitted that. Anyway, here's an umbrella type drying stand that folds in and contracts to a small size for storage. It can be used outside or inside on the dinette table.

When it comes to storing, Dana says the shower works great for a place to “hang” clothes, especially the long ones - until you need to take a shower, that is. I notice Mike and Dana do that a lot. I don’t know how they get so dirty - it seems to take a lot out of their playtime. Anyway, Dana puts the clothes in a garment bag to keep them safe from renegade drips.

If you don’t want to move your clothes around to take a shower, then you can use the TV shelf in the bedroom again, if you have one. Dana says it it comes in handy for extra hanging space. She uses garment bags there to keep the clothes together and protect them from stray golden retriever hairs, although I’m not sure why she cares about that, I think my hair is quite fetching.

Then there’s always the old stand-by, the over-the-door hook. Dana has one on the bathroom door. It can hold an outfit or two, but she usually hangs bags, her camera or a jacket she doesn't want to put away.

As for me, if I can't hold it in my mouth, then it's not worth taking!

What's Going to Happen to Me?

Mom ready for her talk at
 The Well Red Coyote, 3190 W. Highway 89A - Suite 400in Sedona, Arizona

Archie helping Dad with his morning devotions.

We just returned from an eye-opening trip with my folks to Sedona. I am so blessed that my parents have lived long enough that I have gotten to know them, not only as a mother and father, but also as friends.

We have been on several motor home trips together. The first one was was a previous trip to Arizona, about five years ago, because my mom was participating in a book fair in Prescott. Since we helped them set up, I asked how they were able to do it when we weren’t around. She said someone always noticed two old people struggling with their gear and would come running to help. (Side note to anyone out there that might have helped them out over the years, thanks!) While Mom worked her booth, Mike, Dad and I had a great time checking out nearby sites, sometimes leaving Mom at her table too long, as we were promptly informed on our return. The next day, we made a perilous drive from Prescott to Sedona through Jerome - after which I told my husband, “no one can steer finer.”  Literally, I could touch the sides of buildings when I reached my hand out the window of the motor home. There was also an interesting encounter with a tour bus coming from the other direction - talk about a tight squeeze. Once we arrived at the campground, we enjoyed it so much that we didn't leave.  When we finally headed into Sedona for Mom's next talk and got a look at that landscape, needless to say, we wished we'd ventured out sooner.

There was a trip to Sacramento, just for fun. We checked out the auto and train museums, as well as some of the great restaurants and shops. We stayed at a KOA there and were so impressed with how much nature there was in that urban setting.

Another time, we happened to be in the midwest just as a writers' convention Mom was participating in ended. So, we swung by and picked them up. It was fun riding home together, stopping for a couple of days in Colorado to enjoy the mountains and even a little snow, in the first part of June.

For one of my birthdays, they met us at Lake Nacimiento, memorable because the air conditioner in the motor home broke. My folks live in an area where it is hot, hot, hot in the summer, so they were accustomed to the heat. My husband and I, on the other hand, live on the coast where it rarely gets over 80 and boy, did he whine. (I prefer to suffer in silence and wish those around me would do the same.) Even so, it was a fun trip because we were in the water most of the time. While we were floating in the lake,  Mom and I even got circled by a buzzard. We decided we better move around a little more so he’d know we were still alive - we waved our arms and after looking at us a little closer, he flew off. I also think of Dad cruising by himself across the lake on our PWC (personal water craft) with a big grin on his face as the rest of us motored back to camp in my daughter's boat.

We’ve made some great memories together in the motor home. There is, however, a down side to spending time with my parents at this stage of their lives - a peek into my own future. I have been truly blessed because I remember my mothers’ grandparents (my great-grandparents) and my own grandparents but their physical limitations didn’t mean too much to me at the time, after all, I was young and didn’t really think too much about the aging process.

It’s a different story now. Being closer to 60 than 50, tends to change your perception. My mom is only 19 years older than I am, so my future, their present, is not all that far away, especially if the next 19 years go as fast as my last. My parents are both still bright and articulate but, physically, they are having a hard time getting around. This was really noticeable on the motor home steps - so much so, one of our camping neighbors pulled Mike aside and told him they’d almost had a heart attack watching my mom go into the motor home. Since I had tumbled out of our old motor home once (which, luckily, was built closer to the ground than this one), I laid down the law - they had to hold on to the handle when entering or leaving. They mind pretty good, so I wasn’t too worried about them getting hurt, even though it was scary to watch. I noticed as the week progressed, their agility actually seemed to improve, so maybe the key to being spry into your 80's is to keep RVing. At least, that sounds good to me!

Hey - Don't Wreck It for the Rest of Us!

We visited Yellowstone National Park last year and we weren’t home long before there were TV news reports of bison charging people. It didn’t surprise me, having seen how some tourists act around them.

The landscape in Yellowstone is awesome and, sometimes, includes wild animals. Don’t worry about missing an animal near the roadway as you drive along; traffic comes to a complete stop if there's anything to see. Since bison don’t usually stroll through our neighborhood, we were happy to stop, too. However, some tourists didn’t take as much precaution as I would with a stray dog.

There was a mother with several young children, crouched behind a bush to get a closer look at one bison munching away on the other side. Did she think that bush would provide protection if he decided he really wanted to be alone while he ate? At another section of the park, people walked on a boardwalk while, a few feet away, a bison ambled along beside it. We thought maybe they knew bison don’t like to walk on boards. Wrong! The beg fella just stepped right on up and over to the other side - after using the boardwalk for a chin scratch.

I think we're safe up here, don't you?

Ahh, that feels good!

Bison are magnificent animals, easily ascertained from the relative safety of your car; you don’t need to get out and examine them. Young men seem to have an uncontrollable urge to leave their vehicles and walk beside bison - at least we kept seeing them do that. Are they performing some age-passage ritual? This behavior could have had a real impact on us since we were stuck in the gawking traffic. If the bison had become agitated and charged, we would have been collateral damage since, at the time, we were sitting in our tow car which is probably smaller than most of the bison in direct line of impact.

One day, as we drove to different geothermal sites, we came to an area full of deserted trucks and equipment. Everything looked like it had been quickly abandoned, which it had been, due to a “buffalo” break. One big bison had wandered over to check out the job they were doing and the workers quickly got out of his way. Now, if people who are in the park daily and see these animals on a regular basis scramble for cover, shouldn’t tourists?

Garrett & Peyton demonstrate the safe way to approach wildlife - in the museum.

  Many people who get “up close and personal” with the wildlife, usually do so to get a better picture. With today’s cameras and computer programs, just how close do you need to be to get a “good shot?”

Archie knows the only wildlife
you should approach. 

The news clip stated that the stomped-on camera-holder, the recipient of one charge, was on the mend, thankfully, but mentioned there had been three other recent bison attacks in Yellowstone, each one a result of tourist actions. Considering the number of people who cruise through there each year, that is actually a relatively small number. However, any violent run-ins between wildlife and humans are going to make an impact on innocent bystanders who happen to be there and see it. So, please, think before you get out of your car; don’t wreck it for the rest of us.

All pictures of bison displayed in this blog were taken from a safe distance in my car.

RVs and Dogs

What would possess someone to take up RVing anyway? For us, it was a progressive process, same with our dogs.

Our first camping trip as a married couple was after our baby was about a year old. We threw some sleeping bags, a cooler, a habachi and a diaper bag in our van and away we went. We had a little black dog, Cole, said to be a schnauzer mix, who had joined our family when the first owner could no longer keep him. Since some of the wild life was bigger than he was, he didn't really care for camping.



Cole - usually referred to as Mr. Cole

Soon after our second child, we graduated to a pick-up truck and a cab over camper because, well, all our friends had them. This was a transition period in our dog-dom, too - the only time in our lives that we’ve had two dogs at the same time. Cole was joined by a puppy from my sister’s dog’s litter because my brother-in-law fell in love with one of the pups and insisted that was the perfect dog for us; he was right.
A few years later, my husband became fixated on a motor home he’d seen at work - a 1972 Pace Arrow without a refrigerator.  Mike eventually got it. We stuck an ice chest in the big hole; worked for us. By then, our little black dog was gone and our puppy had turned into a big tan dog. Rocky, an Akita mix, who thought he was one of the kids, especially when it came to eating popcorn and going camping. 

Rocky with our kids on a camping trip.

Mike was so strict about dirt, that motor home experience wasn’t so great. He didn’t want any dirt on the floor - camping without dirt? I knew that wasn't going to work and the motor home became a memory.

So, we dropped out of the RV scene for awhile and as the years went by, our Rocky developed hip dysplasia. We watched as our poor buddy deteriorated until he could no longer stand and cried out in pain when his legs would give out. We still miss that dog.

Psycho Jane - because if you
 pointed a finger at her, she
showed her teeth!

A month later our son found our next canine family member, Jane, at school, dirty and scared. It appeared someone had dropped the pup, which the vet said wasn’t even 8 weeks old, to fend for itself. We never were sure what her bloodline was, although everybody made guesses from Doberman to greyhound. 

Not too long after that, we bought a personal water craft. Most of the time, we would just go out for the day at either the lake by my folks’ or the one by our kids’, both about 150 miles away. Every now and then, we would pack our tent and stay at a lake for vacation. On one trip, we finished in the water and came back to our tent site to shower and eat dinner. It was so hot, after our march back from the bath house, we were sweaty and ready for another shower. I started to fix our food and noticed my husband was sulking. When I asked him what was wrong, he pointed to a fellow parked below us in a motor home. He was relaxing in a chair, munching his popcorn and didn’t look the least bit warm. Mike said he was never going tent camping again. I thought that meant we weren’t going to take anymore tent vacations; I was wrong.


I did my best to point out the drawbacks of owning another motor home, including his behavior the last time we had one. I couldn’t convince him but he promised to behave himself this time around - the grandkids would be allowed to get it dirty. I resigned myself to this fact: our bank account was about to take a big hit. It didn’t take Mike long to find just the right motor home, a used 1995 Winnebago Brave.

Turned out, camping and traveling in a motor home was a lot of fun this time. Jane proved to be a great traveler who insisted on riding shot gun most of the way. When I would finally insist on a front seat, she would go under the dinette table and pout. Unfortunately, she didn’t live too much longer after we started RVing.

My husband said he wouldn’t get another dog and I said we weren’t getting another motor home; we were both wrong. As it turned out, my husband had always wanted a golden retriever and mentioned it enough that on Valentine’s Day, 2003, we brought home our pal, Archie. As it turns out, we bought our new motor home about a year later, a 2004 Itasca Sunova.

When we talk about traveling by motor home, some people like the idea of being at home wherever they go while others prefer room service. It’s a lot like the reaction we get when Archie comes up in a conversation - either people like dogs or they don’t. They either understand the lure of the open road and seeing what’s out there along the way or they don’t. They either get what a dog adds to your life or they don’t - simple as that.

Can I Get a Golden Retriever Fix?

Our traveling buddy, Archie, provides a very important public service. There are a lot of people out there, for whatever reason, just need to hug or touch a golden retriever - we call it a golden retriever “fix,” or “GR fix” for short. That oversized mass of fur seems to bestow a “feel good” sensation that some people crave or just seem to need.

Not everyone knows this, but heights make my husband very uncomfortable. One particular afternoon at the Grand Canyon, I went hiking with some friends who had made the trip with us. Mike took Archie for a stroll “on top” - far from the edge and ended up outside a souvenir shop where lots of people were milling around. About 4 or 5 women approached them. (Maybe this is where I should mention that Archie is also a great “chick” magnet, for anyone out there who might be needing one.) Suddenly, one woman broke away from the group and threw her arms around Archie. After a long hug, she looked up at Mike and asked, “What’s your dog’s name?” When Mike told her, she started to tear up and nuzzled down in Archie’s fur. “I can’t believe it - that’s my golden’s name and he looks just like your dog. I miss him so much.” She was visiting the Grand Canyon from Scotland and wasn’t able to bring her pet along.

Once, in Salt Lake City, we were walking around the campground when a couple waved us over to their site. They said, “We need a golden retriever hug; Archie was happy to oblige. They told us GR’s were their dog breed of choice and they had owned up to six golden retrievers at once. Now they lived in their motor home and no longer had any pets. I looked over at the size of their motor home, one of the gargantuan type, and wondered why not? Our motor home wasn’t anywhere near the size of theirs and Archie didn’t seem to mind the smaller accommodations at all.

At an Indian casino (that is almost a second home to us because it has a nice RV park and is located close to my son’s house), I was sitting outside playing cards with my oldest granddaughter. Mike was puttering around outside while Archie napped in the morning sun. A woman walked out of the registration office and headed straight for our site, arms open wide and a big grin on her face. She was even shouting, “I need a golden retriever fix.” Just before she threw herself on our dog, she asked if it was OK to hug him. Luckily, Archie loves affection, even from strangers, because I don’t think she could’ve stopped herself if she wanted to - she had way too much momentum going! During our conversation, we learned her golden retriever had recently died. She shed a few tears as she patted Archie’s head. After she perked up, she started talking about her grandson, who she had come to visit and lived in the area. Turns out, he is a well-known motocross racer. Mike had raced motorcycles since 7^th grade until right after our son was born, so he enjoyed getting the inside scoop on one of his favorite riders. She stayed and visited with us so long, her husband finally drove over and picked her up as he was leaving the park.

One favorite encounter was with a little boy in a motorized wheel chair. As we were out for a walk, the mother asked if her son could pet our dog. Archie had never been around anything like that wheel chair and Mike wasn’t sure how Archie would do. The young man was quite eager to feel our huge fluff ball so Mike decided he’d give it a try. Turns out, Archie didn’t seem to notice the chair; he didn’t even pause as he approached it. There was a big smile sitting on those wheels as Archie provided another “GR fix.”

We never know who Archie is going to bring into our lives and we aren’t always in the motor home when Archie casts his spell. Mike and Archie were on their way to Los Angeles in our truck. Anybody familiar with SoCal freeways knows you can come to a complete stop anytime and several times during a trip. As Mike and Archie were waiting for traffic to start moving again, windows rolled down so Archie could stick his head out and watch the non-action, a man in a Prius pulled up, leaned out his window and asked, “Hey, is it OK if I pet your dog?” Mike said, “Sure,” but didn’t pay much attention to who was asking/driving; he figured it was another bored driver looking for a way to help pass the time. The traffic finally started to move and the fellow said, “Thanks, man!” Mike looked up in time to make eye contact with Leonardo Dicaprio as he waved, big grin on his face, and drove away.

Another time, Mike drove me over to a health food store but sat in the car with Archie while I ran in to shop. Mike was kind of dozing, not really paying much attention to his surroundings, when a voice boomed into his consciousness, jerking him back into reality, “Hey, can I pet your dog?” Mike was surprised to find Tony Hawk’s face at the window. Archie got a pat, Tony stated he loved golden retrievers as he left to do his shopping. I passed the guy and never noticed the skateboarder extraordinaire. See what you miss when you don’t have a golden by your side?)

The story closest to my heart, though, did take place in the motor home. We took my grandmother on a week-long trip when she was 97. My husband was a little nervous because he was sure she was going to die while we were in charge of her. My main concern was Archie getting too excited and knocking her over. We needn’t have worried - Archie seemed to sense she was frail and he always was cautious when he approached her. My grandmother never was much of a dog person but she fell under Archie’s spell, too. Grandma would get settled in her favorite chair in the motor home and say, “Archie, come here.” He would come to her immediately, get a few pat’s, while Grandma would say, “This is the best dog ever!” She would then sit back and relax after getting her GR fix.