Hello. It’s me!

To The Management Team At Best Western Hotels:

I just wanted to take a moment to apologize for my destructive behavior this evening. I realize that you are promoting a “green environment”, one where you encourage your patrons to “protect the environment” and ask that your customers “conserve resources”. So my senseless destruction of precious toilet paper (a product harvested from renewable tree farms all across the Pacific Northwest, if I must nitpick here) runs counter to your entire corporate ethos.

On behalf of my family, I sincerely apologize for my instinctive senseless behavior. Please let me stay for the three remaining nights that we my Parents paid for.

Hello! It’s me.

See that tongue sticking out? It’s HOT down here. Was in the 90s yesterday. It’s like the dog days of summer, I’m tellin’ ya.

It was a big weekend, friends, I kid you not. For instance, I found a new piece of furniture. I didn’t take it home, however … it doesn’t recline.

It’s hard to tolerate the heat … well, let me take that back. If you take a lot of naps on a concrete slab covered in dead desert brush, you can easily stomach the heat.

But the big news of the weekend was the all-important Doxie show in Scottsdale. A couple of things happened … first of all, I met my cousin, named Squeak!

I loved Squeak. He possesses experiences I can only hope to acquire. And his Mom, the very sister of my Mom, well, she was so nice. What a great experience! #family

The Doxie event featured twenty or more pups from across the greater Scottsdale area. Get this … they played a game of musical place mats at the event … I finished in 9th place out of ten (I know, I know, that’s pretty good), earning a coveted participation ribbon.

But the biggest surprise of the event was the friend I made .. a “girl” friend named Ann. Like me, she’s just five months old … and like me, she’s highly attractive.

I asked Ann if I could buy her a drink … of tepid city water … she declined my advance, but as we know, it’s all part of the dance of love.

My love for Ann runs deep … but alas, our relationship was not meant to be. I am from Washington, she is from Arizona.

So I moved on, heart broken of course. I drank from the bowl of unfulfilled love, meeting other Doxies in the process.

I’m with you on that one … what the heck is going on there?

The crowd eventually dispersed.

We went home and enjoyed a salmon cook-off.

While eating salmon, my Mom mentioned to the gathered throng of omega three lovers that there were two judges at the Doxie event. Both asked Mom & Dad to not “get me fixed” for a year, because both felt that I was “show worthy”. I heard my Dad describe what it meant to “get fixed” and thought to myself, “that doesn’t sound like something I want to experience”. So while visiting another set of friends last night, I snuck away for some quiet contemplation … I don’t want to “get fixed”, whatever that means.

(By the way, at the residence pictured above, I touched noses with a cat … a CAT for crying out loud!!)

But my thoughts were quickly nullified when I found a patch of artificial turf to roll on (visit the website if you cannot see the video below in your email newsletter).

Anyway, that’s been the roller-coaster ride I’ve enjoyed over the past few days. It’s supposed to be 95 degrees today. Mom says we’re spending some quality time indoors. I’d rather be poolside, to be honest. Poolside with Ann.

Hello! It’s me.

That’s about how I feel these days. T-I-R-E-D!

It’s a non-stop romp-a-thon through Central Arizona.

I know, look at me. It’s like I am aging right in front of your very own eyes, don’t you think? I mean, there was a time when I looked like this.

Now my lower frame is filthy from the dusty environs I navigate on a daily basis.

My Mom was pre-occupied today in Sedona … she was playing a game of Flat Stanley, except it wasn’t about Stanley, it was about friends who could not join us.

Hopefully Kanye and Kim will be able to be with us next time.

Sedona is one of those five paw places … full of vortices that promise chakra-enhancing opportunities. I took full advantage, hoping to find peace through improvement of my Sahasrara chakra.

Or maybe it was the minor chakra Talatala, who am I to say?

Regardless, the strategy worked. I was at the peak of my game in Downtown Sedona.

Interesting side note regarding the image I just shared with you … we were standing out side of a Visitors Center when an interesting conversation took place.

WOMAN: Did you know that you can bring a dog inside the building?

DAD (Channeling his inner Sheldon Cooper): No, you cannot. The sign says you cannot bring a dog inside the building.

WOMAN (pointing inside): There is a dog inside the building.

DAD: I know, some woman decided to unilaterally ignore the wishes of the shop owner.

The woman goes back inside the building. She picks up the dog, and brings the dog outside. The dog belongs to the woman in the conversation. I immediately engage with the dog while Dad cowers in fear.

Moments later, I was right in my wheelhouse … sharing time with a veritable plethora of tots.

Mom and Dad and a friend went to a Milwaukee Brewers Spring Training baseball game yesterday. The “Hot Dog” won the sausage race … another victory for canines of all shapes and sizes. #sorrychorizo

As you can see, it’s a lotta fun out here in the desert. Temps are around 90, and the evenings are cool enough to get some quality z’s.

And, of course, when standing on a vortex in Sedona, there is an opportunity for quiet contemplation … a time to examine the first nine days of our trip. All in all, it’s pretty good.

Tomorrow, I hear we’re going to check out some “botanical” opportunities. What a great time to be alive and in a desert.

Hello! It’s me!

I am in sunny Arizona. A-R-I-Z-O-N-A!

No more peeking my head out of the rig to see if we are there yet.

No more demanding control over my own leash.

And no more curling up in the fetal position for eight hour days filled with potholes and road construction.

From here on out, it’s family (I hear my Mom has a Sister who sounds just like her – can’t wait to have my mind blown by that one), friends, and fun. Things are looking up!

Hello. It’s me!

Southern Utah and Northern Arizona are simply loaded with peaks and valleys. And brontosauruses.

We raced south at speeds exceeding those of a pace car in the Daytona 500.

We found snow.

We found bone-chilling cold.

After hours of peaks, we found a valley (or a canyon, you pick). I wanted to stretch my legs.

And stretch ’em I did!

I’m a big fan of the Colorado River.

Check out this one … #photobomb

I made new friends.

And I caucused with my peeps.

We’re closing in on our destination. After a long day of peaks and valleys, my consciousness descended into a valley.

Hello! It’s me.

Sure, Mom and Dad repeatedly pointed out the boundless beauty of the State of Utah.

Bugs on the windshield … that’s good stuff!

I waited patiently for my big opportunity.

And then … amid 64 degree temperatures, 15% humidity, and 35mph winds deeply rooted in a Pineapple Express, my sightseeing opportunity unfolded in front of my own eyes.

Disneyworld. Arches National Park. Petco. Those are the big three, friends.

Petco is a magical establishment, one where the ferrets frolick behind glass, the zebra danios thrive in a climate controlled environment, and pups like me can buy treats, chewies, and assorted flea medications. Now, you are under no obligation to buy anything. But let’s be honest. Five minutes in this store, and you’re walking out with all sorts of unnecessary gluten free organic smoked treats.

Which brings me to my favorite sight-seeing prize of the day:

Tomorrow, our trip takes us to Arizona. In just four days, we will have traveled from within miles of the Canadian border to within miles of the Mexican border. That’s a lot of miles. And dead bugs. I offer my heartfelt thanks to the residents of Idaho and Utah for legislating on my behalf #80mphspeedlimitssavetimebutnotgas

Hello! It’s me.

That’s the luxury and comfort afforded by a touring coach.

Here’s what is not so great about a touring vehicle. It seems like all we ever do is tour places where I am supposed to “go potty”.

Go potty.

I mean, this is Baker City, Oregon. It’s part of the original Oregon Trail, where pioneers made their way west on I-84 in their own touring coaches.

Go potty.

Go potty.

Go potty.

Go potty.

Go potty.

After reading that one, it was Mission Accomplished!!

Back in the rig … we crossed over into Idaho, where the speed limit is 80mph.

Today, I tried different seating options. My car seat leaves me feeling cramped, and when I feel cramped I don’t feel very happy, and when I don’t feel very happy, well, look out Mom!! The floor seemed to offer a comfortable option, sans a panoramic view of grey and drizzle.

Mom even went so far as to roll out all of the toys I routinely obliterate in typical settings.

We thundered about 35 miles past our projected destination … all the way to Burley, ID. Then, Mom and Dad went to eat dinner, while I was crated in the RV. #nothappy. Dad tells me he likes to eat healthy, so much so that he even brought back a few table scraps. Guess which portion of the dinner made up the table scraps?

Tomorrow, I’ll look back fondly on my time in Idaho.

We’ll spend Friday in Utah, and then make our way into Northern Arizona by Saturday evening. When you ride in a touring coach, like I do, the miles really do fly by. We have knocked down 750 miles in two days, plus an hour-long ferry ride. I now understand why the Pioneers enjoyed the Oregon Trail so much … with speed limits of 80 miles per hour, you could really cross the country in short order. And, they had fun along the way.

P.S. Did you see the precious cargo in the wagon above? It’s not often you see a leash held firm and horizontal, is it?

Hello! It’s me.

Mom and Dad packed the RV, which I though was an odd behavior since I really enjoy living in our home and why change a good thing, right?

A few hours later, we are thundering down I-5, heading toward Seattle.

Seattle yielded to Snoqualmie Pass.

And Snoqualmie Pass yielded to Ellensburg, and Yakima, and the Tri-Cities, and then the Oregon border, at the Columbia River.

See that on the windshield? That’s what 37 degrees and perpetual rain looks like … even in the deserts of Eastern Washington and Eastern Oregon.

The big thing about RV travel, as I see it, is getting comfortable. You have to find that sweet spot where your under-developed ribs can absorb a dizzying array of potholes at 73mph.

The other big thing about RV travel is eating. You cannot, I repeat, cannot ever forget to partake in a good sup. Dad brought me a tiny morsel from lunch. He read something on the internet about if you are going to leave your pet in a car unattended while you eat lunch, then you must bring a treat back, because dogs are pack animals who believe that the pack left to go hunting and will faithfully deliver the spoils of the hunt upon return. In this case, Dad apparently hunted down a greasy cheeseburger. What weapon do you use to hunt down a greasy cheeseburger? A spatula?

I learned that it is not the end of the world to spend ten hours in an RV. I passed my test with flying colors!

But then the big surprise of the day happened. My first hotel stay … at the Oxford Suites in Pendleton, OR. According to BringFido.com, this is a five bone establishment … and I’ll be honest, I didn’t have a bone to pick with the place either … initially. They supply you with your own water bowl and a pair of zippy dog treats. I quickly learned how to lead Dad from outside to our room (#memory).

But then, I started to wonder aloud … does this mean we abandoned our home? The fear began to work on my high-functioning brain. It was time to cause some trouble.

Can we go now?

Can we go now?

Can we GO now?

Can we go NOW?

Can WE go now?

CAN WE GO NOW???? Mom. Mum. Mummy. Mum. Mom. Dad? Somebody? Can we go now?

Mom and Dad were unrelenting in their steadfast support of a hotel that served two free drinks, a free salad and soup bar, and morning breakfast.#thefinerthingsinlife>dash.

I took out my frustration on this wonderful shirt that my Grandma sent me #noharmnofaul #iamappreciativeofmygifts #iamsorrygrandma.

You are darn right I was a hot dog … hot as in angry! Exhibiting behaviors reserved for only the most undeserving of owners, I embarked on a ninety minute tirade designed to get us to go home, a place where I am fully comfortable in my own settings. I mean, this hotel clearly overcompensates for the fact that they don’t have a fireplace by serving free drinks.

I miss my fireplace.

And then?

Then I gave up and slept. I mean, why fight it?

Mom and Dad can apologize tomorrow by serving me some of their free breakfast.

Hello. It’s me!

Here’s how I view the world. In this, the rainiest winter in Pacific Northwest history, I simply assumed that God was responsible for a multi-time-per-day cleansing. Make it happen Yahweh!! I’d go outside, and anything from a steady drizzle to a thorough gully washer would cleanse the embedded soils, mosses, and Ritz crackers from my fur.

Did I smell like an old sock? Of course. Was the odor unpleasant to anybody? Highly doubtful.

Needless to say, when Dad tricked me into an inescapable corner of the hallway and picked me up, I was expecting a fourteenth trip outside in the rain to go potty.

I did not expect to be dumped into a shallow sink, soaked with tepid well water, and then lathered in a mix of sodium laureth sulfate and cocamidopropyl betaine.

Lather, rinse, repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Then a dry-down with a towel. That wasn’t so bad.

Needless to say, nobody wants to be coated in a mix of sodium laureth sulfate and cocamidopropyl betaine. The video below outlines an appropriate response (visit the website if you cannot see it via email).

Hello. It’s me!

Spring has arrived in the Pacific Northwest. A record-high temperature of 64 degrees, and several days with only intermittent rain allowed Dad and I to have a series of adventures.

For instance, Dad cleaned and prepped our RV for the big trip to Arizona next week. My role was to watch out the door for interlopers.

Now, sitting and doing nothing for two hours while Dad used toxic chemicals to scour a motorhome is fun, don’t get me wrong. But I wanted something more out of life. So I asked Dad … CAN WE DO SOMETHING, PLEASE?

Fortunately, I can communicate via telepathy. It doesn’t always work. Yesterday, for instance, I wanted to sup on a luscious piece of string cheese. I performed my mind meld on Dad.

But Dad somehow misread my intentions, and told me to go outside and go potty. Angry, I took out my frustration on a towel (visit the website if you cannot see the video).

The whole ordeal exhausted me.

Anyway, back to the story. Dad took me for a ride … TO THE PHARMACY!! I waited patiently.

I thought visiting the pharmacy would be more fun than it was. So I asked Dad if I could drive? One problem. My feet could not reach the gas pedal.

We headed home. I inspected the route … yup, this is the way home, Dad.

When we got home, I enjoyed a little deck time on a day of record high temperatures.

All in all, I had a great time. I was exhausted.

I need my rest. Dad tells me we’re driving 1,450 miles to the south next week. I thought the 2 mile trip from the pharmacy to home took an eternity!