Things were a little odd around my house a couple of weeks ago. I couldn’t quite put my paw on it, but something was up. Mommy was spending a lot of time in the kitchen. At first she was making human food . . . not that interesting. And then she started making dog treats, which really got my attention.
She carefully packed all that human food and those yummy-smelling dog treats into this big red box. Wherever that big box was going, I wanted to go with it.
Then my travel crate appeared. I was definitely going somewhere . . . hopefully with that red box filled with dog treats.
My humans spent a lot of time studying this book. (Just for the record, my humans also looked at maps on the computer and on their phones. They’re not that old.) Hmmmm . . . why would my humans need to look at maps? Were we going somewhere new?
And then Mommy pulled out this little accessory. Could it really be true? Were we really going to the beach? Was I about to check an item off of my Golden Bucket List? I didn’t dare get my hopes up, but I must tell you that I was starting to get more than a little excited.
I was slightly less excited when, exactly one week before Thanksgiving, my humans gently nudged me prior to the break of dawn and whispered, “Miss Harper Lee, it’s time to wake up so we can start our excellent adventure.” It was still dark when we loaded my chariot. The chickens across the street weren’t even awake yet. That didn’t seem to bother my humans. We were off, and I was pretty happy that I have chauffeurs and I could get a little more sleep.
It seemed as if we had just pulled out of the driveway when my chariot stopped. My humans were oddly excited about something. “Wake up, Miss Harper Lee. We’re in Mississippi. You’ve never been to Mississippi before. Wake up so we can take a picture of you in front of the Welcome to Mississippi sign.” Naturally, I obliged. I knew from looking over my humans’ shoulders as they perused the road maps that Mississippi has beaches. Was this our destination? Apparently not, because after a few quick clicks of the camera and then several minutes of walking around while my humans said, over and over again, “Go potty, Miss Harper Lee. Go potty,” we were back in the chariot and back on the road.
Next stop: Alabama. Fortunately for me, the state welcome center was closed, so I got to sleep a few more miles before we reached the temporary welcome center. The nice welcome center lady invited me in, despite the fact that my daddy was wearing an LSU sweatshirt. Alabama and LSU are huge football rivals. I guess the welcome center lady was feeling charitable because Alabama beat LSU this year. Anyway, Mommy spotted this big mural and said, “Miss Harper Lee, sit here and practice your beach pose.” Yes! I knew I was going to the beach! I couldn’t help but smile as mommy snapped my picture. And then we got back into my chariot and continued to drive.
At our next stop, I saw this sign. I was in Florida . . . land of sun and sand. Miles and miles of beaches. When would I feel the sand between my toes? When would I frolic in the waves? Who else would be there? And just exactly where were we headed? Stay tuned . . .
The most amazing and wonderful thing happened to me last week. My humans left the house (no, that wasn’t the amazing thing) and when they came home they had two new beds for me . . . plus a travel crate. That must mean that (1) they love me very much and want me to have a good night’s sleep (as if my very sound sleep could get any better) and (2) our trip to New Orleans to see my daddy run in his marathon is getting closer. Yippee!
The hotel where we are staying in New Orleans requires that their canine guests have a crate, and that they stay in their crate in their room when their humans are away. I am fine with that. I was crate trained as a puppy and I loved my crate. In fact, I still slept in my crate until a few months ago. I traveled to New Orleans once before with my humans. They brought my big, metal, somewhat awkward-to-manage crate and set it up in the hotel room. I heard much grumbling from my humans on that occasion, so I suspected that they would make alternate arrangements for this trip.
And voila! My new travel crate appeared. It is light, easy to carry, and the humans marveled at what a breeze it is to set up. I think my humans are very happy with my new travel crate . . . maybe even as happy as I am. I cannot wait for my trip!
You know how humans can be. When they go to the store to buy just one thing, they usually come home with at least one other thing. Such was the case when my humans went to get my travel crate. They decided that I also needed to have new beds. Now, I have written before about my beds, so you know how near and dear the old ones were to me. I had my den bed, my bedroom bed, my $64 bed, and my princess-and-the-pea bed (which was just my den bed placed on top of my bedroom bed). Well, I still have my old $64 bed (it’s the one you see inside of my new travel crate), but now I have a new den bed and a new bedroom bed. I am in heaven.
At first, I wasn’t too sure what to do with my new beds. That wooly top reminded me of a stuffed toy, so I tried to find the squeaky inside. I was quickly informed that chewing on the new bed in search of the non-existent squeaky is unacceptable behavior. Gotcha.
Then I had a little trouble trying to get my whole body onto the new bed. Don’t ask me why, I just did.
But, as you can see, I quickly figured out how to get my entire body onto my new beds, and I have been sleeping like a baby ever since. It’s good to be loved. Sleep tight, friends.