Friday, May 22
“C’mon, Bridgee! Don’t you want to walk with us?“
I’m outside the Best Little Trailer tugging on Bridget’s leash. She’s sitting in the open doorway with her butt glued to the floor.
“It’s a beautiful morning, sweetie. It’ll be nice. Come with us!”
“Okay then. Have an attitude. Reggie and I are going without you.”
I remove her black suit and leash. She jumps outside. I shut the door.
“Goodbye, you stubborn girl!”
Reggie and I take the trail that parallels the Deschutes River.
We did take a drive into La Pine. I bought some groceries and poked around inside the thrift store without buying anything. We also cruised through some neighboring campgrounds and walked a few trails.
A Class A camper came in and parked away from us. They stayed two nights. If it weren’t for the pleasant smell of their campfire, I would have forgotten they were here.
I wonder if they’re being frugal or being desperate.
Over four years have passed since I made that life-changing phone call to Casita Travel Trailers in Rice, Texas, while holding the travel trailer brochure, dog-eared from weeks of studying and dreaming over it.
Jonathon, the Casita sales rep, helped me decide what options I wanted. I remember the thrill when I placed the order for the Best Little Trailer. I’m going to do this! I really am!
I still have moments when I find it hard to believe that I am “doing this.”
The supply of water obtained at the state park on the way to this camp made washing dishes possible. I had built up a collection of dirty dishes while conserving water.
I set up their beds nearby because the ground still holds the damp and cold from the previous night. They relax while I wash and dry the dishes.
Reggie is having a great time! His little noggin is turning this way and that, anxious to see what’s what, sniffing this and that, jumping over logs in the trail . . . .
Little logs, not massive ones like this.
Then we hear a distant bark. Bridget! I bet she’s sorry she didn’t come with us!
Reggie hears her and stops his sniffing to listen.
Reggie pulls on the leash to follow the sound of Bridget’s wails.
Together we run the path, the path we were strolling a few moments before.
“We’re coming, Bridget!”
“We’re back!” I call out as Reggie and I approach.
Bridget turns her head away and looks around nonchalantly, as if our appearance is nothing that interests her.
She wants to.
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