Saturday, February 7
Bridget and I didn’t move camp as I said in the previous post.
I should know by now not to tell you what we’re going to do, because I really don’t know what we’re going to do until right before we do whatever it is we end up doing. (Feel free to reread that sentence slowly until it makes sense.)
With good reason. My decision to move camp was a reaction to a day of traffic in Yuma. Once I returned home and became rational again, it occurred to me, through the urgings of a few commenters to this blog, that I should take advantage of Yuma’s ample selection of RV service businesses.
That would be the adult thing to do.
I realized I should make an appointment for the refrigerator to be serviced, instead of childishly screaming out the window of the Perfect Tow Vehicle while racing across the desert for the purpose of putting as much sand as possible between us and Yuma. (Again, a re-read might be necessary here.)
Hummingbird Bob (you know, the guy who camped here, the one who took those incredible hummingbird photos) had some maintenance work done at a place called Sun Bum RV and he was happy with them. Bob found out about Sun Bum from a recommendation given to him by Starlight Solar. (I had solar wiring done there a few years ago.) The name “Sun Bum” does not inspire confidence, but these recommendations do.
I have an appointment at Sun Bum RV for Monday at nine o’clock.
The Best Little Trailer’s refrigerator will be checked and cleaned. More about that after the appointment.
Four miles west on I-8 is a very convenient rest stop near the Gordon’s Well Dunes area that has trash dumpsters and a drinking water spigot. This availability of water allows me lavish use of water around camp that I wouldn’t have otherwise, being boondocked in the desert.
For instance, I can wash out a few clothes, which dry in a few minutes in this dry heat, because I know I easily can obtain more water. By the way, I really need to go to a laundromat, but I’m not going!. I’d rather wash clothes by hand than make a special trip into Yuma. Anyway, as I was going to say about the photos . . .
Right before getting on the interstate to go to the rest stop for water, I stop at the dunes to let Bridget play in the sand. That’s where I take the photos you see in this post.
Bridget has a great time!
She twinkle-toes in the soft sand.
Before Interstate 8 was built people had to drive around the dunes, either into Mexico, or by way of Brawley. Both routes were a pain. (“Drive through Mexico to travel in the U.S.? You’re kidding me, right?”) The northern route through Brawley was also a pain because it had people driving across Mammoth Wash,where a flash flood could cause an unexpected and dramatic detour.
Something had to be done!
A person, who shall remain nameless, suggests putting brush down on the sand for the cars to drive over. Although a blatantly stupid idea, folks jumped on it. Brush was put on the sand. Cars drove over the brush.
“Well, that was dumb,” they said.
Not as good as an interstate highway though, but a whole lot better than driving over brush.
Hard to believe, I know. I mentioned being “preoccupied” and having to deal with “problems.”
One of the issues has to do with Bridget.
I didn’t want to cause any upset (although I’ve been accused of creating drama here…. Who? Me?). About two weeks ago, upon waking in the morning, I notice Bridget’s face doesn’t look right. One side looks normal and the other side looks like a wax model of Bridget that’s been sitting in the sun. There’s this droopy bulge below her eye.
“What the heck is THAT?”
Over the next few days her face becomes increasingly weird. A lump the size of a marble grows under her eye. It’s under the skin. Nothing shows but this big bulge. Needless to say (but I’m saying it anyway), this causes me great distress.
It doesn’t bother the Bridge at all.
She shows no signs of discomfort or pain. No nasal discharge. No change in her eyes. No sneezing. She eats well, chews normally, enjoys our walks, plays in the sand as you see in these photos, and sleeps deeply as usual. Typical Bridget behaviors, 24/7.
My gut tells me to wait and see. This uncertainty stalls the search for a pup again, because I don’t want to introduce a family member if Bridget is in for an ordeal of surgery and an overnight stay at an animal hospital.
I want to give Bridget all my attention.
Yesterday the damn thing opened up and drained! The bulge is almost completely gone!
Bridget and I are enjoying this camp.
Here’s a photo of the road to our camp and our nearest neighbors.
“Summertime, summertime…. sum, sum, summertime!”
Temperature highs are in the mid-80s and lows are in the 60s. That’s sleep-with-the-windows-open weather. Walk-outside-in-a-cotton-nightie-to-look-at-the-stars weather. And when walking the desert with your best pal, it’s shorts-and-sandals weather!
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