Our dog Riley is an eight year old golden labrador retriever. (This is a label, not a description) After our kids grew up and made their own homes, he became our topic of conversation, and constant source of entertainment.
A year ago we gave up our stationary jobs as property managers and took to the road in a motorhome. Our first destination was North Dakota. Riley was confused, but trusting (at first). He curled up on the couch and slept most of the three days it took to get from Nampa, Idaho to Devils Lake, ND.
We parked at Ackerman Acres right beside the lake (wonderful spot, Neal and Roberta Ackerman are great). Riley, not being fond of water, ignored the lake. He was far more interested in the small rabbit that hopped out of the trees in the evenings. He would sit as far as his leash would let him in the driveway, holding very still so the rabbit would not see him. Of course it did see him, but it seemed to know that a dog on a leash is safe, so it came pretty close and teased him a lot. He was ecstatic when he discovered a baby robin under the trees behind the motorhome. He checked on it several times a day and watched it out the window when he was inside.
By the end of the first week he was ready to go home. He began following me very closely, and talking a lot in his funny little way. Every night when we turned out the lights and settled into bed, he flopped down on the floor in front of the door and made a huffy little sound that said, "Fine, I will wait one more day..."
I thought that he would eventually settle down but I was wrong. He wants to travel. He sometimes gets into the pickup and will not get out. He weighs about seventy pounds, so he usually wins that argument. Now that we are back in Idaho, he watches us very closely. If I put on my shoes, he leaps to his feet and dashes to the door of the motorhome, then wilts when I sit down with my coffee. He sits in Carl's chair by the window and wags his tail at every diesel pickup that drives through the RV Park, certain that Carl will hop out of it. When Carl finally does, he is thrilled.
He likes to go outside, but only for a bit, then is ready to come back inside. He knows that our house will move again and he does not want to be left when it does.
