Living In An RV Park

The last time I wrote I promised to tell you about life in an RV park. Here goes.

Mom and me and the Little Bastard (Arlo) have been living at the Casa Grande RV Resort in Casa Grande, Arizona. We live in a Class C motorhome. Mom says that not all RVs and not all RV parks are the same even though they all look the same to me. But all RV parks have rules. And not all of the rules make sense.

For instance, any time I’m outside, I have to be on my leash. That really cramps my style. Mom says that some parks don’t allow dogs at all or have certain areas that are off limits to dogs. Can you believe that? It is incredible that we still suffer that kind of discrimination in the 21^st century in the United States. Also, there is some weird obsession with poop. There is a rule that Mom has to pick up my poop. If she doesn’t we could get kicked out. That seems a little harsh to me. There are even signs up that ask us to report people who don’t pick up poop. People seem to enjoy rules – why else would they have so many? Mom does like the free poop bags and she gets annoyed when the dispenser is empty. She says there ought to be a rule.

Most of you know that I don’t really like to have other dogs in my space. Except for Ruger. He’s OK because he recognizes that I’m in charge. So in my opinion, the biggest con about living in an RV park is all the other dogs. I get that people like to have us around. I’m actually suspicious of people who don’t have a dog with them or at least a little dog smell on their clothes. You can’t ask for a more loyal friend and most of us are good travelers so I’m not surprised by all the dogs. It’s just a big adjustment for me. I’m 14 and I don’t like adjusting. There is a Sheltie here named Miley. We get along OK. There are a lot of little dogs. I get in trouble for barking at them even if they bark first. Some of these dogs pee in my area. That has meant a lot of extra peeing for me. I know you know what I mean.

Not all the dogs here are little. There are some big dogs including a couple of air head Golden Retrievers. They think life is just one tail wagging, tongue lapping lark. Neither of them have done a serious days work in their lives. Then there’s a dog called a Mastiff. I don’t know what that means but she is one big dog. Even though Mom doesn’t think so, I do know that I’m short and being next to the Mastiff really drives home the point. Down the street from us is a dog called a “Dorky.”  Mom is embarrassing when she sees him. He is a Yorkie, Dachshund mix. I say big deal. There’s a puppy here named Amigo. I’d kind of like to play with him but he’s so wiggly and squirmy. And cute. Yuck.

Much to my surprise a lot of people have cats in their RVs. You know that Mom insists on keeping Arlo with us and I’ve always kind of thought that he’s embarrassing. But unlike me, he has to stay inside. I’m not sure why except I think Mom is worried that he wouldn’t find his way home. He’s about as smart as a piece of rawhide. Here’s the shocking part. Some of the RV cats wear harnesses and are walked around the park! One of them even gets pushed around in a stroller. 

There is a homeless kitten here that Mom has been feeding but she can’t catch it. She says she wants to get it fixed and find it a home. Arlo and I have both told it that’s what Mom has in mind in gory detail because there is no way that we are getting another cat. We have scared the kitten so much that he won’t let Mom get close to it. And she’s still feeding it! What a trout!

As far as what this place is like, there are some trees and some pretty plants. Unfortunately the plants are up high so I can’t pee on them. That’s pretty much the only dirt. There is row after row after row of RVs, fifth wheels and trailers that all have big tires. The streets are all paved and every place else is gravel. I don’t like to walk on gravel. The asphalt makes my feet dirty but that bothers Mom a lot more than it bothers me. There is a grassy pet area which I assume is nice. But since I have this little control freak issue, I don’t get to go there.

This place is full of comedians. Mom and I have heard every short joke known to man. Mom smiles at everybody and says ha, ha. It makes me mad because people don’t understand that my form fits my job herding cattle. OK, I’ve never herded a cow. I have smelled them and I think I would like to herd them. Or at least eat their poop. Anyway, I guess it stands to reason that when most of the people have nothing to do but wash their RVs and keep track of what everyone else is doing that you are going to meet some jokesters.

Mom likes this place because it has a nice swimming pool. I love to swim and on these hot days I’d really like to take a dip in the pool but I have noticed that there are “no pet” signs there. However, there is an exception for service dogs. Hello? Herding dog. Companion. Chief of RV Security. I think I qualify but Mom never takes me.

Well, that’s pretty much what life in the RV park is like. It’s not bad, I guess. I’d like to get to come and go as I please and poop without Mom standing there with her bags but it’s entertaining to watch the dogs and the kitten and people. And Mom and me are together. That’s huge.

Oh, remember all those comedians with their short jokes? My favorite thing is to stop in the middle of the street when I see them coming in their cars and pee. Sometimes I pretend to pee even if I don’t have to. Now that’s funny.

So, take care and bow wow.

Your friend,

Pearl