We've just had five nights away in the motorhome and it has got to be the warmest UK stay ever, with the temperature exceeding 30 every day. I was certainly one hot dog. However, I owe much to the Boss's training manual, 'Sit, Stay, Roll Over', which emphasises the importance of getting your folks to put their dogs first in any given situation. When the motorhome was in transit, the air conditioning was switched on with one jet of icy air aimed at 'Them Indoors' and the other firmly pointed at yours truly. It was so effective that 'Her Indoors' started complaining about having cold feet, but I was too busy making sure I was perfectly aligned with the outlet to take any notice. Hasn't she heard of socks?
When on site, the heating system can be adapted to blow cold air rather than hot, and it comes out of vents just at the right height for small dogs. 'Him Indoors' had also made a rather timely investment in a camping fan so that was directed at me too. 'Them Indoors' rightly identified that I was the one stuck with a permanent fur coat, although there's a lot less of it since the unlocking of Nicky, the grooming lady. Still, I got preferential treatment which is, of course, only right and proper.
'Them Indoors' had also sorted the water bowl dilemma. They appreciate the importance of me having access to fresh, clean water at all times, but find that a water bowl in a small space often gets knocked or trodden in which they find tiresome. I do too for that matter. I don't want feet in my beverage; I'm a fur with standards. Anyway, social media, in the form of the Facebook group 'Border Terriers that Camp' came up with a good recommendation: a Prestige non-spill water bowl with a sort of floating lid and a rim that is frankly human-proof - no mean feat, or foot for that matter.
Motorhoming offered the usual pleasantries to a seasoned traveler. There was the divine right to the last sausage on the BBQ, as decreed by my worthy predecessor, which I benefited from every night. They even cooked me my own special sausage when they weren't eating them, which I think evidences a very high level of training on my behalf, further refining that instigated many years ago by the Boss. Then there was the opportunity to meet and greet other furs. As I can be a bit reactive, this can be a dubious pleasure, but I was the model of good behaviour on this occasion. 'Her Indoors' thought it might be pushing our luck when a couple turned up on the next pitch with three dogs: a Leonberger like we have next door (roughly the size of a small donkey if you haven't met one, but much more hairy), a British Bulldog and, just to prove their European credentials, a French Bulldog. I was swiftly moved inside just in case and, unfortunately, we moved on the next day so I was never able to see if I got on as well with this Leonberger as with the one at home, ol' fluffy wuffy. He's now actually called ol' cheesy fluffy wuffy after one of 'Her Indoors' friends accidentally referred to his breed as a Leerdammer!
In spite of the heat, I managed to get out in my Teddy trailer, towed behind 'Her Indoors' bike. There are several advantages to this. Firstly, it is nice and cool with the wind flapping through your ears and secondly, all the women love me because they think I am especially cute! We did see another dog owner with exactly the same trailer, but he was off to the supermarket and was using it for the shopping. I might be casting aspersions on his character, but I suspect the intended purchases might have been heavy and clanking a bit, not something that is true of the intended occupant.
The move to a new site was via 'Her Indoors' parents for a socially distanced BBQ in their garden. We haven't seen the seniors since February, due to lockdown, so it was particularly nice to visit them. They are fine, fur loving people, so I always enjoy my visits as I get plenty of fussing. Our arrival coincided with fish feeding time in the garden pond and I wasn't sure about that to be honest. There were all those scaly critters just below the surface, so I did what any self-respecting terrier would do, stood well back and barked. The fish didn't take any notice however, which further enhanced my suspicions.
Anyway, at the site I met a nice fur called Alfie, of a Labrador dispositions. Him and his hupeeps had come all the way from Strathclyde and his humum walked her dog in pink fluffy bedroom mules, which quietly amused 'Them Indoors'. Alfie made a bid for freedom but made the mistake of coming within sight of our motorhome, so 'Her Indoors' went and grassed him up to his folks who chased after him, his humum still in her footwear of choice, yelling across the field in broad Glaswegian accents. It was all very dramatic, and I watched interestedly until Alfie was caught and taken on the walk of shame, with a scolding ringing in his ears, back to his own caravan. Apparently, he had run away whilst they were busy making his tea which seems like a tactical error to me. Perhaps he didn't like what was on the menu, but I find that difficult to believe; he's a Labrador!
Still, we're back home now. Our return coincided with a burst water main and no water, but fortunately 'Her Indoors' had read about it on the village Facebook group so they were able to bring water home in the campervan tanks. I pity the poor guys digging up the road to mend it in all the heat, but they managed to get the water back on by bedtime which allowed 'Them Indoors' the luxury of a shower.
Things are now back to what passes for normal in our house, but we are away again, for a longer trip, later in the year, so I shall start looking forward to that. I do enjoy a motorhome adventure.
Cooling off in the shade
One of those sausages is mine so I'm just keeping an eye on it
Looking cute in my Teddy Trailer