Author: Jeff Watkins

Introduction

Editors note: As mentioned earlier in this blog the Captain is responsible for correcting Coach’s spelling and grammar mistakes.  As I can’t spell my way out of a paper bag please don’t waste your time pointing out any mistakes to Coach, he doesn’t care. 

July 24

Well it’s been two weeks since the old man landed in Paris so it’s about time to update his progress with preparing Starsplitter III (SS3) for his up-coming voyage to the new world (although there have been reports from La Rochelle that he is finding enjoyment in the old world and may delay his departure indefinitely).

My scheme to have video cameras and live Wi-Fi (or wee-fee as they say in France) installed on SS3 by the Lagoon commissioning team (being a Brittany, I have a French Connection) has allowed me to keep an eye on the captain during his time aboard.  However, because he escapades ashore are often more entertaining due to his somewhat juvenile behavior I have succeeded in getting Joyce to program his new eye phone to transmit a live audio feed whenever the phone is on (we tried video but the only thing we saw besides the inside of his pants pocket were his obsessive google searches for news on the 2018 Jets draft class – he’s such a looser).

July 26

Today finds our captain and his crack crew of Joyce, Maury and Jim (last names withheld at the request of the crew) located half way between La Rochelle, France and A Coruna, Spain, steaming at 9kn for an arrival time of noon tomorrow.  The wind is non-existent today but is forecast to pick up later this evening.  They left LR yesterday at 12:29 and have motor-sailed the entire trip to date.

Based on my boat-cam observations, the Captain was born for life at sea.  He stays busy with the following activities: eating; sleeping; keeping a watch (when he can’t talk someone into taking over for him); staring at the stars (thus the boat name); jumping into the icy waters of the Bay of Biscay while SS III was stopped for oil level inspection; and more sleeping. He’s living the life while I’m taking care of his house and Woody, and that’s a handful of responsibility.

August 4

The captain and Joyce completed another successful passage from Vigo, Spain to Viana do Castelo, Portugal.  43 miles under motor for 85% of the voyage due to lack of wind.  Spain and Portugal are experiencing a stultifying heat wave with temps well over 100 degrees F in Lisbon extending north well into Spain.  The AC units on SS III are cranking out the cool breezes so the old man will stave off heat stroke as long as his generator works.  He and Joyce had no problem handling the boat for this passage.

 

My life in Annapolis is still pretty good considering I’ve been abandoned by my master for most of a six-month period.  Woody and a cadre of dog walkers (hats off to Hanna) have kept me fed and happy and I even snagged a bird the other day when Mark from “Time to Pet” was walking me in Eastport.  All I manage to catch when my person walks me are discarded chicken bones from the Royal Farms chicken outlet just a block from my house (what a great location; eight great places to eat and drink plus a fried chicken outlet within three blocks of our house) – life is good, if not short.

Back in Portugal, I see the old man working on our blog while Joyce is shopping in the old town.  According to Wikipedia, they sailed past the town where C. Columbus first made landfall upon his return from the Caribbean – so that must be true.

August 16

 As you know my last entry was almost two weeks ago, clearly my person is way too busy to share his daily activities with my fans (he apparently turned off the boat cam) although I really don’t know why anybody would waste their time reading about some senior citizen’s daily activities which include going to the bathroom 18 times and monitoring his position on the waitlist for the “Golden Years” assisted living facility in Key West.

He and Joyce, with the great help of Ann and Warren, successfully navigated the coasts of Spain and Portugal from A Coruna to Cascais, just 20 miles from Lisbon.  This voyage included a passage around Spain’s infamous Cabo Finisterre (aka “The Cape of Death” due to the many ship wrecks off its headland).  He made Joyce keep watch for the rounding as he was huddled in his cabin making sure he had plenty of rest for the remainder of the voyage.

 

I see that he just deposited his last crew members (Ann and Warren) at the fuel dock at the Cascais Marina and he is now alone on SS3 with absolutely no excuse for not updating his activities.  Joyce extended her stay an extra week at the request of the captain as well as Ann and Warren –  they all realized life on board without Joyce would be rather chaotic and unpredictable.  Worth a mention – Warren ordered sardines for dinner one night and had the entire wait-staff laughing at his poorly executed de-boning technique (sorry Warren, Ann reported this to me and promised to buy me a fresh chicken breast if I included it in my blog).

Cascais is unlike most seaside towns in Portugal, 20 miles from Lisbon, it incorporates the best elements of Monte Carlo, Palm Beach and Key West without the attitude of superiority characteristic of their citizens.  The architecture, beaches, great seafood restaurants and low-cost, high-end wine have combined to cause the old man to book a slip at the marina for the next 35 days. Visitors are welcome!

August 18

 Day three (or is it four) alone, and at anchor; I can hear the old man mumbling about how much he enjoys the solitude of life on the hook with no one around to point out his many missteps (it’s a good thing he is still not aware of the boat cam’s all-telling eye).

I saw him attempt some exercise activity yesterday as he donned his bathing suit (he thought about skinny dipping but there were too many women and children on the nearby beach and he wanted to avoid another incarceration – see last year’s Canada blog post). There is no gulf stream flowing off the Portuguese coast, so the Atlantic’s temperature here makes Ocean City water seem like the tropics.  His intention was to swim three laps around the boat and then drink some wine…he missed the swiming mark by 2.95 laps although he still drank the wine.  Swimming in ice water was how he described the experience.

As there are no public dingy docks in the area he is forced to pay the marina $10 for six hours of dingy-docking-time, including the use of the showers and laundry, although since his crew left I don’t think he has used either of these amenities. This may explain why, when dining on shore, his table for one always seems to in a breezy location.

August 19

Bill and Kay from Annapolis arrived in Lisbon yesterday and my person took the train into Lisbon to have dinner with them and check out their very spacious hotel digs.  As you know I only have audio capabilities when he is ashore so my reporting on his trip will not be the whole truth; because he mumbles to himself with increasing frequency it’s difficult for me to discern whether he is having a genuine human interaction or merely talking to himself.

I do know this, because he is alone at anchor he is required to remain fairly sober while ashore in order to successfully execute the following late night tasks: 1) find, board and untie the dingy, 2) start the motor, 3) identify SS3’s anchor light, 4) navigate to SS3 without hitting another boat or sea buoy, 5) secure the dingy to the retrieval system on SS3 and finally, 6) remember where he hid the door key.  Believe me, these may seem like simple tasks to most people but the old man is no spring chicken, so he feels a real sense of accomplishment when he is safely on board.

I remember when he told me about his good friend Andy (last names again withheld to protect the innocent) – who has a ton of boating experience and know-how – once boarded the wrong catamaran in a BVI mooring field after returning from a shore-side gig which included free drinks…“all cats look alike in the dark” was his excuse.

Photos from Cascais, Portugal

 

 

 

Being a dog, I’m not allowed to fly in a flat-bed seat to Paris with the old man tomorrow,;therefore I have installed a video camera in the cockpit of Starsplitter III.  He departs for La Rochelle, France  tomorrow evening and I will be monitoring his behavior on the boat cam upon his arrival. Standby for additional blog posts.

Sincerely,

Coach

8/12 – Granby – Grand Lake, CO

8/13 – Grand Lake – Boulder, CO (Marge and Jack’s house)

Joyce (my favorite person) arrives from Baltimore – true to form the old man fails to pick her up at the airport and makes her take an Uber (he offers to pay) but this is going to cost him big time.  He had a somewhat logical excuse but of course she wasn’t buying it.

8/14-15 – Boulder

We spent three days at Jack and Marge’s place in Boulder where I got to play with Gizmo and some other dog whose name I can’t remember (after all I will be turning 70 in dog years in December).  We all had fun while the old man worked on editing this blog – as you can see it has taken him almost another three months to finally post it (can he be more of a slacker?).

8/16 – Boulder – Grand Lake, CO

8/17 – Grand Lake – Saratoga, WY

 

 

8/18-19 – Saratoga

8/20 – Saratoga – Shoshone, WY

8/21 – Shoshone – Porcupine Campground, ID (Eclipse Day)

8/22 – Porcupine Campground – Salt Lake City, UT 

Joyce flew home from here – SAD, VERY SAD, I wish it were FAKE NEWS but not so.

8/23 Salt Lake City – Station Creek Campground, WY (Bridger-Teton National Forest)

8/24-25 –  Station Creek Campground

8/26 – Station Creek – Jackson, WY

8/27 – Jackson – Gros Ventre Campground, Grand Teton National Park

 

8/28-29 – Gros Ventre Campground

8/30 – Gros Ventre – Grant Campground, Yellowstone National Park

8/31 – 9/1 –  Grant Campground, Yellowstone NP – the following adventures all occurred in the park

Our next-door camping neighbors were a family of three from ….Washington State, Jonathan, Bridget and five-year-old Olivia. Of course Olivia wanted to meet me and tell me how cute I am (I hear this all the time but it never gets old) and the old man started chatting with Jonathan and Bridget.  I have noticed something of a pattern with this behavior – when he becomes bored with himself (which occurs frequently because of his dull personality) he scopes out the campground neighbors and ties my leash near the ones that appear most interesting and likely to invite him over for a drink.  If they have kids this tactic works 100% of the time and even with adults-only campers I am able to attract some positive attention most of the time.

He hit the jackpot with Jonathan’s family as they invited us over to their campfire to roast marshmallows and make smors.  Red wine was also included in the campfire scene so everyone had a great time.  As we said our good-bye the next morning they actually shared their address and phone number with him and invited us to visit their homestead where we could park our trailer anytime.  (My person mentioned to me that during his bachelor days he would often get ladies to give him their phone numbers only to find that when he tried to call the numbers had been disconnected).

The Fun Bunch

The Thursday afternoon “Fun Bunch” at the Old Faithful Lodge bar: Rocky, the President and CEO of the group; the somewhat overly talkative road construction guy who is 47 and has had two mid-life crises so far (no one asked for details); Beth, who makes a living as a musician in Madison, WI (symphony orchestra, salsa band and piano lessons) so she can put two sons through college without student debt; a gentleman from Montana who didn’t say much but was laughing along with everyone; and the retiree from Illinois/Indiana who didn’t want to drive west so he and his wife are on a bus tour.

With the exception of Rocky and Beth, we were all meeting for the first time and yucking it up like a bunch of over-served millennials (this information was reported to me by the old man during our 17-mile driver back to our campground – he was right on 45 mph the entire journey which made me happy).  He said he wanted to meet Beth’s son when we got back to Grant Village as it was his last night of work and there was a big party happening in celebration.  Of course he did’t even come close to finding the party and was snoring up a storm by 9 – he wants me to add that he fed and walked me before he fell asleep/passed out (he’s not a full-blown slacker, just a partial).

9/2 – Grant Campground – Dubois, WY

9/3 – Dubois

The old man last visited this town in 1971 when he spent the summer in a real life bunkhouse with 30 other student geologists all participating in a summer field camp.  They would spend the day tromping up and down the terrain hacking on rocks and pretending to be interested in the mineralogy and fossil content of the sedimentary and igneous strata of the Wind River region.  The rocks ranged in age from very old to quite young (he wouldn’t tell me the technical terms for the rock ages as he believes my audience is composed of many dull-witted unscientific people and he doesn’t want them to have to spend extra time googling the scientific terminology).

9/4 – Dubois – Some small town in western Nebraska

Heading home

Preface

Although we departed Annapolis on July 2, my editor is such a slacker that he is just now (late August) getting around to posting my 2017 blog entries.  He has no job, no house chores, no volunteer work and no one to ask him to do favors except when Joyce joins us, and it still took him 6+ weeks to organize this blog.  I’m just lucky he remembers to feed me twice a day.

Just a reminder to all of you grammar, spelling and punctuation nerds reading this blog – I am a dog and my editor was a geology major.

Sincerely, Coach

 

7/2 – Annapolis – Motel 6, somewhere in Conn

Motel 6! WTF are we doing in this fleabag place?  When we parked by the room here were two police cars with flashers blasting in the parking lot with officers banging on doors, probably looking for a serial killer or worse. On top of this, we were rudely awaken at 4am by the lady next door yelling to her drunken husband “leave this GD room or I’ll call the cops”. Needless to say we hit the road early that morning.

The need to stay in a Motel 6 arose from the refusal of the local Walmart to allow RV parking, we were not sure why but any Walmart lot would have preferable to M-6 experience.

7/3 – Motel 6 – Bailey’s Biker Bar & Campground, south of Portland, ME

 

Go figure…after an icky night in a Motel 6 room he books us into a biker RV campground complete with a very popular (among the Harley crowd anyway) bar, restaurant and music venue. There were non-stop bands all day and night not to mention the athletic looking biker lady who banged on his camper door wanting to borrow a hair dryer! I almost fell over laughing but since I was in my usual sacked out position there was no damage. Here is exactly how he answered the request:

First, he removed his hat to demonstrate his lack of need for a hair dryer and said, “I haven’t needed one of those since the 70’s but my girlfriend arrives tomorrow, maybe she will have one”. She flexed her tatted-up biceps and gave him a nice simile before retiring to her camper.

She and her friend (also an athletic looking female with several tats) had just ridden their bikes from Indiana to this campground in Maine. This is clearly a destination resort for Harley enthusiasts, most of whom were very friendly and having a great time dancing, eating, drinking and talking about their “rides” (when he mentioned that his Jeep had a V-8 Hemi under the hood, I quickly wandered off in embarrassment to visit the biker chicks for some good petting).

7/4 – Wild Duck Campground, Portland ME – Joyce arrives

 His mission for the day was to pick up Joyce at the Portland airport around mid-day. In order to accomplish this important task he had to break camp at the biker place; figure out where the next campground was located; drive there; check in; set up the trailer and drive to the airport (a very stressful morning but one that he actually pulled off without a problem).

7/5 – Wild Duck Campground

Hanging out in the greater Portland area, doing lot’s of tourist stuff, all very down east and nautical. I was fairly bored (I kind of missed the biker chicks) although it was really great to see Joyce (my favorite person), I feel so much safer when she is around.

7/6 – Wild Duck – Boothbay Harbor, ME

7/7 – Boothbay, ME

7/8 –Boothbay – St. John, NB Canada, Walmart Parking Lot

He tried to bribe me with massive amounts of salmon if I would ignore the most dramatic portion of this day which included crossing into Canada. I reminded him that when I agreed to write this blog I would not tolerate censorship; I refused the salmon, and now for today’s big adventure: “THE REMAINDER OF THIS STORY HAS BEEN REDACTED BY GOVERNMENT CENSORS”

7/9 – St. John – Annapolis Royal, NS, via ferry to Digby NS

 

7/10 – Annapolis Royal, NS

This town also named for Queen Anne, although she was only a princess when it was founded.  They ate dinner by the banks of the Annapolis River two nights in a row while I was banished to the TT with my dry dog food.

7/11 – Annapolis Royal

7/12 – Annapolis Royal – Kedgie National Park, NS

 Deep in the woods of Nova Scotia. Big events of the day include a canoe ride and supping with my person.

7/13 – Kedgie

 Same as yesterday

7/14 – Kedgie

7/15 – Kedgie – Lunenburg, NS

We are camped in an in-town RV Park operated by the town of Lunenburg, nice for J&J but no chance that I can go without a leash so I’m not so excited about this place. They get all excited about these scenic spots, not me unless there is wildlife to stalk.

7/16 – Lunenburg, NS

The local fisherman have a great sense of color:

7/17 – Lunenburg – Peggy’s Cove, NS

7/18 – Peggy’s Cove (Joyce departs for Annapolis via Toronto and Cincinnati)

 

7/19 – Peggy’s Cove – Augusta, ME Walmart (Olive Garden for dinner)

We are off to Wyoming, 2,600 miles to the west and I make him do all the driving.

7/20 – Augusta – Buffalo, NY (State Park just outside Buffalo)

 Spent the night is some NY State Park, lot’s of rules, left early.

7/21 – Buffalo – Elkhart, IN

7/22 – Elkhart – Independence, IA (Amish country)

Our campground was in Amish country. We did an early morning hike along the dirt roads to see Amish horses and dogs. We had fun.

7/23 – Independence – Lewis and Clark Lake Campground, NB

The following over-exposed photos were all taken in Nebraska – a lighthouse, a marina with a substantial sailing fleet, cheap beer and a 9 hole golf course – go figure.

7/24-7/25 – L&C Campground

 7/26 – L&C – Ollie’s Town, NB (Day’s Inn RV place)

7/27 – Ollie’s – Yellow Pine Campground, Medicine Bow National Forest, WY

Finally, we are officially in the west, and I’m a happy camper.

We stopped at a Wyoming Information center off of I-80 (as my best friend Joyce often says, “information is important” – epically when the old man is leading the way). This led us to Yellow Pine Campground about three miles from I-80 but light years away from civilization.

Being a Forest Service campground the fee is $10/night however with his “geezer pass” we paid only $5. With the solar panel and plenty of fresh water in the tank we can survive in relative comfort for at least a week. A local person told us that there are at least 56 miles of hiking and biking trails within easy reach of our campsite.

 

7/28 – Yellow Pine Campground

Hiking and biking most all day.

7/29 – Yellow Pine Campground

We hiked on virtually empty trails for at least 6-10 miles each day, 3 of 4 days were cool, sunny and clear, one day of much needed rain, was spent reading (him) and sleeping (me).

After three days of relative isolation (no cell or internet service – yikes!) and camper-cooked meals (which featured Wyoming steak and Chinook Salmon – yum) the old man was getting antsy for some western cultural so we piled into the Jeep and headed eight miles west to Laramie to view the obligatory tourist sights (he was basically interested in two things: 1) the geology museum and, 2) bars with outdoor dog-friendly seating).

Since the museum was closed, we found a brewpub with a patio, complete with a guy drinking red wine with his Brittany at his feet. We immediately became good friends, the Brittany (I’m bad with remembering dog names, but what dog isn’t?) was two years old and Ron (the guy) had previously had two Brits that both lived to be 15; this fact brightened my day considerably. The old man might be slowing down but I’ve got another 35 human years to chase squirrels and birds.

Ron was born in Laramie but moved to New Jersey and was employed in a gun manufacturing plant. He learned his trade and moved back to Laramie and set up shop making custom guns. He hunts with his dogs and when I heard his stories I was hoping to get invited on his next adventure. That didn’t happen but I am allowed to run free on many of our hikes and that is just as much fun and without the loud gun noise.

After one or two wines we said good by to Ron and his dog and headed for the local farmers market. I’m happy to report that the only thing he purchased was a bag of homemade doggy treats (apparently there were no wine or beer vendors at the market). For dinner we ordered a pizza to go and dined at the campground. He only ate half, which is unusual for him, another sign of his advancing years.

7/30 – Yellow Pine

7/31 – Yellow Pine – Brooklyn Lake Campground, Medicine Bow National Forest, WY

We shopped at the Laramie Walmart (WM’s are great for one stop shopping) at noon and arrive at the Brooklyn Lake Campground by 1:30 pm. This place is in the Snowy Mountain Range of southern Wyoming, elevation 10,200’. Just a scenic as the more famous Colorado Rockies but far less crowded.

After he set camp the old man left me in the trailer so he could ride his stupid mountain bike (he prefers flat dirt roads to mountain trails, a wimp for sure) – I don’t like the bike because sometimes he locks me in the trailer when he rides; I hate being alone in the trailer.

I pulled him along with me on an afternoon hike to Glacier Lake, just over a mile from our campground, the photos tell the story better than a dog can.

It’s 7:30 pm and we are both in bed; I had dinner but he was too tired to cook. The reason for this lethargy is our hike to the summit of Brown’s Peak, Elev. 12,013’, the highest peak in the Snowy Range (at least that’s what he tells me).

The hike started at 9,500’ Elev. that explains why we are so wiped out. The “trail” for the final 500’ climb consisted of large angular boulders with nasty gaps between them; I managed to get my leg stuck in such a gap, which freaked us both out (his main concern was that he would have to carry me three miles to the Jeep). No worries however, I was fine but he used this as an excuse to turn around just shy of the summit (he tried to blame me but he was happy to head down).

8/1 – 8/3 – Brooklyn Lake Campground

As you can tell by our length of stay this is a spectacular spot to camp, a glacial lake on one side and a view of Brown’s Peak to the west, Elev. 11,722’.

8/4 – Brooklyn Lake – Saratoga, WY

8/5 – Saratoga Lake Campground

So Noah Charles Watkins was born 34 years ago today in Boulder, CO, roughly 150 miles southeast of Saratoga. We met our next-door camper neighbors this morning and they are from Boulder (nice touch Noah).

 

Another day of adventure drove – 20 miles south to hike the Encampment Trial with follows the Encampment River for 15 miles upstream. We were limited to 3.5 miles each way due to the old man’s inability to keep pace with me (I was ready to go much further).

This is a great town for hanging out due, in part, to a natural hot spring which is nicely maintained by the city and it’s free to all (except dogs of course). I get to watch my guy luxuriate in the 104-degree pools, a nice way to end a hike. For the macho people, there is a pool known as the Lobster Pot, legend has it that at least one over-served college student never got a chance to graduate after visiting the “Pot”.

8/6 – Saratoga Lake Campground

Hanging out in Saratoga. He Purchased a Wyoming fishing license at Hack’s. He must be getting bored just hiking with me; I like fish so I hope he’s good at it.

8/7 – Saratoga Lake Campground – Silver Lake Campground, Snowy Range, WY

 He’s not.

8/8 – Silver Lake Campground

My person (aka the old man) is trying his best to become a passionate fisherman, let’s just say it’s not going too well. With $106 invested in an out-of-state license, he has accumulated enough ammo to utilize three different techniques to convince a trout to swallow his hook: 1) live/dead/manufactured bait, 2) artificial lures and 3) artificial insects i.e. fly-fishing. So far he’s landed two trout (using worms), he kept the small one and released the bigger one; he has a logical explanation for this behavior but basically he’s an idiot.

It’s raining now and my paws are covered with mud as a result of running free while he was “fishing”. We are riding out the thunderstorm in the comfort of his trailer; I’m a happy dog.

8/9 – Silver Lake Campground

We met the camp host Kim and her Australian sheep dog Bell when we checked in yesterday. She is a recent retiree from a very small town in western Kansas, so small that the old man didn’t recognize any of the three larger towns in its vicinity. She is camping in a small converted horse trailer with just enough room for a cook stove and her bedding and supplies. Since she has no heat and the temperature routinely drops into the low 40’s at night she informed the Forest Service that a transfer to a lower altitude is necessary for her to remain a FS camp host.

When we saw her last she was all packed up and heading for the visitors center for her next assignment. We toughed it out another night but an intense thunder storm with pea-size hail was enough to drive us back to Saratoga and it’s magical hot springs.

 8/10 – Silver Lake Campground – Saratoga Lake Campground

We are back in our favorite town. Dinner again at the Wolf Hotel bar where he met a couple from Ft. Worth, TX. The wife (Jenny Pace Dupree) was from Wyoming and inherited (along with her siblings and cousins) a working cattle ranch in the area. She offered to sponsor my person if he wanted to join the “Old Baldy Club”, a golf and trout fishing club on the edge of town which is somewhat exclusive so he may be making up the sponsorship offer (I of course wasn’t allowed in the bar so I can’t verify the conversation although he showed me her business card as proof of the offer). His lack of hair would make him a perfect fit at Old Baldy for sure.

8/11 – Saratoga Lake Campground – Granby, Colorado

After 40 nights sleeping in the trailer he finally springs for a hotel room in Granby, CO, just a few miles from Rocky Mountain National Park. I cost him an additional $35 to sleep in the room; he considered letting me sleep in the Jeep, however if Joyce found out he would have suffered considerable chastisement. Needless to say he paid the 35 bucks.

NOTE: IN THE INTEREST OF GETTING THIS BLOG UPLOADED WHILE WE HAVE INTERNET THE STORY WILL CONTINUE SOON – WE ARE HEADED TO SEE THE ECLIPSE TOMORROW IN SHOSHONIE, WY

 

 

Who are these people?  If anyone can correctly identify any 5 of his buddies (and one brother) you will be entered in the “Coach Goes West Sweepstakes” with the potential to win an all expenses paid vacation in the campground of your choice in our land yacht (as long as you don’t kick me out of bed).

So the old man had his rotator cuff repaired 7 weeks ago and is in the Phase II stage of rehab (heavy drinking and eating and moderate drug use).  He’s not looking forward to stage III when the heavy lifting begins; I’m just hopeful that he’ll regain enough strength to continue our fun times out west in the spring.

Playing with Ellen’s dogs is sorta fun but doesn’t compare with chasing wild game across BLM land in Utah and listening to the old man’s fascinating campfire-side geology lectures under a blanket of pinpoint stars  (slurred speech and all).

The old man is falling apart.  After tripping while walking me across Bay Ridge Ave last March in Annapolis he finally realized that he made a stupid move by putting his right arm out to break the fall (tuck and roll is the way they teach old people to fall).

He was hoping it would get better out west but that never happened so it’s rotator cuff surgery followed by 6-9 months of intense rehab for him.  I only hope that Woody and Joyce will make sure he feeds and walks me after the surgery as he has pre-ordered some powerful semi-illicit pain killers to see him through the rehab.

We did have some fun in Steamboat Springs, CO with Ellen, Mike and Kelly over the 4th of July weekend although he left me at Ellen’s place while they partied in town (parade, rodeo, fireworks and free hot dogs were the featured activities).  He did take me on several great hikes although I had to remain on-leash due to fears that I would bolt after some game and get lost and never return – I had more fun in Utah with Korte and Sky who didn’t have similar concerns.

I’m also missing Marge, Jack, Gizmo and Cat, my Boulder, CO hosts for much of June.  I enjoyed chasing squirrels in the backyard, however I was humiliated when 13 year old fluffy-ass yappy little Gizmo actually caught one. I begged Marge not to tell the old man for fear he would tell all his friends and make fun of me (which of course he did).

 

Stay tuned for further updates.

6/11 – Twin Harbors Community Beach – 10th  Annual Lilly Fest

 Editors note: Based on reports I’ve read in various doggy internet chat rooms (“Leash Laws Suck” and “Chihuahuas for Trump” are two examples – the latter one having only 2 members) Coach is having a high time in Colorado and has asked Marge and Jack for permanent resident status in Boulder. Joyce was devastated when she heard this news, however, I am confident that after a few more days with Marge he will be begging for a return to the old man and his rig.

This year’s Lilly Fest was another resounding success with over $10,000 in donations made to the Parent Project for Muscular Dystrophy (PPMD) on behalf of Noah. The highlight of the evening occurred when the Tikis played “Like a Rock” and “Happy Birthday to Lilly” during their last set. Woody and I could feel the love that was infused into everyone that joined in this celebration. I’m certain that Noah and his mother were listening and smiling.