There are three of us who make most of the decisions when we travel.
Vicky and I make two of them.
Cash is reasonably certain he makes the third.
Cash is our Poochon, a little mix of Bichon Frise and Toy Poodle who was never actually supposed to become our traveling dog. He was originally going to belong to one of our daughters, but when she discovered she couldn’t have him where she was living, Cash needed another home.
He found ours.
Somewhere along the way, without any family meeting or formal vote, he became part of The Cooper Shortcut Camping Journey.
Now he has thousands of miles behind him, dozens of states under his paws, and enough campground experience that I’m fairly certain he considers our fifth wheel his personal vacation home.
And like many seasoned RV travelers, Cash has developed a routine.
It just happens to be entirely his own.
The Best Seat in the Truck
Travel day begins long before the wheels start turning.
Vicky and I may be checking cabinets, slides, water connections, tires, hitching the fifth wheel and making sure everything is where it belongs. Cash doesn’t concern himself with any of that.
His job is transportation supervision.
Once we’re ready to roll, he settles into his custom console seat between us in the truck.
That’s important.
Not beside Vicky.
Not beside me.
Between us.
Cash has apparently decided this is where a dog belongs.
The same rule applies when we’re riding around a campground in the golf cart. And when we’re walking, he somehow manages to position himself between us then, too.
At night?
You guessed it.
Between us.
I suppose when you’ve traveled as many miles as Cash has, you learn the value of consistency.
Most of the time on the highway, he curls himself into a little ball and sleeps. Mile after mile disappears beneath the tires while Cash snoozes through scenery people drive hundreds of miles to see.
At least we think he’s sleeping.
Then the truck begins to slow.
One eye opens.
The speed drops a little more.
His head comes up.
By the time we’re turning toward a fuel station, rest area or campground entrance, Cash is fully awake and ready for whatever comes next.
How does he know?
We have absolutely no idea.
But he knows.
Fuel Stops Look Different When You Travel With a Dog
Traveling with Cash has changed the rhythm of our driving days.
When you’re towing a large fifth wheel, fuel stops already require a little planning. We prefer stations where we have plenty of room to maneuver, and we’re always thinking ahead about how we’re going to get in and get back out before committing ourselves to a turn.
Cash adds another consideration.
Where can we safely walk him?
A patch of grass away from traffic can suddenly become almost as important as pump access.
We also never assume Cash will be able to go inside somewhere with us. That means stops occasionally become a tag-team operation. One of us stays with him while the other goes inside, and then we switch if necessary.
During hot weather, that isn’t merely convenient. It’s important.
An RVing dog doesn’t understand that you’re “only going to be gone a minute.” He simply knows you disappeared through a door while he stayed behind.
So Cash goes where we can safely take him, and when he can’t, one of us stays with him.
It’s one of those small adjustments that becomes second nature after enough miles together.
Arrival Day According to Cash
Pulling into a campground is when Cash really comes alive.
Vicky and I are looking at site numbers, trees, turns, utility pedestals and where I need to position the fifth wheel.
Cash is looking at something else entirely.
Dogs.
People.
Golf carts.
Squirrels.
Grass.
More dogs.
And probably a dozen things we can’t see or smell.
While we’re getting settled, Cash has to wait. That’s simply part of traveling safely with a pet. There are too many things happening while backing and setting up the fifth wheel to have him wandering around underfoot.
Once everything is secure, however, his campground inspection can begin.
That first walk around a new campground isn’t only for exercise. It gives Cash a chance to become familiar with his new surroundings, and it gives us a chance to see the campground on foot.
We’ve discovered quite a bit that way.
Where are the dumpsters? Is there a dog-walking area? Are there trails nearby? Where does campground traffic tend to be busiest? Are there loose dogs? Is there a quiet place for an evening walk?
Cash thinks he’s showing us around.
We let him believe that.
The Serious Business of Doing Absolutely Nothing
Cash is also exceptionally good at one of camping’s most underrated activities.
Doing nothing.
Give him a warm patch of sunshine, and he’ll stretch out on the concrete as though he hasn’t had a vacation in years.
Give him a patch of cool grass and the entire day’s schedule may have to be reconsidered.
There is something worth learning from that.
We RVers can become so focused on destinations that we forget we’re already somewhere.
We plan the drive. We plan the campground. We plan what we’re going to see once we arrive. We look at maps and calculate mileage and decide what tomorrow will bring.
Cash doesn’t care about tomorrow.
He has found a comfortable patch of grass today.
And for the moment, that’s enough.
Maybe dogs understand camping better than we do.
Campground Life With Four Paws
Having Cash along also means accepting a little extra responsibility.
Before traveling somewhere new, we pay attention to campground pet rules. Some have designated areas for dogs. Some have restrictions on where pets can go. Leash requirements vary, although keeping Cash under control around an unfamiliar campground is simply good practice regardless of the rules.
We also carry what he needs just as surely as we carry what we need.
His food and water are part of our travel-day planning. So are his leash, waste bags and the familiar things that make a strange campground feel a little less strange.
And we watch the weather differently with him along.
A hot campground road or concrete pad may not seem particularly uncomfortable through a pair of shoes, but Cash doesn’t wear shoes. On warm days, grass and shaded areas become important, and walks may happen earlier in the morning or later in the evening.
Cold weather brings its own considerations.
Then there are campground neighbors.
Not everyone loves dogs, and even people who do may not want somebody else’s dog visiting their campsite. Cash doesn’t get to decide that every passing person is his new best friend.
Although I’m pretty sure he believes they are.
Being a good campground neighbor means making sure our enjoyment of traveling with Cash doesn’t interfere with someone else’s enjoyment of their campsite.
His Favorite Place Isn’t Really a Place
After thousands of miles, you’d think Cash might have developed a favorite campground.
Maybe one with a great dog park.
Maybe somewhere with soft grass.
Maybe a campsite where squirrels are particularly careless.
I don’t think he has.
His favorite place seems to be wherever Vicky and I happen to be.
That became obvious a long time ago.
If Vicky walks one direction and I walk another, Cash suddenly faces one of life’s great dilemmas. He’ll look at her, then at me, as though one of us has clearly misunderstood how this arrangement is supposed to work.
We’re supposed to stay together.
All three of us.
That little console seat between us isn’t just a comfortable place to ride. It’s Cash’s place in the family.
Right in the middle.
Around the Campfire
Does traveling with a dog make RVing more complicated?
A little. You have another traveler depending entirely on you, so fuel stops, sightseeing days, campground choices and weather require a bit more thought. But after a while, those considerations simply become part of how you travel.
What do we look for in a pet-friendly campground?
We appreciate room to walk Cash safely, grassy areas and sensible pet rules. A fenced dog area is nice, but it isn’t essential for us. A campground where we can comfortably take an evening walk together means more.
What about leaving a dog alone in the RV?
That’s something each RV owner has to consider carefully. RV interiors can heat up quickly if air conditioning fails or campground power is interrupted. Whenever a pet is left behind, temperature, power reliability and how long you’ll be away deserve serious consideration. Technology can help monitor an RV, but it doesn’t replace good judgment.
Has Cash changed the way we travel?
Absolutely.
He slows us down.
And that may be one of the best things he has ever done for us.
Final Thoughts
Cash came into our lives because a plan changed.
Our daughter couldn’t keep him where she was living, so he came to us.
Nobody could have known where that small change in plans would eventually lead.
Certainly not Cash.
One day he was supposed to be our daughter’s dog. Before long, he was riding between Vicky and me as we pulled a fifth wheel down another highway toward another campground.
He’s crossed state lines he doesn’t know exist. He’s slept through scenery people put on bucket lists. He’s walked campgrounds from one part of the country to another without ever wondering what state he was in.
And perhaps that’s why I enjoy watching him so much.
Cash doesn’t need to know where we’re going to enjoy getting there.
He doesn’t care how many miles we traveled that day. He doesn’t know whether the campground has five stars or three. He has no idea whether tomorrow’s destination is famous.
He wants his people nearby.
He wants a little grass.
A walk is always appreciated.
A comfortable place for a nap doesn’t hurt.
And when the truck starts slowing down, he’d like everyone to understand that he is awake and available for whatever adventure comes next.
Maybe that’s why Cash fits our travels so well.
We’re not trying to get there first. We’re trying to enjoy getting there.
And tucked into his seat between Vicky and me, I think Cash has understood that all along.
Until our next meal together,
The Cooper Shortcut Camping Journey Trio 😊 PlusOne!
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