July 2, 2016 (by Chewie) – This is Chewie the traveling dog. They finally let me write one of these things. I mean, here I am the owner of this fifth wheel, and I don’t get to write about it. That’s just wrong. So here we go. As we headed out on the second day of my new adventure, I told Jim that he needed to take me to a park. You see, being cooped up in a truck for two days is more than a dog can take. I needed to stretch my legs and own something (if you get my drift). Well, since I made them get going early, there was time to stop at a national park, so after Jim filled my carriage with diesel, we headed down this awful road to Lincoln’s Birthplace (I told Jim there was a better road up ahead, but he is a bit hard headed).
Well, Jim did great getting the RV down the goat path to Lincoln’s Birthplace. We entered the front gate and found a place to park. I told him shade, please, even though it was a beautiful day. I didn’t want it hot after my romp around the park.
I told Jim he better grab my leash because I didn’t want to lose him; he has a tendency to straggle a bit, but I pull him along when he needs it.
They have a nice building, and inside there is a movie that plays before you go for your walk. I, however, had not had a legitimate outside experience in two days and wanted to see the park. Jim usually likes to watch the movie, but this time he let me have my way (he said something about dogs not being allowed inside, but I think he made that up). We head down this path that winds through the woods – a nice relaxing stroll. At the end of the path is this Memorial Building, big thing, really pretty.
Jim and I sat outside while mom went in and checked out the Memorial; then Jim went in. I just preferred to stay outside. Mom said a replica of Lincoln’s birth house was inside the Memorial. While I was waiting for Jim to come out, I read where the cornerstone was laid by President Theodore Roosevelt (a Bull Dog) and the dedication of the Memorial, once finished, was made by President Howard Taft (a heavy St. Bernard). Lincoln was born here in 1809, so when he was assassinated in 1865, he was 56 years old – way too young. Anyway, after visiting the Memorial, we headed down this path to the spring. The property is called Sinking Spring, and there is a spring at the bottom of the hill from the house.
I then noticed another path called the Oak Boundary path. It was cool and shady, and I got lots of neat smells down it. It did go up and down quite a bit, and I had to wait for Jim and mom A LOT, but they finally made it through, and the path ended back up at the Memorial. As we walked around the Memorial there was a pretty lady, and after she passed by mom said to me, “You were hoping she would pet you, weren’t you”? I didn’t say anything, but Jim said. “Were you talking to the dog?” Jim laughed, but I didn’t see the humor.
Once we got back to the truck, I drank a whole bottle of water. I guess you could say, I left it all on the field. All-in-all, it was a nice stop on our trip. It didn’t cost anything. Dogs were required, and, personally, when you poop between the flags blowing in the breeze and the place where one of our greatest presidents was born, well, there is a sense of patriotism that washes over you.
High Five… Chewie