#2 SCOOTER SUBLIME TRAVEL JOURNAL
Monday, August 21
We leave tomorrow. At least that’s the plan. My humans are busy. They have ignored my frequent calls for play, so I pulled my plush bedroom bed to the living room. I’ve added the pillow from my small living room bed, and I’ve crawled in. From this place of security I watch my parents scurrying about the apartment filling bags, boxes, and suitcases. The washer and dryer have been busy. As you can see, I have a very different approach to preparing for a car trip.
Tuesday
The refrigerator has been cleared and cleaned, houseplants have been placed on a kitchen counter so a friend (who brings me treats) can more easily oversee their care. Lists. You should see the lists strewn about! And still, even with it written down twice, they forgot the bag of popcorn.
And let me jump right to that, to forgetting. By the time the trunk and even the car’s interior had been filled, by the time all list items had been marked through as if remembered and properly stowed, and we were on our way, well . . . After we fueled up at Costco and had reached the second roundabout toward the freeway, my dad said, “Where are the sandwiches?”
We returned to our apartment . . . for the sandwiches. We still didn’t remember the popcorn (which I do very much like).
I’ll skip hours on the road, except to say that for a few minutes, while my dad napped in the backseat, for the first time ever, I got to ride up front!
Let me get you to Grant’s Pass, Oregon; to the “Inn” where the night will be spent. We’ve been “upgraded” to a suite, to a “no dogs allowed” suite! I’m feeling very pampered. Half of what had been loaded into the car was loaded onto a luggage carrier and brought to a dark but expansive room where the first thing we all noticed was a large stain on the carpet. My mom called the front desk to affirm that the stain has nothing to do with me.
What makes this space a “suite?” we wondered. Surely not that there are only two plastic-wrapped papery drinking cups marked, “not for microwave use.” Don’t expect one for water, and another for coffee. No sir, not in this suite. The flimsy coffee-maker that can be plugged in only by moving the microwave out of the way doesn’t seem to be an upgrade. Fortunately, my mom brought along a ceramic mug. She’ll be able to reheat her coffee if she rises early tomorrow to read. That is, she can reheat her coffee if she can keep the little rotating glass tray in the microwave from tossing the mug to the side. It rides a bit off its track.
Maybe it’s the Way off the Floor King-sized bed that makes this space special? It’s quite a jump for me, but it is marvelously comfortable for all three of us, plus my Chipmunk. However, one should not grab hold of the tall foot-board post on mom’s side. It’s loose, a bit askance, and a bit beaten up. Like maybe some dog before me chewed on it.
The absence of a Guide for the TV surprised us. Mom called the very nice Front Deck person about this. There is a number you can dial on the TV for a guide, she said, but she doesn’t know what that number is.
One really can’t credit the Once, But No Longer, Adjustable shower-head that does deliver a primary channel of water but offers, at no additional charge, an uncontrollable but constant fine mist spewing a wide arch across the curtained space. That can’t be a mark of an upgrade, can it? The good news, says my my mom, “the water is hot.”
I very nearly started to tell you about the massive jet tub that occupies a third of the suite’s space. That’s got to be it! I’ll add a picture. A sign posted on the wall beside it says, “Remember to fill the tub with water before turning on the jets.” Really?
My humans are appalled by the idea of wasting so much water by filling that massive thing. Obviously, they are not suite-suited people. I was going to elaborate, but then! I remembered, Thursday will be my Fourth Birthday!
One more day on the road. One more sleep. Then, Oh boy! My birthday! Sweet.
