My journey begins in
, with my dad. He’s pretty cool. He drives; I sleep. Works for me. San Diego, California
Today, we travel up the coast of
, destination Southern California in Gaviota State Park . My dad says I get to ride shot gun. Santa Barbara County
was decent enough. A lot of tent-campers… Gaviota State Park
Since we are driving north, my dad gets the view of the California coast, so I just slept the whole way there. We did stop in
, our old home town, though. Our rest stop was at my old favorite place, Pinkberry. Of course, I am relegated to the vehicle while he gets to sample the new flavors. But I digress... My dad let me lick the sticky cup. Flavor: Salted Caramel (hold the salt, please). And of course, I licked it clean. This seems to give my dad some sense of pleasure that he did something nice for me… Oh well, it’s back on the road in the Supervan. Thousand Oaks
Now, let’s talk about the accommodations. There was no segregated doggy area. Strike one. The small “grassy” area, if you can call it that, was more like a weed-infested crab grass. You know, I can conjour up a dump a lot easier with fresh cut
Marathon sod, but I tolerated it.
We took a walk down to the pier at
(I was not allowed on the beach btw, strike two), and there were so many interesting smells, I didn’t know which way to yank the leash. There’s nothing like the putrid stench of something, you know what I mean? My dad gave me free reign, and when I got my fill of sniffing, we headed back to camp. Gaviota Beach
After eating a burger cooked in our Supervan, my dad and I watched some Fox News and I fell asleep dreaming of squirrels, since there were none to be seen. Strike three.