Cameron the Weimaraner has spent the offseason “glamping” in a cozy travel trailer that will make a great mobile hunting lodge come fall!
I, Cameron the Weimaraner, have written numerous times here about my love of all things outdoors to include: hunting, fishing, hiking and camping. I need to be outside! This must be my inner wolf wanting out.
I have discovered that camping, however, has a very dark side. The choking smoke, biting bugs, frigid cold and other encounters of the outdoor kind while camping make me most uncomfortable. I also don’t want to see my shiny fur coat go up in flames from an errant campfire spark. Plus, when the temperatures plummet in the tent after the sun sinks behind a mountain, I generally get cold. Camping in a tent is blah.
The great news is this summer I have been glamping—or “glamour camping” in a travel trailer. It’s warm inside, my dog bed has been replaced by a huge cushy hooman-sized bed, and best of all, the biting bugs stay outside. All the comforts of home now when camping, and you simply pull and park—then enjoy the great outdoors until it’s time for sleep. The best news I can share on glamping is that after two hops I’m inside and on the bed: hop one to bypass the steps and get inside, and hop two to land up on the bed. Ah, the good life.
I can also watch meals being prepared, get ready to beg for my share, listen to the radio, watch TV and lie on the bed and look out the windows. I see those bugs out there! Other great news is that when I go glamping the smoky campfire and the threatening sparks of fire have been replaced by a warm propane heater. Push a button and warm up. Life is so good when glamping.
I have discovered, however, all is not paradise in a travel trailer. Now for the recent issue—someone pushed me off the bed. I was stretched out, rolling around on the bed, enjoying the feel of the soft comforter when bam! I hit the floor. I have been on numerous beds so I know the boundary edges. I was shocked to be plummeting through the air and hitting the travel trailer’s hard floor. I still think someone gave me a nudge over the edge—but I’m moving on.
OK, maybe I rolled too close to the edge, but my suspicion of being pushed makes the entire event less embarrassing and more mysterious. I’d call the FBI and ask for a thorough investigation, but I know they are busy and there’s little room for more folks inside the travel trailer.
Glamping still beats the tent, and I look forward to using the camper this fall as a mobile hunting lodge. Glamp on!
– Cameron
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