I had been traveling with these humans for less than a day when I learned something important: they don’t always know where we’re sleeping.
After rescuing me from the mean streets of Amarillo, we headed west into New Mexico with the big black 4Runner pulling that enormous white armadillo they apparently call a Casita.
As evening approached, we pulled into the Sierra Grande Rest Area for my first night on the road.
No campground. No hookups. No reservations.
Apparently, we were boondocking.
The humans seemed perfectly comfortable with this arrangement. I remained cautiously optimistic.
— Arnold