Howdy Chip,

I know it’s been a while since I’ve been in touch, but I’ve been busy sniffing around the country and I just had to tell you about these beasts I saw today. They were a little like cows, but with heads like lumpy boulders and beady little eyes. They spent all their time eating grass and trying to hump each other. It’s just dry old grass. I had a good whiff of their poop and, I think that’s all they eat. Not the sweet ditch grass that grows around Belfast, the kind that helps with digestion. Just dry old grass. There’s no accounting for taste.

There was a big herd of them blocking the road like they owned it. So we waited until they let us pass. I was happy to be in the van, because they were scary big.

By the way, we’re in the Sand Hills of Nebraska, which are beautiful. Small rolling sandstone hills covered with grass. When the wind blows, which is all of the time, the long grass flickers and flashes like it's alive. It reminds me of the flashes of alewives when they're running up the St. George. Very pretty.

Occasionally at night I hear coyotes, but I’ve only seen a few. I smell them.  They’ll eat anything. Not the friendliest of our cousins, so again, I’m happy to be sleeping in the driver's seat at night. I don’t have a license so Rick does all the driving. That leaves me with the passenger's seat, my bed, and his bed to nap in. I get plenty of rest — you know how that is.

Our day usually goes like this. If it’s cold, like last night, we’re usually up before dawn and I’ll ask to go out to take care of the morning’s business. Then for me it’s back to bed for a little nap and Rick turns on the engine to warm things up and fixes me some breakfast. Once we get rolling it’s hard to sleep if we’re on the dirt roads which are like washboards. Everything rattles and if Rick hasn’t been packed carefully stuff can go flying.

There’s a few stops in the day for walks. Then usually a good stroll in the evening. Lots of opportunities to sniff around.

Two nights ago at a campground in a pine grove I tried to dig down into the burrows of some Pocket Prairie Gophers. But I never saw any of the little devils. With so few trees around there’s a lot of little vermin that live underground and come out at night while we’re asleep.

On April Fools Day, Rick told Susie I was bitten by a prairie dog. She wasn’t buying it. You’d love them. (They’re not really dogs.) More like fat little squirrels without trees.  They sit on their hind legs like they’re begging, right on top of their dirt pile homes and chatter at you. Sassy little things just daring you to chase afterthem. As soon as I’d run after one, down in the hole he would go and another would pop up twenty yards away. I chased for a while, but finally I just said to hell with it. I miss chasing the cat at home. Do you think Frankie misses me?

 In the town park at Medicine Lodge there were some squirrels, just like my yard squirrels. They made me a little homesick.

  Remember those gray pelicans I was telling you about watching in Louisiana? Well I saw a bunch of pure white ones on Ogallala Lake a few days ago.  They were just passing through. A pelican is about as weird as a buffalo, (or bison, as they’re properly called.)

Speaking of lakes and water, I’ve had a taste of the water just about everywhere I’ve gone. The Rio Grande, mountain lakes, and reservoirs in the desert,and yesterday I stood in the Niobrara River which was cool and tasty. Probably the best water I’ve had was up in the mountains of Colorado —  a cold running little brook that was particularly refreshing after days in such an arid country. 

Near Oshkosh the air was full of smoke, but we didn’t see the fires. There’s been no laying around the campfire. No campfires — burning ban.

The buffalo burrs are everywhere. Nasty sharp little things mixed in with the grass, with the sage brush, and with the prickly pears (which I’m careful not to step on). They’re just everywhere. They get caught in my fur and when I get one between the pads of my paw, it’s going on three legs for a while until I can chew it out.

I know you warned me about rattlesnakes and scorpions, but I haven’t seen any. Two nights ago there was a little dusting of snow so maybe they’re still napping. Don’t worry, I haven't forgotten your advice.

I’ve made a few new friends. Other travelers in their own campers, with their own drivers, but they’re usually a little standoffish. In Sun City, Kansas, however I met this little guy who had it made. He had a little Aussie in him like you — gray and black with spots, about my size, with a scruff of wiry hair.

He had the run of the whole town, but spent most of his time hanging in Buster’s or on their porch. It’s a saloon and BBQ joint where they throw all the bones out to him. Doggie heaven. And friendly? My goodness. He didn’t lift an eyebrow when I helped myself to a rib bone with quite a bit of meat left on it. Why should he? That dog had it made, but he was just a good old dog. 

Well you can see it’s interesting out here and different. Give my best to Katie, Johnny, and the kids. Tell Frankie not to get too comfortable, I’ll chase her when I get home.

Your Cowgirl Pard’, Dolly