🎣 Golden Moments: The One with the Trailer, the Fish, and the Mud

Hi there, it’s me—your favorite muddy, sun-kissed, fish-chasing golden retriever.

Big news: my humans bought a house on wheels! Apparently, my little brother and I have outgrown the rooftop tent situation. Something about "two dogs, eight paws, zero space." Honestly, I didn’t mind the old setup—I’ll sleep anywhere—but this new trailer thing?

GAME. CHANGER. It has a bed. For me. I didn’t ask for it, but I accepted it. Graciously.

Anyway, back to the story.

We headed up into the mountains for a weekend of fresh air, squirrel reconnaissance, and whatever that weird burnt marshmallow smell is that humans seem obsessed with. The new trailer parked right next to a big, splashy reservoir, which I immediately declared my new favorite lake. (Yes, I’ve said that before. Don’t judge.)

Now—let’s talk fishing.

My humans? They kept throwing shiny things into the water. Over and over. I still don’t understand it. The lures looked like the world's slowest stick toss. And guess who had to go retrieve them? That’s right. Me. Every. Time. I even added some dramatic splashing for effect. I don’t think they appreciated my form.

They grumbled about “not catching a single fish.” I say—who needs fish when you’ve got mud puddles, pine air, and the absolute thrill of existing?

I chased butterflies, rolled in something that definitely wasn’t mud (no regrets), and ended the day soaked, stinky, and completely content. Meanwhile, the humans were all sighs and tangled lines. I don’t get it. The day was perfect.

So, while they packed up their gear and muttered something about "next time," I curled up in the trailer with a soggy tail and a full heart.

This is living.

Stay tuned for our next big adventure—hopefully with less shampoo and more snacks.

Paws out, Cash 🐾