No, I’m NOT Steve.

This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle.  You know, I wear a lot of hats.  And I wear them amazingly, if I do say so myself.  But one thing I am not?  I am not a camp host.  I am not Steve.

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Some campgrounds have it all.  A lot of space, a place to wash our clothes, a place to shower off.  Some campgrounds have less than that. And some are pretty much arrested as soon as we get there.  Such was the case this weekend in Oregon.  If not for the beach, I would have thrown away the key with no chance of parole. But the beach makes up for a lot, and we literally steps away from the beautiful ocean.

However, even the beach had a hard time making up for having the worst campsite in the whole place, right next to the office with lines and lines of cars and trailers coming and going night and day.

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The laundry room was closed all weekend, the showers were sandy and dust was blowing into our windows every five minutes.  Beach…beach….serenity now, serenity now!

Because we were parked so close to the office which was only open for four hours a day, by the way, which is less than even Deputy Digby’s work schedule, people got confused when it closed.  What would they do?  How would they check in?  What if their electric didn’t work?  Who were they supposed to call?  The camp host.  And where was the camp host?  Where was the camp host named Steve? OH, mysteriously two rows over from the office with no sign.  So who did they think was the camp host?  Serenity now…serenity now…

Morning.  Knock, knock!  “Hello? Is Steve in there?”  Afternoon.  Knock, knock.  “I can’t get cable.”  And that wasn’t the worst of it.

As we were about to go to bed at 10:30 at night…flashlights in our window, scaring us all to death.  Serenity now…serenity now…

Hello again.  Hello.  No, my name is NOT Steve.

Sometimes, Girl Person is not the voice of reason, sorry to break the news.  After awhile, she flips out, and this Steve guy or the lack there of, was it.  The flashlight was the last straw.  As Boy Person told him above our barking that we were not Steve, Girl Person about threw her steamed broccoli pot out the window at this camper guy.  She was going to find Steve and give him a piece of her mind. Boy Person told her to calm down and that he would go tell the camper where Steve was.  He told Girl Person when you are so mad that you want to flip out, if you pull yourself together and try to be nice and helpful that you have no choice but to calm down.  Well, that does not work for me.  As usual, Deputy Digby does not care, and he had not cared all day.

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And so as our night went on, and the next morning, we were on guard.  When would the next knock be?  What would they need?  Instructions on how to use the water?  To find out where the bathrooms were? Could they reserve a campsite? And it became funny and crazy and I knew not to think every time was the end of it.

In fact, I am sure it will not stop until we pull out of here. We will miss the beach, but we won’t miss the lack of Steve.

What is going on today? We are still trying to narrow down our rescue pick which will keep us in Oregon for this week.  Don’t worry, sometimes our rescue work is not so predictable, but it is one of the main reasons for this trip.  We want to pick the right one to highlight to our fans, and a lot of behind the scenes parts make up this aspect of the Adventure Of A Lifetime.  Thank you for your patience, but my patience actually is a little worn thin.  Please.  Don’t knock on the door.

-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle

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A Fool Such As I.

This is Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle. Well, it finally happened this week.  It had to be done.  Everyone. Is. Arrested.

You know, I am a go with the flow kinda guy.  Actually, that would be Deputy Digby.  I am an arrest the guys that go with the flow kinda guy. And after the past few weeks, we have had, well, I was trying to hold off on the arrests because first of all there were too many, and I didn’t feel like doing a lot of paperwork.  Then, it gets to a point when you just throw your paws up in the air and say to yourself, self?  Am I a fool?  Did I not think that I should have arrested everyone to start with?  I should have, and maybe we wouldn’t have been in the situation we got ourselves in yesterday.  Fooooolish.

Now and then there’s a fool such as I

You see, we had a pretty uneventful few days at Crater Lake National Park, and I got a bit complacent in my Sheriff duties.  We had a great time there, and I let down my guard.  Fooooolish.

And since the persons are so tired at this point, they are making errors in judgement.  Like when Digby thinks he can eat that whole stack of pancakes when he can actually eat two stacks.  You see, they had a bright idea that we could find a camping spot in this Oregon place on a Thursday in a remote area.  I mean, they thought, how many campers would be there?  How many people love to be in the great outdoors in this Oregon place?

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They also thought, hey…let’s not look at the map very well and drive this Big Blue Treat Wagon RV all the way through the Redwood Forest swishing around bad diesel we have had in this thing from two states ago.

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I mean, that wouldn’t be foolish, right?  Or…how about let’s have to drive thru California and then have to say goodbye to it 10 miles later?  Pardon me for being a little, well, irritable.  I guess I am being fooooolish.

I mean, Girl Person hasn’t stopped talking about and missing California since we left five years ago. And then finally, the day we get there, we say goodbye, cause we still have a rescue to visit in Oregon.  We aren’t done here yet.  Who is in charge here?

Pardon me, if I’m sentimental
When we say goodbye
Don’t be angry with me should I cry
When you’re gone, yet I’ll dream
A little dream as years go by

Did I say at the beginning of the week that our family had to give each other a break and be patient? Well, I arrest myself for saying that.  After you drive five hours with no organic peanut butter to be found, you get a little testy.  After you break down, you get a little testy.  But as usual, we pulled it all together.  We sat on the side of the road and looked at each other.  What would we do?  Here it was, near 5 pm and where would we go? As Boy Person fixed the Big Blue Treat Wagon RV again, Girl Person called around, yelling into her phone because she only had one bar of cell service and we found a campsite.  For one night.  One night never sounded so good.

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We could rest and I could write some reports.  And on everyone’s report, including yours, because I know what you did this morning, my stamp is stamped hard and in charge.  YOU. ARE. ARRESTED.

So here we sit, in Brookings, Oregon this morning.  And I have one thing to say after the first thing I have to say now.  First off, I hear the ocean is here.  And it is calling my name.  Second, we have no food and no produce because that California place confiscated it like Deputy Digby confiscates all clean air around him.  So first off, we need a campsite.  Second, I need the ocean.  And third, we need to visit a rescue next week.  Work with us here, Oregon place.  You are beautiful, you are important.  But seriously.  I won’t be a fool anymore today.  The first thing that goes wrong, you know what is happening.

Stay tuned in to our Facebook page today for updates! Or your report will have an addition…namely, no parole.

-Sheriff Peanut Butter Brickle

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