We Sold the Casita, But Not the Dog

As the little 17 foot trailer left the driveway, we waved it off with good wishes and great memories. The new owners were enthusiastic about the adventures it would open for them, and knowing it was going into good hands sweetened the sale for us.

Eight years ago, we picked the Casita up in Rice, Texas and drove immediately to Austin to learn from my cousin how to transform the table  into a bed, deal with delicacies like emptying the latrine, and the art of securing doors, windows and vents for travel.

Then off we went each year on trips as far west as Arizona and east to Nova Scotia.
Along with our two sixty-five pound dogs, we learned to fit and function in the little space.

Once, somewhere out west, I was inside a convenience store while Bud was outside pumping gas. Another customer came in and said to the clerk, " Did you see that tiny rig out there from Pennsylvania?  I don't know how they fit, but the guy has two big dogs that go with it."  "Plus me," I said.

At other gas stations and grocery stores, strangers asked if they could come in and look around.

In all our travels, we tested its heater in December in the Rockies, the air conditioner in Arizona, and cooking capabilities across the land.  When we stopped to visit friends and relatives we turned down their offers of guest rooms and spacious baths, and stayed in the Casita.

It was cozy and had everything we needed.

It served us well, but we hadn't really used it much in the last two years.  We almost sold it twice last year, but both deals fell through and we never tried very hard to find another.

This time, though, it was so syncronistic around the sale to the new folks, that it felt like it was suppose to be theirs.

And they bought it for all the right reasons - to get out there and enjoy a new adventure in life!