Personal story by Seniye Groff
I sold my classic 1913 Foursquare home in Portland, Oregon in July 2025. She was majestic and beautiful but needy in an ongoing-maintenance kind of way. For six years I dreamed of hitting the open road solo with my fluffy, bouncy, stick-loving Goldendoodle, Pete. On the last day of September, I dropped my youngest daughter off at college, packed my car with everything I might need for a year (which happened to be three suitcases, two bags and a 30-pound bag of dog food) and hit the road going south down the 101.
My life was overscheduled and I operated on autopilot for most of it. The elixir of freedom, I decided, was the consummate medicine. Without home ownership or even a home base, I will road trip across the U.S. and wander for at least the next year or two. It was both a powerful and scary notion to walk away from my known day-to-day life. Every anchor and every root that has tethered me for the last 30 years wiped out with my final drive out of Portland.
So far, the trip has been nothing short of miraculous. No timeline and no final destination has amounted to true freedom. We’ve adventured in 18 states so far. My daily neighborhood dog walks are replaced with driving the interstates, culling things to see and accommodating my routine-driven dog, Pete. Wherever we go, I hear the same question over and over: “Can I pet your dog?” or “What kind of dog is he?” I recently travelled for three weeks with a friend. He rolled his eyes every time someone asked these questions. He had no idea what it is like to travel with a dog, but he quickly found out.
Things I’ve Learned on My Journey
I have learned so much about me, the country and Pete. My constant companion is truly my constant companion. This means every meal, every walk, and every exploration includes Pete. Even pet-friendly hotels do not allow me to leave Pete behind when I am out exploring. And if there is something I want to see but my four-legged friend is not welcomed, I have to continue to walk by. A lot of places still insist, no dogs allowed. A few places have made exceptions when they see how well-behaved Pete is, but that is rare.
Solo traveling can be lonely. With a dog there is purpose. Instead of people looking at me and wondering why I am alone, they look at my dog and then swing their head to meet its owner. And that is where I come in.
Once Pete has made the introduction, it is easier for me to ask, what should I see? Where should I go? What are the secret haunts in your town? After all, they have already been vetted by my dog. Early on in my trip, I realized that Pete is my gateway drug to meeting people. People feel compelled to stop and talk to Pete and I’m along for the ride.
The Mississippi Civil Rights Museum was one of those places. Pete set off my car alarm when I left him in the backseat, so when I heard the alarm blaring, I retrieved him and asked if he could meander the museum with me. It helped that the museum was deserted, as I had arrived at opening time on a Saturday.
They took one look at him and said yes. I ended up having one of the most amazing chance meetings in the museum. Hezekiah Watkins shared his emotional story of being arrested and imprisoned at the young age of 13 because he accidentally stepped in the “Whites Only” entrance at the bus station. He was arrested an additional 109 times as part of the Freedom Riders. The conversation started with, “Your dog is so well-behaved.” I am sure Pete’s calm demeanor allowed the conversation to continue much longer than first intended.
Another time, someone offered me a meal and enchanting conversation after a walk through a neighborhood. The person gravitated towards Pete as we sauntered by, wanting to know if he was a Poodle. The person was curious about him, and subsequently me. My random pet sitting gigs have also allowed me to meet folks that normally would not permit another animal in their home but instantly loved Pete, and so the gig became mine.
Top Tips for Traveling with a Dog
Sometimes people assume that because I am a nomad, it means I am camping everywhere, which is not the case. I stay in hotels, short-term rentals and do dog sitting. I have learned some nuggets on the road that make it easier for me and Pete, which include bringing a sheet to cover my bed. This keeps the bed linens relatively clean and I don’t have to worry about leaving a mess.
There are tools to find hotels that allow dogs. I typically begin with the BringFido app and couple it with targeted research on hotel sites. Once I have narrowed down my choices, I call or email the hotel to make sure the online information is current. I don’t want a surprise that I won’t be able to check in, especially late at night.
Eating Out Can Be Tricky
I gravitate towards restaurants and cafes that have outdoor seating because I have a better chance of bringing Pete. But I have learned that even outdoor patios can be off limits, so I don’t fall in love with a menu until I know Pete is welcomed.
I always bring a water bowl and something delicious for Pete to chew on while I am eating. The bigger challenge is the other diners that want to pet him which, of course, excites Pete all over again.
Make the Road Easier to Travel
On the road I have a two-gallon jug of water and a portable bowl. It’s important that Pete does not get dehydrated since he is a breed that drinks lots of water (and unlike me he can pee anywhere). A water bowl is always in the car. And I have a bag with just his items that make it easy to unpack and pack with every stop.
Because Pete doesn’t love the car, I make sure to stop about every two hours and let him stretch his legs. Carrying a 30-pound bag of food in and out of hotels is not ideal, so I carry a gallon bag that I refill with Pete’s food. This way I only lug the smaller bag in and out of the car. It is a gamechanger.
Dog First Aid and Vet Visits
After a red ant bite in the South got infected on Pete’s foot, I learned that as we travel, we are exposed to grasses and bugs different from the Pacific Northwest. Booties are now a godsend. And Neosporin and first aid tape keep bites covered. Essentially, a first aid kit for both my dog and me ensures we are both comfortable when issues crop up.
Printed vet records are a must, too. As I travel the country, it makes it easier for the vet to have all of Pete’s history in front of them when Pete gets injured or sick. I also have his rabies certificate printed so that crossing borders is smooth and efficient.
Perhaps people gravitate towards Pete because he exudes pure joy and happiness, which are clearly evident with every tail wag, every lick, and every roll in the grass and sand. There is no guesswork that he feels joy.
Shortly after my wandering started, it became clear to me that Pete knows the secret sauce to meeting people. Or as they say, he has a certain je ne sais quoi. He realizes that happiness is easy if you let it happen, if you accept it for what it is. He understands that simplicity wins. And, I suppose, I have learned that, too. Here’s to more chance meetings on the road facilitated by my dog.
About the author
Seniye Groff, MEd, is a lifelong learner. Since selling her house in Portland, Oregon in July 2025, Seniye has been wandering solo throughout the United States with her dog, Pete. She loves travel, writing, volunteering, cooking, eating and spending time with her two daughters. She has published works in Adoption Today, Santa Fe Writers Project Quarterly, ROVA Magazine, Ilanot Review and Learning Solutions magazine. Find her online at seniyegroff.com, on Instagram, and on Substack. Pete is on Instagram at @no_one_sweeter_than_peter.
