The outback isn’t for everyone. It’s relentless, punishing, and raw. The kind of place where the line between survival and surrender is thinner than the beer at a dodgy roadhouse. But for me, it’s the perfect backdrop for travelling with Wally, my thirteen-year-old Sharpei-Staffy mix. He’s a dog who’s seen more of Australia than most people ever will.
There’s something grounding about having a dog on the road. It’s not glamorous. It’s not convenient. But it’s real. Travelling with Wally is like travelling with a furry, four-legged anchor. He doesn’t care about bucket lists or Instagram-worthy sunsets. He cares about finding the perfect patch of sun to nap in and whether dinner is on time.
And let me tell you, it’s not always easy. When you’re living on the road and working to fund the next leg of the journey, having a dog complicates things. Some outback towns aren’t dog-friendly, and finding a job that lets you bring a pet along is about as rare as a decent coffee in the middle of nowhere. The alternative? Split shifts. One of us works while the other stays behind to watch Wally. It’s not ideal. It’s lonely. But it works—for now.
But every so often, the stars align, and the outback gods smile down. I’ve been lucky—my bosses have all turned a blind eye or, better yet, welcomed Wally with open arms. “Bring him along,” they’d say. “He can watch the bar.” Try pulling that stunt in Melbourne or Sydney, and you’d be laughed out of the room.
The van is his kingdom. He has his bed, his bowls, and his routines. By day, he lounges outside, soaking up the sun like an old man on a Mediterranean holiday. Sure, the exposure probably isn’t great for his skin, but at his age, who am I to tell him otherwise? At night, he curls up in the van, his snores blending into the soundtrack of crickets and rustling gum trees.
There are times when the extra responsibility feels like a weight. The vet bills. The planning. The compromises. But those moments pale in comparison to the joy he brings. The tail wags when we stumble back from a long shift. The unspoken understanding that we’re in this together. The companionship that cuts through the isolation of life on the road.
Wally is more than just a dog. He’s a reminder that life isn’t about perfection or convenience. It’s about connection. It’s about loyalty. And sometimes, it’s about having someone who doesn’t care whether you’re sleeping in a van or a five-star hotel, as long as they’re by your side.
So, yeah, it’s not always easy. But it’s worth it. Every messy, beautiful, chaotic second of it.
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Thanks for rolling by! If this post fueled your van life or travel dreams, hit the like button, share it with your fellow wanderers, or shout a coffee to keep the wheels turning and the journey going! - Adam, Will and Wally.