I did take the Devil Dog, after being guilted into it by the person I had asked to feed her Friday night. It’s not that I didn’t think she’d enjoy it; it’s that I knew she would wander off, make friends with all of the vicious wildlife, and bring them back to the campsite. That’s just her way – many is the time when I’ve woken up at home only to find a bunch of beer cans strewn around the kitchen and some passed-out raccoons that she invited in during the night. Sure, she’s evil incarnate, but she’s very friendly.
She did seem to have a good time … there was another dog along, and it was his first time camping, so they were pretty goofy together. They disagreed about fire-starting methods (Indy’s a log-cabin girl, Bolt’s a tepee guy. I explained that it’s not the style of kindling prep, it’s the amount of gasoline that determines the success of the blaze). We had a fine fire, with eyebrows largely intact.
The only rough moment was when it was time to go to bed … Indy was having no part of getting into the tent. She had the classic front-leg-lock going on, with me inside trying to pull her in. She wound up sleeping in the car, but the next day walked willingly into one of the other tents, so obviously the problem wasn't that she didn’t want to be in a tent, but that she didn't want to be in a tent with me. It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. I'm not saying it doesn't hurt; just that I'm used to it.
All in all, it was a nice little escape from the burdens of city life. Garlic burgers, plenty of beer, no digits lost, no creepy banjo music from three sites down. There may even be a song coming out of this ("lyrics" "written" early Saturday morning):
She said that I’m worthless and a mother fucking doucheSure, it may need some finessing, but that's all part of the creative process. I mentioned there was plenty of beer, right?
I said yeah, I got my flaws
But you know what baby? At least my dog ain’t got them … muddy paws …
She asked what’s your favorite scary shark movie of all time
I said I don’t know, but it sure ain’t Jaws
And one more thing darlin’ … my dog ain’t got them … muddy paws …
[UPDATE:] As we were up and out pretty early (in the grand tradition of Flash Camping), I heard words that I never thought I'd hear from the bartender at The Dirty Shame Saloon: "Sorry, we're not open yet." I've never been so proud.