(Our holiday weekend destination...)As a result, this year’s Memorial Day is a celebration of sorts – like an anniversary of “the big decision”. This decision made me have to walk into the office of the General Manager of the firm that I worked for in Minneapolis and tell her in no uncertain terms that we had decided to drop out of the rat race and take a gamble on Idaho. Of course, she told me to do what makes me happy. I always feel fortunate when I encounter people like that. It just makes me feel really lucky, you know?
So this weekend got me thinking about milestones and their consequences. Especially because this weekend was Lucy’s first camping trip. Lucy is our Labrador retriever. I picked her up from a nice lesbian couple that lived near Lake Nokomis in Minneapolis. I dropped about one hundred fifty bucks on her cute butt, and then drove home with her. Tim was of course completely unaware of the situation on the day that I decided to do it. We had talked for months about a dog, but he was basically duped into Lucy. Once I pulled into our driveway, I came inside and alerted him that I needed help getting something out of the front seat. He opened the passenger side door, turned to me and said, “What did you do?”
(Wherever you are taking me this weekend better be good)Indeed, what did I do? Well, a handful of friends around me professed with certainty that raising a puppy into a dog is some kind of child rearing preparation. But I think that if you have been married for a short time and haven’t had kids yet and you are quickly approaching the age of forty whether you like it or not, there will be certain types around you searching for signs that a child is coming. Lucy raised a red flag, and I had opinions on all sides of me concerning the inevitability of growing our family with not just a canine, but another human as well.
(So much air, so little time)(Sidebar: yeah, okay. You people and your baby-crazy brains. Did it ever occur to you that I do things my own way? What’re ya? New? Just met me? I wanted a dog, so that is what I got. If I ever want a baby – well, that is what I will try and get. And by the way, the urge hasn’t struck yet to procreate and the dog is totally fulfilling our need to nurture, so back off).
My good friend Kurt was stunned that I got a puppy - his reasoning? “Dogs are harder than kids,” he said to me with a serious look on his face. His is not a serious person, so I took that comment to heart. It echoed in my brain when Lucy ate Tim’s favorite pair of hiking boots (and not inexpensive boots, either). I remembered again Kurt’s somber warning clearly the day that Lucy escaped the confines of the laundry room and went hog wild chewing up CDs, a phone recharging cord, and various other items that meant we had to figure out another means of confining her.
Lucy will be two years old in November, so she is still very much a puppy. Even worse, she is kind of like an adolescent now, so puppy-ish yet set in her ways at the same time. We brought her along this weekend to camp hoping that it would be a lesson to her on many points: you have to stay near us (is the shock collar full charged?); you are sleeping in a tent; you cannot chase every animal that you see; bark when necessary, which often means not at all; no begging for food – house rules still apply; etc.
I am happy to report that Lucy did a swell job. After three hours of driving on the first day, we reached our final destination in Wyoming to convalesce on Bureau of Land Management Property (thank you, National Park Service membership program!). The perfect site chosen, Lucy hung around during the time that we set up camp, not wandering off as we had worried that she would. She hiked with no problem whatsoever – never going far enough to get the ol’ shock collar zap – and would come back when called. Late in the afternoon, we decided to nap in order to get her used to the idea of sleeping in a tent. After about a twenty minute acclimatization process in which she sat in the middle of our tent and stared at its ceiling, walls, windows and the like, she finally curled into a ball and took a nap that lasted longer than an hour.
(Look where I slept!)Later in the evening, as we hosted one of Tim’s old friends at our cozy campfire, walked to the point near our site that provided a spectacular view of the sunset, and prepared to turn in for the evening, Lucy seemed to become more and more restless. She was hanging around the car a lot. It occurred to me that she wanted to jump in the backseat and have us drive her home – for – what else would we do in this situation? She’s been on all day hiking trips with us, but never an overnight stay such as this one.
(Just another beautiful sunset Out West)We coaxed her back into the tent for the evening and she did what every good dog should do – she hunkered down near our feet, curled up in a warm blonde ball, and went to sleep.
And so it went for the rest of the weekend. Our second day provided a chance for Lucy to swim in a pond that was within sight of our camp, but not terribly close to us. It was a long downhill walk into a valley to get there, and an even longer walk back up the hill to our tent. Once we had arrived at our destination, though, we hung around the pond and watched Lucy swim like crazy… the… whole… time. I mean, had I tried to keep up, I would have definitely induced a coronary.
(Hiking with Mom)
(Lucy's Pond)
(Swim! Swim like the wind!)
(Long hike home...)
(The wildflowers were really poppin')
(More of the same...)This dog is full of boundless energy, but on that day, she managed to really wear herself out. As we took our time preparing and cooking a spectacular dinner of kabobs, she kept creeping closer to the tent. She finally went in. Then she came out and lay by the fire again. Then she went back into the tent. The she came out. Then she went back in. Her desperate attempt at dropping a hint (when are we going to bed, I am TIRED – COME ON!) was finally taken around 10:30PM. We all climbed into the tent at Lucy’s behest. Her work done, she again cuddled up to our feet.
The three of us endured a terrible night of sleep that can be attributed to a wind storm that blew just above the trees that crowded our campsite, but never seemed to really affect us in any dangerous way. I actually did have a dream that a large branch from the fir we slept beneath came crashing down upon our tent; I rolled over to wake Tim up and found that he had never really gone to sleep. Even now, I wonder how I dreamt at all, not having any recollection of sleeping for more than ten minutes at a time that night.
But Lucy – she took it like a champ. If anything, we were worried that the weather system that bid us a fond farewell on our last night in camp would cause her, at least, to bark. Or howl. I was really waiting to hear some howling. Not a peep. I honestly believe that she slept as poorly as we did, but she stayed in her spot down near our feet and kept quiet.
(Proud Papa)All in all, Memorial Day weekend did not disappoint. It lived up to its expectation by providing us with some kind of milestone to mark – to look back upon and remember as one of our “firsts”. We hope that by this time next year, Lucy will be more of a dog and not so much a puppy. We hope that her aging will provide a calmer demeanor and that she will ease up on her tendency to bark at everything. But none of that bad puppy teenaged behavior struck this weekend.
("Say, I didn't come all this way to get cheated out of a kabob.")She is well on her way to becoming a “real” dog.
("So seriously, uh, which one is mine?")
1 comment:
You spit in the eye of your heffalump when you moved to Idaho!
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