Doggonit! The boy went to camp without four-legged BFF
Published 1:30 am Saturday, July 23, 2016
Dear Boy,
I hope you are having a lousy time at Boy Scout camp. I don’t understand why you didn’t bring me with you. I’m an expert hiker! I can poop in the woods like nobody’s business. Before you adopted me, I lived in Texas. That means I’m practically a cowboy.
Who’s going to protect you from bears? Dad? Yeah, right. He’ll be too busy volunteering.
You obviously weren’t thinking clearly when you left or you would have brought me along to be your guard dog. I’m the bravest poodle there is. Nothing scares me. Except trash trucks (shudder). And balloons (double shudder). And raccoons (triple shudder). And the laundry room (quadruple shudder). And sleeping by myself (shuddering so much I can’t count that high).
In case you care about me at all, you might like to know that Mom and the girl have been feeding me beefy biscuits and taking me for walks. But they don’t let me lick their faces and nobody is sneaking me treats from the dinner table. Not that I’d want what those ladies are eating. Yuck. Without you and Dad home, mom has been serving soup and salad every night. She says that since the girl doesn’t eat meat, there’s no point in cooking a carnivorous dinner.
The house is so quiet right now, it’s weird. Nobody does handstands in the middle of the family room, or chimney steps up the hallway. I haven’t heard anybody play guitar all week and I’m starting to forget what “Smoke on the Water” sounds like.
The other day I sniffed around for secret stashes of crackers or used Popsicle sticks and I couldn’t find any. It’s like our house isn’t a home anymore.
Today Mom found me in your room nestled in some clothes on the floor. She took the whole pile to the laundry room. But don’t worry, I still have a cache of your stinky socks underneath the couch.
What I don’t understand is why you left for Fire Mountain Scout Camp in the first place. Fishing, shooting and swimming sounds lame. A 40-foot rappelling tower? A zipline and merit badges? Excuse me while I yawn. I’m sure you would have had a lot more fun staying home and playing Minecraft while I napped at your feet. Art, woodcarving and leatherwork can’t compete with Netflixing with your poodle.
When you come home you should give me a big chunk of cheese from the fridge. And then we’ll go for the longest walk ever and you’ll let me sniff all the bushes Mom won’t let me sniff. Does that sound like a good plan?
I *might* forgive you for leaving me by that point. If you come back smelling really awful that would help.
Until then, I have your dirty socks to console me.
Love and slobber,
Merlin
Jennifer Bardsley is an Edmonds mom of two, and author of the book “Genesis Girl.” Find her online on Instagram @the_ya_gal, Twitter @jennbardsley or at teachingmybabytoread.com.
