The cool mornings here in the high desert of south-central Oregon have the crew and me reluctant to come out from under the covers.
Bridget, however, has an urgent need to go. I go out first and lift her out. Being a good girl, she does her business and we’re both back inside in a flash. It’s about six a.m.
About an hour later Spike has to go.
Since we’ve been camped at Williamson River National Forest Campground, it’s been nearly empty. One reason I like that is I can let the crew out to do their first-potty-of-the-day without having to stand out there with them. I watch through the window. Well, this morning I let Spike out . . .
You know what’s next.
He nonchalantly strolls where I can’t see him from the window. Uh-oh. He’s up to something. I throw on my jacket, slip into my sandals, and jump out of the BLT. Sure enough, I see Spike sprinting down the campground lane toward the tenters who are camped almost half-way around the loop.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Spike!” I mutter under my breath.
I chase after him. My pajama bottoms are a little long, causing me to hobble to keep from tripping. Wild bed hair adds to my look.
I can’t call Spike to stop. One, because he doesn’t hear well. Two, because he wouldn’t mind me if he could hear me, and Three, because it’s only seven o’clock and the tenters aren’t up yet.
By the time I catch up with Spike, he’s sniffing the outside of their tent.
He looks at me as if to say, “What are YOU doing here?” I grab the little trespassing criminal and carry him back home. My feet are freezing. No going back to bed now. I dump Spike into the BLT and start to fix the percolator for coffee.
Spike begins to bark that bark I know so well.
Translation: “Stop what you’re doing this very instant and serve me.”
Bridget’s sleepy face appears from under the covers. I place her on the floor and pour out some kibble.
“Well, good morning, guys. I guess another day has begun.”
P.S. Here’s the photos I promised in yesterday’s post about the Williamson River float. The really good pics were taken by Bill (the ones that are date-stamped). I’m including some of mine, too.
Williamson River Float