In late July Wobbie, Wifey and Wifey’s German Shepard dog Maggie Mae decided to go camping. The three of them gathered their goodies and piled up the Nissan Altima.
Wifey had been there before, she remembered the giant Sequoia trees scattered throughout the camp grounds. She had all the supplies they would need: a tent, sleeping bags, food for all and cooking utensils.
Wobbie knew how to set up the tent. He knew how to build a fire. He knew how to roast marshmallows. And most of all, he knew how to play his guitar underneath the stars.
Maggie never knew about camping. She never knew what if felt like to run up and down the coast line chasing the crashing waves. She never knew that the salt water would make herself sick. She never knew who to choose as they ran in opposite directions along the shore line.
There were so many new adventures waiting for her. “We’ll see tall trees, Mae Mae,” Wifey said. Maggie wiggled.
“We’ll see squirrels,” said Wifey. Maggie tugged and pulled on the leash.
“We may even see a skunk,” Wifey said. Wobbie was not so pleased to hear the news that we may see a skunk or two. He moaned and he groaned and warned that would not be the thing to do. They piled back into the car from their day along the beautiful California Northern Coast and drove to the campsite.
Wobbie, Wifey and Maggie Mae began to settle in and set up our site. Once everything was set and the car was empty, Maggie jumped back into the car. She plopped right down with a heavy sigh. She glanced at them with glassy eyes. Wifey giggled. “No skunks will squirt you, Mae Mae,” Wifey said as she snuggled next to her and rubbed her head.
After a long evening hike and a campfire meal, they showered up and got ready for bed. The air mattress was pumped full of air. The sleeping bags were spread out with piles of blankets laying on top. Maggie Mae snuck in from behind them and dived right in the middle. Wifey giggled. Wobbie groaned.
With the last crackles and pops, the fire died down. The last music notes drifted through the cool night air. The guitar was tucked away. Everyone climbed inside the tent. They were all nestled beneath the layers of blankets. Maggie Mae perked up. Wifey looked at Wobbie. Wobbie looked at Wifey. Neither of them wanted to take her out. The zipper was barely around the frame and Maggie dashed out. What could it be?
On the other side of the tent they heard a whimper and a stumble. No sooner could they get out the door before she came crashing in rubbing her face up and down the blankets. What could it be? Seconds later they knew. SKUNK!