Thursday, April 21, 2011

Chingachgook and the Bumble Bee

Today I went searching for the furious Huron Indians throughout this forest primeval. While I didn't come across any of my mortal enemies, I did come across lots of stuff to sniff and go for several swims. Now don't think I intended to leave my flank unguarded while I was swimming, but you know what they say about intentions. Good intentions, the next thing you know you have a litter of little unintended nipping at your belly.
So after enjoying a good swim, hunting Huron is hard work, I go and check on the guard I left on look out. WHAT!!! He hasn't been watching or guarding. He is taking pictures of dead trees. What is what the dead trees, they aren't as good as live ones to lift a leg on. So after chewing him out, literally, I put my nose in the air and find our way back to my house.

I have to keep stopping to see if he is keeping up every forty feet or so. Leave him alone for a moment and he will get lost, probably wind up tied to a burning pole in a Huron camp. I came across the famous Brownen Arches, serving up more than 8 leg lifts a day.

After many stops and waits while he catches up with me we finally arrive back at my house. I send him in to make us some lunch as punishment for falling down on his guard duties and I went to lay down under the table. Bzzzzz

What? What's that? Bzzzz. Now I'm on full alert. Bzzzz, Bzzzz. Oh no, a killer bumblebee attack. I raced inside and hide, yelling at him to close the screen door. He looks out – moron. Don't look, close the door. Its a full scale attack.

After many scalp raising looks by the bumble bees, we repelled the last of the bumblebees. There were so many, I think I saw at least one. So instead of sitting outside where I could tell him of my famous tracking abilities in the wilds, I have to hide in the bedroom and avoid all visual images of that nasty bumblebee. Life is tough out here in the wilderness, but know this; I Jack Chingachgook am the last of the Welsh Mohicans.

Monday, April 18, 2011

A Tribute to Johnny RIvers

We left the confines of human civilization today and headed to my kind of country. A big fat woods with plenty of places to poop. We had a surprisingly difficult time getting here. Surprising to anyone who does not know how much I suffer his driving. At least he waited until right off the bat to have trouble. Most humans wait a good twenty minutes, not him, he likes to get right to it.

We head off from nice cozy Hilton Head and before I can say, “Got biscuits,” he is driving down this road that reminds me of the poor side of town – cause it was. Yeah, buildings that look like they had a better time falling over than they ever did standing up. I'm watching him out of the corner of my eye. He ain’t saying nuthin, but I can tell he knows he is lost. I mean lost? Ten minutes on the road and he is lost. This is not a good omen for our trip.

The road gets narrow, than it gets real narrow, branches hitting the side of my house. He won't admit he's lost and ask me, but then I see his eyes pop out. So I turn to look at what he is looking at and I have to laugh. There is a sign that says “End of Paved Road.”

He stops, looks at me, looks at the sign, looks at me. I'm trying not to laugh cause I could have told him it was the wrong road a long time ago. Finally I have to say to him, “So now what Magellan?” Well the words are barely out of my mouth and he just guns it. Oh my god, he is going on this dirt road.

I guess you have to look at it this way. Do you go in reverse for 10 miles or to you go forward and make it worse. He went for making it worse, but I have to admit it was the right choice. We finally came out on a highway. Highway, right. This highway is no wider than my driveway back home.

It turned out well, and we cruised for ever down roads like this for the rest of the way. Finally about 5 o'clock “Dinner anyone?”, he pulls into the forest where we are staying.

We drive through some really pretty woods and finally come to our spot. The path leading into our spot is narrow, big trees all around, the path goes down hill and for some reason he has to back into this place. Well, half an hour later he got in without taking down half the forest.

So while he worked on getting my house all hooked up to the stuff for water and electric, moving the side out, etc, etc, etc, I went exploring.
Hey this is a super place. There is no one near us at all, the campsite is really nice and the best part is there is a lake right next to us. I went swimming. Boy oh boy that felt good. So good I barked and know what? I could hear myself echo. So I barked some more cause I thought it was another pup who sounded just like me. I sang, I barked and the other echo kept repeating everything. I had a lot of fun and went back to see how he was doing. He had everything ready, so I said, “What are you making me for dinner?”

Hmm, I can do burritos.

Down to South Carolina and up to no good

Okay, so after three days on the road with him terrorizing other drivers and me, he finally got me safely to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. Three days and nights of rain, stopping in rest areas, big crowded truck stops which are not very conducive to me wandering about looking for a good place to leave my mark.  He thought I would like to go off with those cows and do it, yeah right.  I want to tip toe through cow flops like Sooby Doo wants to see ghosts.
Blog Photos

They say that Virginia is for lovers, but I say Virginia is for suicidal people, besides I never saw one French Poodle in the entire state. Those winding mountain roads all seem to drop down from crazy heights like a rock with a curved bridge at the bottom that is not so wide, no, no, not so wide at all. I kept my eyes closed the whole time he was driving, I think he did too because he kept screaming about morons who design roads like this. What the heck did he expect driving a 14 ton vehicle, it would handle like a Ferrari?

Anyway, at least one place we stayed knew how to treat someone as important as I am.  They even put out a welcome sign for me, trying to get on my good side no doubt.

I was ever so glad to get to North Carolina and flat ground again so that if he drifted off the road I might survive. The rain stopped in the morning so I was able to go and poop in peace, but you think that was the end of it, think again. Instead of staying in North Carolina where there are bathrooms aplenty for me, he drives into South Carolina. He is so lame.

Now my eyes were clouding and turning yellow, I really had to go. So he pulls over after I complained and guess what? They had more signs in this place that were totally pet unfriendly. No pets, here, no pets there, until finally he finds a place I can go and it is between the noisy trucks and the more noisy highway. You ever tried to have a relaxing poop when trucks are whizzing by and making so much noise? You think its easy being me. I'll give him this, South Carolina is where it began to get really warm We drove with the windows open like it was summer and I was low riding looking for a foxy English Sheepdog.

No luck on that though, but now came the tricky part. We drove into Hilton Head Island and they have no signs, none, zero, nada, no puppy no. You have to guess where everything is. Even McDonald's is not allowed to have those golden arches, plus everything is hidden behind trees so forget about me finding a Pet Smart store to get some good exotic biscuits. Somehow he found a store that sold stuff he said we needed and cut off more cars to make a last second turn into a driveway. A last second turn into a driveway in this motor home is like a last minute turn on an air craft carrier. You might make it, but it won't be pretty. The “we” of stuff we need was not exactly true either. He came back with all kinds of stuff, none of it was for me..."we"...sure won't fall for that one again.

So anyway back out onto the road and something called rush hour. Before long his little annoying GPS machine is screaming we have to make a U-Turn and he is in the wrong lane. Guess he figured that we were bigger than everyone cause he just cut across two lanes of cars who were so happy with him they leaned on the horns a lot. I suppose that is like cheering, but I didn't understand all the hand signals they made. You know, the ones with one finger extended. I winked at them from my window just to be polite.

We drive down this long scarey road with trees and something called Spanish Moss hanging all over, looked like “Night of the Living Cat” to me, so I kept my window up. He says this is the place we are staying. Well, it is pretty awesome. Right on the water, I can walk all over the place without getting hit by a truck and we are staying for four days. Now I'm looking forward to a good long peaceful nap and woe be to any cat that comes near and bugs me.