WHO'S NOT OF CAMPING - Opening chapter (Scroll down for previous chapters)

      Every year my wife would plan summer vacations for our family.  If there’s anything that will draw families closer together, it’s not family vacations.  But they’re an excellent stress test.  Everyone who passes the test gets to remain in the family for another year.     

     At the end of each school year, Connie had already planned our summer stress test.  Included in the test were the Backseat Turf Wars, which the kids trained for during the school year.     Also included were the Tent Wars, considered epics by our family and all eyewitness reports.  The Tent Wars may have been the greatest spectacle since Cecil B. DeMille’s Ten Commandments.  The tent and I clashed over starring roles.  After several scenes, I tried to return the tent and get a refund.  But the store’s return policy wouldn’t accept tents that had anger management problems.    

     If this were not sufficient stress, I would char-broil my uncle’s camp lantern, or we would listen to our son tell how he was capturing some terrific video with our friend’s video camera, when the battery pack got loose, and jumped over the side of a cliff.           

     Of course, the highlight of any vacation is capturing it on film.  Unfortunately, most of ours refused to be captured.

     One summer we were touring Old Fort Edmonton in northern Alberta, Canada.  My wife was on point with the camera, getting some of the best pictures she had never taken. That’s right!  At the end of our tour, she discovered there was no film in the camera.  It provided us with some excellent bonus stress. The kids and I threw in a little extra by reminding her that it wasn’t a self-loading camera.  We also made a few other light-hearted comments, which I won’t mention here. 

      As we left the park, the kids walked behind me.  I walked slowly since I could find no one to walk behind.  Once our fears of bodily harm subsided, we joined Connie in the car.  Driving off, I was certain we had lost a trip planner.  But after a couple days, she was speaking again. 

     When we got home we hung several empty picture frames on the wall, to commemorate our trip.  They drew more attention than the pictures we had captured.  All the frames were labeled with historic sites of Old Fort Edmonton.  Friends looked long and hard, especially hard, at the empty frames.  

     “These are from our trip to Edmonton,” I explained.  “They were taken without film.”

    
     “Very creative,” one of them said.    

     “I like what you’ve done,” said another. 

      They could only imagine what Old Fort Edmonton looked like back in the 1800’s.

     Returning from vacation with the entire family was considered an act of God, worthy of a call from the President, inviting us to the White House to honor our achievement. 

 

 

To be continued...check back soon

                      

DOOLEY- Final Segment (Scroll down for earlier segments)

    

 

     Dooley took eating very seriously.  One evening, my friend, Dave, came by the house with some freshly caught crab.  Although Dave is questionable, crabs are always welcome in our home.  So I invited them in.  I placed the four crabs in the utility sink.  Dooley had been resting, in preparation for his next feeding, when the smell of fresh seafood caught his attention.  He jumped up onto the utility sink for a better look.  I could see he was impressed.   Here was a four-course seafood delight, inviting him to dinner.   He should have declined the invitation.  But since he had never tried crab, he figured it was the perfect time for a sample. 

      Eyeing an easy catch, Dooley jumped into the sink.  The sample was brief.  It was quickly followed by a loud commotion.  At the same time,  Dooley began ricocheting around the sink like a pinball in a pinball machine.  One crab had a firm grip on his right hind leg.  It looked like rodeo time as Dooley twisted, gnawed, and bucked, trying to shake off the crab.  I knew he didn’t want this guy staying on for the full count.  So, amidst the screeches and flailing claws, I laid my life on the line to set Dooley free.  He cleared the sink by a wide margin and quickly disappeared.  Several days later, certain that the crabs were gone, he reappeared.  I don't think he ever regained his appetite for seafood. 

     The episode also strained our relationship.  He thought I was using him as crab bait.  He had completely forgotten that it was his idea to sample the crab, and that I had rescued him from being a three-legged cat.  Still, he gave me the cold shoulder.  

     I would have to live with rejection if I was going to be a cat owner.  In fact, most cat lovers thrive on rejection.  These people aren’t happy unless they get a pink slip, lose their job, or have a door slammed in their face.  They will only accept no for an answer.      

     Having Dooley did teach our kids a lot about responsibility.  They learned commands like, “Dad, you need to let the cat out”, “Dad, you need to let the cat in”, “Dad, you need to feed the cat”, “Dad, the cat ate something he didn’t like.  Mom wants you to clean it up”, “Dad, can you turn on the TV?  Dooley wants to watch ‘Animals are Real People’.” 

     Oh well, what better way to teach your children about responsibility, than caring for a pet.

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DOOLEY - Segment 3 (Scroll down for earlier segments)


     During the reign of Dooley, I learned that cats love the game of “Dodge Car.”  They play the game to increase their speed, agility, quickness, and eye/paw coordination.  The object of the game is to see how long you can stare into the headlights of an oncoming vehicle before scooting to the other side of the road.  To add suspense to the game, you may run into the middle of the road, give a couple good body fakes (one way, then the other), seeing if you can cause the oncoming vehicle to swerve around you.  You get two points for crossing the road and a five point bonus for causing the vehicle to swerve.  If you try the body fake, and the vehicle doesn’t swerve, you lose. Game over. Fortunately, Dooley preferred Catopoly, a cat lover’s version of Monopoly.  (Yes, Catopoly is a real board game.)     

     The longer Dooley ruled, the more I learned about cats.  I discovered from watching a documentary that having a cat is good therapy in the war against aging.  Petting your cat can add several years to your lifespan.  Note: This does not work if you are allergic to cats.  If you experience swollen, red, itchy, watery eyes, nasal congestion, chronic sore throat, coughing, sneezing, wheezing, or loss of life, consult your doctor.  He may advise you to move, and let the cat have the house.  If you experience loss of life, someone else will have to move you.  

     Not being allergic to cats, I was always looking for Dooley so I could get in a few good strokes.  He tried to hide, hoping he would outlive me, and enjoy his remaining years in quiet solitude.   But I refused to give up.  I’d come home for lunch and spend the entire hour petting him.  Then I’d go back to work starving.  If I woke up in the middle of the night, I would pet him.  The more time I spent petting him, the more exhausted I became.  I was aging rapidly.  If I kept this up, the cat would still be around long after I was gone.  I finally decided I would be happy with a very short life.  At least I would outlive the cat, hopefully.

     I also learned that your personality often resembles the personality of your pet.  My wife had suspected this for some time.  “It makes perfect sense,” she said.  “You’re always lying around until you smell food or hear pans rattling around in the kitchen.  Then you instantly snap to attention.  I just hope you don’t start coughing up hairballs.   

     So petting your cat may increase your lifespan, but if you’re going to spend that time coughing up hairballs, you might want to settle for the short life, or live by yourself.   

     If you truly want to know your cat, you need to understand his body language.  This will make you aware of his needs.  For example, if his ears are lying flat, hair standing straight up, tail six times its normal size, he’s in a crouching position with claws extended, and you can hear a hissing sound, it probably means you forgot to feed him, and may be in imminent danger.  At this time, you should begin backing very slowly toward the door, avoiding any quick movements, which could cause him to use your body as a scratching post.  When you get outside, quickly shut the door.  Then look for an open window and throw in a can of food.  He can open it himself.  After he has eaten, ask him if you can come back in if you’ll promise never to forget again.

 

 

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