Camping

I hate camping… Correction, I really, really, really, times infinity hate camping. For the life of me, I don’t know why my parents think I enjoy it. Oh why oh why do they torment me so? T.T

First of all, I am a city dog – correction, I am a cosmopolitan dog. Blame it on my part poodle heritage, but I like soft linens, fluffy pillows, and cushiony beds and sofas. Unfortunately, when my parents go camping, they go tent camping! Sure they have a Coleman air mattress, but it’s not the same as a nice bed with 1500-thread count Egyptian linen.

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Also, I hate bugs. When I was at the shelter, I developed a fear of flies (pteronarcophobia is the scientific term). So when an occasional fly comes into the house I still freak out. Alas, when you go camping, there are flies everywhere, along with bees, mosquitoes, moths, ants (fire and black), and weird bugs that even my parents freak out about. Yucky!

Another thing I dislike about camping is the lack of air conditioning. Having a tent fan is not the same as A/C. We live in the 21st century, yet my parents seem to enjoy living in the medieval ages! They [my parents] are such weirdos.

At night sometimes you hear scary sounds like coyotes howling and drunk campers singing. I was even told that there are bears in the mountain – and not the cute, cuddly, stuffed kind either! SMH. Camping is dangerous!

Annoyance, inconvenience, and danger aside, I guess camping isn’t too bad since I get to spend an entire weekend with mom and pops while getting to pee and poo in the woods and chase squirrels. Also, going hiking along the trails is fun too, but then again there are bugs everywhere on the trails. Eeeewwww!

I can’t wait for winter to come so that camping season will be over.

–Charlie–

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