My camping trip last night with Cujo
Ott
Posts: 403
Whew!! We survived. Somehow. I have been camping since I was knee high to a fly. And last night's camping experience was the most surreal, nightmarish scene which has ever played out before my eyes while in the "wild." I felt like Harold Crick in Stranger Than Fiction (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0420223/) with Stephen King wielding the magic pen. Holy Shit.
Mercedes, Jacob, and I were planning to make a quick jaunt up to the Guadalupe State Park to pitch the tent and get a little wet (sexual inuendo intended). As any good movie would, the plot twists right away; acting responsibly, I called ahead to check site availability. To my chagrin, they were all booked for the night (strange on a weekday, I thought). So, I found the closest park and called them. Blanco State Park is minutes away from there and only forty minutes or so from the girl's apartment. And, as would be necessary for the plot of this sick movie to progress along its horrific path, they had plenty of spots available. Great.
We got on the road late, but got to the park in plenty of time to set up camp and drop a hook in the water while reading a bit. Maybe. The tent gave me more problems than it has to this date, probably because I was doing my bext to grunt and groan and sweat while fulfilling my man role for Mercedes. But, like the unstoppable team we've been the last half year, we persevered and were able to erect the tent. A little banging and sweating works every time.
Next stop, river side. I must say this, the park is nice; there's only a few sites, maybe fifteen of each variety (water, electric, sewer, etc.). And it was very quiet, directly off the highway, so it was close enough for ice, beer, and what not. But, we set up shop along the banks of the mighty Blanco River. Jacob, as he has been prone to do lately, grabs the rod and reel and drops a hook in the water immediately. It was fairly cool outside (at least for Texas in late June), and there was a crisp breeze, so Mercedes and I just sat on the banks; she read her gossip mag and I was there to untangle fishing line as needed. I never got to open the fabulous book I am reading (American Dream by Mailer-awesome). Jacob jumped in after a while, but we stayed dry.
At sunset, we headed back to camp to fire up the grill and chow down on burgers and dogs. Of course, we'd left the starter fluid behind so we needed to go get some. After entering three stores, and buying things at all of them (short-term memory problems, anyone?), we had all we needed and went "home."
Dinner was uneventful, and we retired to the tent to get the boy to lay down and watch a movie on the computer-roughing it, I know! Mercedes brought a cot we had to figure out the assembly of under the light of two crappy (one and a half, really) flashlights. It was not fun, or easy, as my shin can attest; it took a blow from a temperamental rod. But, after more stretching and grunting, the bed was made.
So, we all were ready to get some shut-eye. Mercedes was out in minutes, and Jacob watched Jumanji until the battery died on the machine. Sleep time. I tossed and turned on the hard ground for a couple hours and had just passed out when-WOOF!WOOF!WOOF.
Landin was on Jacob's end of the tent trying to burst through and get at something on the outside. I got him to calm down, but the animal ran around to Mercedes' corner and started again, Lando went gunning for it, and the whole tent was awake and scared out of our wits. I was able to figure out quickly that it was a dog of some sort. I saw the silhouette and it was a stocky, fat summumabitch. I was weary of shining the light in its eyes and enraging the beast further. Somewhere in the mayhem, Lando got loose of my grip and started the ruckus all over again. I was straddling my lovely, and patient girlfriend's cot and leaned right to grab my mutt. At the same exact moment, Mercedes sat up and I lifted my left leg to lunge at Landin. SMACK!!! I totally busted her in the ear with my knee cap. "Oooh baby, I am soooo sorry. Are you okay?" and a hand on the back were greeted by a short, sharp, "Just don't fucking talk to me right now!"
Ouch. Well deserved, and understood (I love you baby!), but not what the comforter in me wanted to hear. I grabbed Lando, laid down with him and Jacob, and rubbed his belly, keeping him subdued enough. Meanwhile, my beautiful, battered girlfriend was laying there, probably cursing me out and rubbing her throbbing dome.
So, this was us for the next two hours. Held hostage by this beast. I got a good look at him and saw it was an American Pitbull. He was feet away from our tent, just breathing at us. Waiting. My phone, as well as the map with the important numbers on it, was twenty yards away in my truck cabin. Of course. Not knowing the dog's temperament, I was hesitant to risk the run to my truck, opting instead for the less than superhero-y choice of laying in the tent, trying to bore the Pit enough to go bother someone else. There were a ton of dogs all over the park, but apparently, Lando had what he wanted.
He wandered off after a couple of hours, and we were all awake still. And then Jacob had to pee. We went outside real quick and he took care of that. Just I unzipped the door to reenter the tent, Hercules, as I dubbed him, came running up out of nowhere. Lando lunged; Hercules did the same. Not thinking, I reached down between them and directed my dog into the tent, grabbing the beast by his colar and leading him away. Jacob didn't quite see the severity of the situation, so he wasn't doing a great job corralling Lando. He was startled beyond belief, and overcome by the giggles kids get in tense situations sometimes. My awesome, and did I say patient already? girlfriend helped him and I began my journey with this psycho dog. He was effing HUGE. His neck was immense, his jowels were fist-sized, and he looked as if he had a dailt regimen, including, but not limited to an hour on a treadmill, and numerous sets of doggie push-ups. He was a very nice, calm dog (when he wasn't trying to burst through the wall of my tent to attack us). We lapped the campground three times or so, trying in vain to arouse the irresponsible pet owners from THEIR sound slumber to take this furry burden out of my hands. Not gonna happen. I didn't want to call the cops, because this wasn't exactly a lights and sirens kind of emergency. After stalling enough to garner a suggestion from my thoughful, helpful teammate Mercedes, I called the office for the park, but the after hour emergency option gives you the local Sheriff's office. Called them, they said wake the Park Host (retired old couple who sells wood and rides a golf cart around all day, encouraging melanoma to set up shop on his epidermis). I did, and at that point, the dog had gone to bother some other camper beginning his day, as the sun was rising already.
"Oh yeah, I saw that dog." That was about all the help I got from that old codger. "The office opens at 8:00, so I'll send them back there to your site when they get here." Keep in mind, it isn't even seven yet.
Great, thanks. Meanwhile, Mercedes, Lando, and Jacob are in the tent being held captive. The oldtimer didn't understand that if I went back to the campsite, Herc would follow, starting shit with Landin, scaring my kid, and further endearing me to Mercedes. So, thanks, but no thanks. One more lap around the sites. As I neared the host's site again, his wife was walking their dog. Herc bolted from my side and sprinted towards them howling. The old lady lost it, the old man intervened, and the stray beast was now not my problem. Cujo crisis of '08 averted.
I feel ripped off, because I would have loved to have seen the irresponsible owner and be able to ask them how THEY slept. But, we were all safe. We broke camp finally and were eady to split. And after some convincing, I was able to get the night's stay comped. I realize the park wasn't responsible for the dog, my gripe was that when I sought help from the park host, he did nothing. The office personnel reiterated that I needed to wake the host up and get help, but I explained it did no good in that case. Maybe next time, I'll do like Saucy said and come strapped with a gat.
Perhaps state parks could keep a log of animals entering the park, so the owner can be quickly reached. I don't know.
Thanks for reading, I know it was long-winded.
Ott
Mercedes, Jacob, and I were planning to make a quick jaunt up to the Guadalupe State Park to pitch the tent and get a little wet (sexual inuendo intended). As any good movie would, the plot twists right away; acting responsibly, I called ahead to check site availability. To my chagrin, they were all booked for the night (strange on a weekday, I thought). So, I found the closest park and called them. Blanco State Park is minutes away from there and only forty minutes or so from the girl's apartment. And, as would be necessary for the plot of this sick movie to progress along its horrific path, they had plenty of spots available. Great.
We got on the road late, but got to the park in plenty of time to set up camp and drop a hook in the water while reading a bit. Maybe. The tent gave me more problems than it has to this date, probably because I was doing my bext to grunt and groan and sweat while fulfilling my man role for Mercedes. But, like the unstoppable team we've been the last half year, we persevered and were able to erect the tent. A little banging and sweating works every time.
Next stop, river side. I must say this, the park is nice; there's only a few sites, maybe fifteen of each variety (water, electric, sewer, etc.). And it was very quiet, directly off the highway, so it was close enough for ice, beer, and what not. But, we set up shop along the banks of the mighty Blanco River. Jacob, as he has been prone to do lately, grabs the rod and reel and drops a hook in the water immediately. It was fairly cool outside (at least for Texas in late June), and there was a crisp breeze, so Mercedes and I just sat on the banks; she read her gossip mag and I was there to untangle fishing line as needed. I never got to open the fabulous book I am reading (American Dream by Mailer-awesome). Jacob jumped in after a while, but we stayed dry.
At sunset, we headed back to camp to fire up the grill and chow down on burgers and dogs. Of course, we'd left the starter fluid behind so we needed to go get some. After entering three stores, and buying things at all of them (short-term memory problems, anyone?), we had all we needed and went "home."
Dinner was uneventful, and we retired to the tent to get the boy to lay down and watch a movie on the computer-roughing it, I know! Mercedes brought a cot we had to figure out the assembly of under the light of two crappy (one and a half, really) flashlights. It was not fun, or easy, as my shin can attest; it took a blow from a temperamental rod. But, after more stretching and grunting, the bed was made.
So, we all were ready to get some shut-eye. Mercedes was out in minutes, and Jacob watched Jumanji until the battery died on the machine. Sleep time. I tossed and turned on the hard ground for a couple hours and had just passed out when-WOOF!WOOF!WOOF.
Landin was on Jacob's end of the tent trying to burst through and get at something on the outside. I got him to calm down, but the animal ran around to Mercedes' corner and started again, Lando went gunning for it, and the whole tent was awake and scared out of our wits. I was able to figure out quickly that it was a dog of some sort. I saw the silhouette and it was a stocky, fat summumabitch. I was weary of shining the light in its eyes and enraging the beast further. Somewhere in the mayhem, Lando got loose of my grip and started the ruckus all over again. I was straddling my lovely, and patient girlfriend's cot and leaned right to grab my mutt. At the same exact moment, Mercedes sat up and I lifted my left leg to lunge at Landin. SMACK!!! I totally busted her in the ear with my knee cap. "Oooh baby, I am soooo sorry. Are you okay?" and a hand on the back were greeted by a short, sharp, "Just don't fucking talk to me right now!"
Ouch. Well deserved, and understood (I love you baby!), but not what the comforter in me wanted to hear. I grabbed Lando, laid down with him and Jacob, and rubbed his belly, keeping him subdued enough. Meanwhile, my beautiful, battered girlfriend was laying there, probably cursing me out and rubbing her throbbing dome.
So, this was us for the next two hours. Held hostage by this beast. I got a good look at him and saw it was an American Pitbull. He was feet away from our tent, just breathing at us. Waiting. My phone, as well as the map with the important numbers on it, was twenty yards away in my truck cabin. Of course. Not knowing the dog's temperament, I was hesitant to risk the run to my truck, opting instead for the less than superhero-y choice of laying in the tent, trying to bore the Pit enough to go bother someone else. There were a ton of dogs all over the park, but apparently, Lando had what he wanted.
He wandered off after a couple of hours, and we were all awake still. And then Jacob had to pee. We went outside real quick and he took care of that. Just I unzipped the door to reenter the tent, Hercules, as I dubbed him, came running up out of nowhere. Lando lunged; Hercules did the same. Not thinking, I reached down between them and directed my dog into the tent, grabbing the beast by his colar and leading him away. Jacob didn't quite see the severity of the situation, so he wasn't doing a great job corralling Lando. He was startled beyond belief, and overcome by the giggles kids get in tense situations sometimes. My awesome, and did I say patient already? girlfriend helped him and I began my journey with this psycho dog. He was effing HUGE. His neck was immense, his jowels were fist-sized, and he looked as if he had a dailt regimen, including, but not limited to an hour on a treadmill, and numerous sets of doggie push-ups. He was a very nice, calm dog (when he wasn't trying to burst through the wall of my tent to attack us). We lapped the campground three times or so, trying in vain to arouse the irresponsible pet owners from THEIR sound slumber to take this furry burden out of my hands. Not gonna happen. I didn't want to call the cops, because this wasn't exactly a lights and sirens kind of emergency. After stalling enough to garner a suggestion from my thoughful, helpful teammate Mercedes, I called the office for the park, but the after hour emergency option gives you the local Sheriff's office. Called them, they said wake the Park Host (retired old couple who sells wood and rides a golf cart around all day, encouraging melanoma to set up shop on his epidermis). I did, and at that point, the dog had gone to bother some other camper beginning his day, as the sun was rising already.
"Oh yeah, I saw that dog." That was about all the help I got from that old codger. "The office opens at 8:00, so I'll send them back there to your site when they get here." Keep in mind, it isn't even seven yet.
Great, thanks. Meanwhile, Mercedes, Lando, and Jacob are in the tent being held captive. The oldtimer didn't understand that if I went back to the campsite, Herc would follow, starting shit with Landin, scaring my kid, and further endearing me to Mercedes. So, thanks, but no thanks. One more lap around the sites. As I neared the host's site again, his wife was walking their dog. Herc bolted from my side and sprinted towards them howling. The old lady lost it, the old man intervened, and the stray beast was now not my problem. Cujo crisis of '08 averted.
I feel ripped off, because I would have loved to have seen the irresponsible owner and be able to ask them how THEY slept. But, we were all safe. We broke camp finally and were eady to split. And after some convincing, I was able to get the night's stay comped. I realize the park wasn't responsible for the dog, my gripe was that when I sought help from the park host, he did nothing. The office personnel reiterated that I needed to wake the host up and get help, but I explained it did no good in that case. Maybe next time, I'll do like Saucy said and come strapped with a gat.
Perhaps state parks could keep a log of animals entering the park, so the owner can be quickly reached. I don't know.
Thanks for reading, I know it was long-winded.
Ott
'Give me some music; music, moody food/ of us that trade in love'
-Shakespeare
-Shakespeare
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So is your wonderful patient beautiful mercedes still talking to you?
Verona??? it's all surmountable
Dublin 23.08.06 "The beauty of Ireland, right there!"
Wembley? We all believe!
Copenhagen?? your light made us stars
Chicago 07? And love
What a different life
Had I not found this love with you
good friends help pitch tents.
http://www.myspace.com/brain_of_c
-Shakespeare