Our Camping Trip

Bob here. Friday night, Daddy came home and started bustling around getting things ready. I knew this meant we were going on a trip, so I barked nonstop just in case Daddy forgot that we wanted to go, too. Mommy came home and did some packing, too, but we didn't get in the car and go until it was nearly dark. When we got to the campground, Mommy had some trouble driving between the big rocks on either side of the driveway to the campsite. (Daddy's a big chicken, and won't drive the car when it's pulling the trailer.) We went to bed soon after, but Daddy was kept awake by the drunk people at a neighboring site. I got to sleep on Daddy's bed, but it got so cold I had to curl up into a little white ball to stay warm.
The next morning, Daddy as usual got me and Dickens up so we could do our business. Just then, the drunk neighbors started blasting their country music radio station. Daddy yelled as loud as he could "IT'S FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING! PLEASE TURN THE MUSIC DOWN!" This had no effect on the hungover Hank fans, who, fortunately for Daddy's piece of mind, went on to another campground to spread their infuriatingly obnoxious behavior. We got set up in our cage under a "screenhouse" to protect us from the sun, along with tarps so we couldn't see any other people. This didn't keep us from barking, because barking is our job. It rained really hard in the afternoon, so Mommy took us into the camper. Because the camp rules for pet owners say 1)keep your dogs quiet; 2)don't leave your dogs alone; and 3)don't take your dogs to the beach, Mommy and Daddy were pretty much stuck at the campsite with us. Which, of course, was just how we wanted it! At night, they snuck us down to the beach, so we could see all sorts of lights in the sky,and hear all sorts of big booms. Dickens sat on Mommy's feet most of the time, and then pooped twice on the way back to camp. He's a big chicken, just like Daddy.