In the Foothills. Meet Willie!
Annebäbi and Willie – Photograph copyright @ 2016 Mignon Naegeli
This is a doggie story as hardened as they come. And it includes observations of an old canine campground regular.
It’s almost May. The weather in East Tennessee is unlike most of the country’s: mild, sunny, and the humidity as low as it gets around here. Exactly what my humans covet for a few days at a different location.
We are still in the woods, maybe not as remote as at home, but surrounded by a mass of large trailers, some of which are triple the size of our compact crate on wheels; trailers pulled by huge pickup trucks, loaded to a T with stuff, extra outdoor cooking devices, and a mass of undefinable clutter.
The beauty is that the campground is located on the Little River, which streams down from the Great Smoky Mountains. The river is, at this time of the year, a habitat for many species. My favorites, a pair of Canada geese, wake us early in the morning, noisily flying close above the flowing water. Their beautiful, somewhat sad sound prepares the humans for the new day, it’s beauty … and the unfortunate awful news, should they listen to, or read, the latest occurrences of the day.
Usually, my most scary—though nevertheless most adventurous—daily events at the KOA are the long walks. There is a small dog park. No dogs in it; boring. Nobody to growl at!
Today is special; during our exploratory walk through the campground, I spot a golden RV with two golden retrievers sleeping in front of it, their humans close by. We meet old Wyatt and young Willie: Annebäbi was in love!
I remained at a safe distance, jealously watching my silly sister going gaga over a beautiful golden dog! Wyatt was equally cautious — he went to his female, pretending to ignore the commotion that I suspect will become a daily routine … up to the moment when the Wolfman will strap us into our harnesses on the bed again and drive us off toward home.