Thursday, August 6 – Saturday, August 8
It’s a good thing I took on plenty of water while camped at Miller Lake.
Thursday the camp host stops by our site.
“No water,” she announces. We chat briefly about what might be the reason.
The following day we find out that the pump is the problem. A new one is on its way from the company that manufactured the original pump. It may be several days before it arrives and water flow resumes.
These are the camp host’s pugs. I forget their names, something like Della and Delbert, Donna and Dino, whatever. Reggie’s ears always stick up funny when he meets dogs. Bridget gives a polite hello.
The camp host lady and I stand and talk, outside the pugs’ pen, of course. Reggie becomes excited and runs back and forth in front of the penned-up pugs. This aggravates the pugs. They jump at the fence, barking.
“Reggie! You rascal! You’re taunting them!”
“I know you were just playing and being excited, Reg, but that didn’t look very nice, you know.”
I meet the one other camper here.
I compliment him on the camper he built. It’s neat!
We were interrupted before I had a chance to ask questions about his rig. It’s not very long or wide. You can tell that my using the twin propane tanks for reference. He has pared down the indoor living space to the essential, making for a compact, probably lightweight, camper.
A great solution to the problem of leaks and also for providing shade. I admire creative, resourceful people who do what needs to be done in order to “get out there!” I thought you might like to see what one person has come up with.
A reminder of our indebtedness to firefighters . . . .
In Idylwild Campground there is a small memorial garden.
Sometimes she enjoys a complete walk or walks part of the way; sometimes she refuses to go altogether.
When Reggie and I approach the campsite, Bridget is happy to lead us the rest of the way home.
It’s time for our last walk of the day and Bridget looks very tired. When she sees the stroller, she perks up!
“You remember this, baby? How ’bout you going for a ride while Reggie and I walk?”
After she’s rolled along in her ride a few minutes, Bridget turns her head and looks up at me behind her. I’ll never forget the softness of her eyes, brimming with love and gratitude. Aww, you poor thing. These walks are becoming difficult for you.
I stop the stroller, bend down, and caress her cheeks.
“You’re welcome, Bridgie.”
Of course, at a moment like this I don’t take a photo. Here’s one I took later. Although it’s not quite the same expression she gave me before, it’s close . . . .
She’s had many happy moments, yet there are times when I sense an undercurrent of sadness. She was Spike’s sidekick, and, like all sidekicks, she was happiest and most fully herself in that role.
I need you to know that I don’t post photos that make her aging obvious.
I show her looking her best, which, I admit, gives a false impression. Those of us who love the Bridge need to accept that she is aging and this may be her last year. I hope not. Meanwhile I try to make every day a good one for her. She enjoys exploring new camps. She gobbles up her chicken or liver breakfasts with gusto. She feels special riding around in her limo. She loves to snooze in the sun.
The crew and I may break camp tomorrow.
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