Well, see the grass behind the camper? That backs onto a forest. I was woke at 4am one night to watch the racoons trying to eat the scraps in Alan's potato chip bag. That was cute to watch the two of them.
The dog story. On Wednesday, Alan opens the camper door to let out the dogs before I go to bed and Chloe bolts out. Bolts. Like the greased lightening she can be. And bolts back to the camper just as quick. Alan yells "oh no!!" as he sees the black and white "kitty" that Chloe saw. I came out of the camper and grabbed the dog - my first mistake: the kitty was a skunk and now it's on my hands.......
....Alan makes the 10pm run to find an open store in the wilderness - tomato juice isn't the answer any more. It's woman's douche - vinegar and water variety.....Man, does she stink. Man, do my hands stink. My eyes are watering and I am thankful for once for my allergies - if she stinks that much for me, she must really stink.
Alan returns with his feminine hygiene products and Chloe gets an 11pm bath with douche and cold water. She still stinks. It's close to midnight and it's going to take us at least an hour to pack up and go home (which neither of us wanted to do). We couldn't leave her chained outside to find another kitty and we didn't want her in our bed. Gods, no!
The travel kennel that Patty (from work) bought me! It's under the bed in the camper. We pop that open and lay a dog bed in it and hope for the best. She still stinks, but she's now 5 feet from the bed and can't jump on us.
I crawl in bed, nauseated from the skunk smell, and curl up in the bed. Gods, my hands stink. No curling them up under my chin......nasty. The next morning Chloe gets two more baths.....she still stinks....but it's better. We stayed at the campground until Sunday morning - just a wonderful week.
Except for the stinky dog.....the picture is pre-stinky.p.s. My hands don't smell like skunk anymore. Either that, or I have gotten used to it.....