Since Thursday, Sparky and I have been camping at Findley State Park.  It was dismal, and Sparky was blaming me.

This is Sparky’s “WTF?” face..

“Let’s just go home.  It rains all the time here, my belly is wet, I only have one Mr. Moose and one bed, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to get treats and they don’t have any rabbits.”

I explained that this was a check-out trip to make sure the camper was stocked and set for the season, and we’d get more car rides in better weather to places that had rabbits. 

It’s not Findley State Park’s fault that it rains every day and didn’t get much above 50o.   There are bound to be a few sites that are torn-up swamp pits, and we got one of them.

I had to tell Sparky that it’s worse than that.  He has to be on a leash when we are outside and I have to pick up his dirty business.

He was resigned to the situation.  Sparky didn’t even smile or perk up when I praised him for helping me make up a new rule. 

The new rule is that if a dog craps in to a body of water, it doesn’t have to be bagged.  Sparky managed to crap into a little drainage ditch, so that counts.

Sparky tried to look interested when we watched TV, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Later on, we went over to Pete and Terri’s camper to watch a movie.  Sparky couldn’t manage to look interested, but he still looked cute.

Sparky smiled once or twice, the entire weekend.  I don’t know what put him off.  Sparky knows Pete and Terri’s two dogs, and Tim and Renee’s dog, but this time, he was just mildly irritated by them.  I started to think something was wrong, like he was sick or in some kind of pain.

A few hours after we got home, I had the camper mostly unpacked, so had time to sit with Sparky.  He was all smiles.

That was few hours ago.  Since then, he’s played with his toys, teased me with Mr. Moose, and ran around the yard checking on whatever he checks on.

I don’t know.  Maybe he really didn’t like Findley, or camping, or just prefers to screw around our little compound.  We are so much alike.