There was a bit of rain and thunderstorm last night. Early this morning as I was out walking the girls for their first pee of the day, I came across a pair of sleepy eyed folks that were struggling to gather up their campsite remains.
“Good morning! It’s a beautiful day!” I exclaimed.
Or not.
They glared at me.
“What’s up? Why so glum?” I persisted.
They were stalked in the night.
This lovely couple came to the park for a nice weekend. They brought the tent, the chairs, the fishing gear, they had a nice tarp over their site, they had steaks, hotdogs, sausage, and some fish, veggies, potatoes, and were planning to really make a go of it for the weekend. They kept almost everything edible in the cooler in the back of the truck.
Almost everything.
They brought their evening munchies with them into the tent.
What they described to me was this:
Him: “They got up into the back of the truck. They took everything. The fish, the steak the sausage, everything except the hot dogs. They left the hot dogs. We discovered this when we woke up. To make matters worse, one of the raccoons unzipped the tent, and four of them crawled in as we were sleeping.”
Her: “They were curled up with us until I awoke from feeling hair on my leg…..I freaked out, woke him up, and then we were all awake and scrambling to get out of the tent. It was chaos.”
I can only imagine how ugly that must have been. I shared my stories, and gave them my condolences. As I was walking by a church group, one of the camp leaders asked if I could use a bag of frozen potatoes. I directed her to the couple—they could use something to go with their hot dogs.
Needless to say, late this afternoon as I was taking the kids for their walk, that campsite was vacant, and the couple was nowhere to be found.
One for the raccoons.
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