Summer Stories-- How the Dog Died

Before I begin this tale, allow me to assure you that, as of the time of this writing, the dog in question is not in fact dead, though he has an ear infection that smells rather odd. Rather, the title of this story finds its genesis in a quip I made following the events herein....

Following our first broiling night sleeping in the wilds of Oklahoma, the family decided that it was not for us to carry on camping in the midst of a drought. We decided therefor to venture forth and try to find something fun to do that day on our way home. Alas, we found no interest that day. Instead, we found a motel where we could put up for the night, and whiled the day away watching television and lounging in the pool.

The next day we ventured forth once more and lo, we did find something fun to do that day... But that is a story for another time; this story is of our adventures on the road.

We had been on the highway for some time, and decided to pull off for refreshment. We found a fast food restaurant and stopped in for a quick bite to eat. Upon exiting, we were faced with a tent, set up to attract weary vacationers much like ourselves. And what should we weary vacationers find in this tent?

Why, tigers of course.

Four colossal kittens, lounging in undersized pools in the safety of cages. They belonged to a nearby animal reserve that was, quite sadly, a bit too far out of our way for comfort. For now, they were here to promote the reserve; for quite some bit of money, you could enter the cage, pet them, and have your picture taken. A tempting offer, to be sure, but not tempting enough for us to waste our vacation budget. Not that we couldn't look at the majestic creatures for free.

And look we did. We saw them play and splash, yawn and stretch. Honestly, much to much like a normal cat for comfort. Eventually, though, it came to an end, and we had to leave our feline friends behind.

Which was when we noticed the dog was missing.

He had gotten out of the car with us, had wondered across the grassy hill outside the tent. But now... he was gone....

That's when the man running the tent found him. While we were all busy looking at the large cats, our small dog had wondered off into the tent and had lain down next to one of the cages, alone with an infant tent times his size.

We quickly retrieved him, said our fairwells to the man and his tigers, and got into our van, ready for our next adventure.

As we drove away, I came upon the title for my theoretical, maybe-someday memoirs: How the Dog Died. Nonsensical, to be sure, but it has a certain ring to it.

Summer Stories-- Surreality

Continuing my series of... no, wait, this isn't a continuation. This is a bit of a throwback, a long ago something that has come to mind, but can't really be counted as part of the strange tale of last summer. But yes, it is a story, and it happened in the summer, and so the moniker stands.

This is the story of the most utterly surreal event to ever happen to me thus far. Will it remain the most surreal? I certainly hope not.

The time was July of 2008. I was fresh out of high school, ready to go out and explore the world, yearning for adventure. I found myself in, of all places, a shoe store. Exciting! Ah, I can tell there is doubt at this last statement. A shoe store, exciting? Why yes. For a naive young American, any location in the holy city of Jerusalem, Israel was most exciting.

I had been in the ancient city for a scant few days, perhaps as little as one, and my feet were hurting, as they were wont to due. In desperate need of relief, my godmother and momentary guardian brought me to a little store on the edges of the Old City. It was here that I did what any right-minded person in need of comfort but content with their shoes would do: I tried on insoles.

That's when it happened. Another customer came in, sat down next to me and, as customers are wont to do, began to try on shoes. So there I was, a naive young American, trying on insoles, sitting next to another customer-- a costumer dressed head-to-toe in black fatigues, sporting pieces of bullet-proof armor, web-gear, etc., etc. But so what? I've gone into stores dressed far more strangely than that (a particular point of interest was the 'robe in the Subway' incident. Ah, good times). I have not, however, entered into a store bearing an assault rifle on my back.

So there I was, a naive young American, trying on insoles, sitting next to a battle-hardened member of the Israeli Defense Force, decked out in full commando gear... and trying on shoes.

Surreal, indeed.

Summer Stories-- The Raccoon of Doom

Near the end of summer, we decided to go camping. The trip had been planned for months, and seemed like a good idea when we planned it. But when the time came, the state was suffering from a severe drought, and the once lush dreamland we intended to visit was reduced to a few buckets of brackish water.

So we arrived, late in the day, and kind of mucked about until it was time to sleep. By this time, we had already decided to leave the next day. However, we were adamant that we would stay for one night.

That night we camped, good and hard. My parents and sister slept in the van, and my brother, cousin, and I slept in the tent. In theory.

The night was freakishly hot, as Oklahoma in a drought is wont to be. I opted to sleep out under the stars, to try to remain cool. It was difficult, but eventually I slept.

Later that night I was awoken by the frenzied whispering of my cousin. "Hey! Go away! Hey! Go!"

I rolled over and told him, in a polite and loving manner, to shut up.

It was then that he revealed the reason for this whispering-- a raccoon was snuffling around outside on the edges of camp.

I rolled back and beheld the beast, lit by the purplish LED of a flashlight, a -snufflin' and a -shufflin'. I watched for a few minutes, observing the creature's blatant disregard of my cousin's injunction to flee.

Finally, desiring sleep and a respite from the threat of rabies, I took matters into my own hand.

Popping up from the sleeping bag, I hissed at the sucker and, wouldn't you know it, the critter done ran.

And that was the last we saw of the Raccoon of Doom....

Summer Stories-- Petunia in the Sky...

As summer draws to a close, I think back to all the craziness that happened. Some was good, some was bad... and some was just plain strange. A few events really stand out to me, though, little anecdotes that are amusing, if not particularly topical.

One such event is the death and eventual funeral of my rat, Petunia. One weekend early in the summer it came time for me to change the litter in my rat's cage. Now, this was a thankless chore, and I didn't want to do it. So I argued with my mother, explaining that doing the job was pointless, as Petunia--an elderly rat--was likely to soon die. Mother insisted, and so I spent the next hour in the sun, slaving away over a pile of hot wood chips.

The next day, sunday, I was in my room when I saw little Petunia, lying on her back, suddenly stretch, writhe, and roll about. I feared the worst. But she was okay. So I continued on with what I was doing:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fGoY7A50Txw&feature=channel_video_title

Later that night I was preparing for bed, long after everyone had faded into the night, when I looked into the freshly cleaned cage and saw, to my grave disappointment, that Petunia had shuffled loose this mortal coil. I was at once sad--my rat was dead--at once relieved--her death had been a constant shadow hover above--and at once really ticked off--I had just cleaned her cage!

I left my room and tried to tell Mom, but she was asleep. I went and found my brother and cousin, informed them of the bad news, and invited them back to my room for a ratty farewell...

We said some words, took some pictures, then I put Petunia, along with her personal little hidey-box, into a plastic bag and then onto the outgoing trashcan.

And thus, she was gone.

In retrospect, that doesn't sound like a very funny story, but at the time it was late, we were tired yet slightly giddy, and we had fun saying goodbye to little Petunia. So we say again...

Goodbye, Tuners. Goodbye.