I Don’t Always Think Ahead

I went to the hunt camp the other day with Blue. We had to take the new used lawnmower up and cut a bit of wood for the winter. No one really wants to trudge through three or four feet of snow to thaw out the icicle of a cabin, but I’m hoping that this year is different. I hope that every year, but with my new schedule, I want to make some time for what I love to do which is drinking and looking at snow.

The cabin is about an hour and a half or so north of home, and we were over half way there when I remembered that I didn’t pack Blue’s food. It’s grain free, because he gets itchy when he has a lot of grain in his diet, but my choices were limited to a small grocery store in the last town before the camp. It was mainly crap, so I decided that if he had to eat the equivalent of McDonald’s, then he might as well enjoy the shit out of it; I chose two big cans of store brand food for the boy.

He hopes Nana doesn’t get mad about the hair on the couch.

When we got to the cabin, I gave him half a can of the chicken and lamb. It wasn’t bad smelling going in, but I needed a gas mask within an hour of him eating it. The next morning I gave him the other half, and because he was running after squirrels for most of the day, I gave him the whole can of beef and liver cuts in gravy for supper. It was more pungent than the other stuff, and gooey. The boy was in a state of euphoria as he gingerly licked up every last bit of this delicious feast.

Then we set out for our trek home.

Gag.

I was seriously retching from the stink of him as he slept peacefully on the seat beside me. Have you ever been in a fish cleaning station on a hot day? How about a Mennonite slaughterhouse?

Put them together and that’s what I rode home with. Every once in a while I would look over and yell obscenities at him for ruining my life, but he would just look at me and roll onto his back as if I might want to rub his belly.

I didn’t want to, but I still did it for him. It’s hard to stay mad when you see how happy that trip made him. He got to spend time at the place he loves the most, he got to eat a bunch of unhealthy junk food, and he got to shit in the woods.

Just like his dad.

About ChrisBird

A self proclaimed "free thinker", Chris has spent most of his life doing what he wants. He wears lovely velour shirts at will, and he rarely brushes his teeth. If you find something at a thrift store that you feel needs to be modelled, please let him know, and he will tell you where to send it. When he is not being whimsical, he can be found in “The Cocoon” with his forgiving wife, and his dog Blue. Well, except for when it’s time for romance, that’s when Blue has to skedaddle. You only make that mistake once. He can be found at Change The Topic, on the ultra-cool Google+, The Twitter, and sadly, Facebook.

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