London and I recently chaperoned a camping trip that led us past the big pond, the small pond, the long pond ( they really need to be more creative around here ), through the darkened woods, and deep into the unknown wilderness. This was to be my first overnight expedition in the endless forest, and I was looking forward to it as soon as I saw the hotdogs inside the cooler.
While the humans unpacked, we ( the canine sentinels ) searched for hidden dangers and intruders. London found a  worrisome-looking bug. Why she chose to do zoomies to alert the humans about the untold danger  they were in is beyond me; she needs to work on her communication skills.
After finishing my patrol, I settled into a comfy camping chair to await a succulent reward of a hotdog. It was then that the swarming, blood-sucking ninjas of the night arrived. I was not warned about the number of biting mosquitos in these woods. Although there was a valiant attempt to drive them back with bug spray, outlast and out-smoke them, the airborne military campaign overran our defensive barriers. Announcing defeat and thoroughly bitten, we turned tail and went home. I did receive my hotdog during our strategic retreat, so all and all, a successful trip.
This brings me to the topic of my narrative: afterward, I was informed that London and I would need a shower to get the bug spray off.  London, bless her heart, volunteered to go first while I was doing vital investigative work underneath the computer desk in the office.
I stand by the opinion that London is not braver than me; she is just less situationally unaware of the dangers that a shower possesses.  That being said, for this singular instance, despite a known assault of involuntary water, she survived and came out as ridiculously happy as she went in.                                                                                                                                            It was then, by process of elimination, my turn. Once seated in the shower, did you know what I received? CHEESE! I didn’t know that delicious, exquisite cheese lived in the shower. So while I was happily munching on string cheese,  I ignored being washed and may have enjoyed it a little bit. Maybe a shower isn’t as bad as I thought… I’ll save my judgment for the goats instead. That’s all for now. I believe there is a cat in my office… I need to check. ~ Tod ” The Wonderful.”

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