Part 1 of Keke’s Vacation Up North
Lesson 76: Keke, canoe, and Mommy too
Are we there yet?
It was a simple question. There was no need to get all in a snit about it. We’d been driving for hours, so I didn’t think it was too much to ask for an update.
What’s that you say? We only left twenty minutes ago? Well, how am I supposed to know? My Apple Watch must be broken. Or maybe you forgot to get me one?
This was going to be an epic vacation, they promised. Lounging by the lake, meeting puppies and distant friends and relatives, visiting exotic new places up north to sniff and poop.
They believe all I think about is sniffing and pooping, but humans have no idea the depth of canine thoughts. What would you expect from the race that concocted more than a hundred varieties of Oreo cookies?
153 hours later, we arrived at the lake house for our first stop.
The sun was nearing the horizon. The air was heavy with the smell of aquatic life: ducks, fish, bullfrogs, and something familiar that took a moment to put my nose on.
Of course, bullfrog poop!
Lake Hickory was calm, disturbed only by the odd dragonfly flitting over the water and the occasional fishtail breaking the surface. From the size of the tails, some of them could defend themselves in Loch Ness.
There were also cattails by the waterside. Where were the cats?
The highlight of the lake house was a screened deck almost as large as the rest of the house combined. It had a couch, table, chairs, and a large pillow on the floor for me to lie on. Mommy and I favored the hanging basket chair. This was to be our go-to reading and napping place.
And the view! Because the house sat on a steep hill, the deck stood a full story higher than the water. The screened walls were floor-to-ceiling, so I could look over the lake and watch for ships or sea monsters.
You must understand: My eyes are only at most ten inches above the floor unless I jump. Do you know how rare it is for someone of my stature to see outside, let alone on three sides of a room?
The owners of this cabin thought of everything!
Later that evening, a storm arose. First, the wind blew, then large raindrops pelted the house in slow, indifferent patterns. Each drop of rain sounded like a frog jumping on the roof. After a few minutes, their hops quickened, and before long, a truckload of croaking amphibians bounced and blended.
In the distance, lightning crackled and lit up the sky. It was followed by a slow rolling grumble, and I watched and listened, my unease gradually replaced by a comforting sense of safety, as if the storm was a mere backdrop to my secure haven behind the thin screening.
The storm was over as quickly as it started, and as the wind settled down, it brought the fresh smell of electrified air current.
I slept well that night and dreamed of an army of frogs guarding our cabin, their croaks echoing in perfect harmony. “Hup, two, three, four,” they chanted as they marched in unison, their eyes gleaming with a mysterious determination.
The following day, the sun came out, and Daddy and I went for a walk. The hills were like small mountains, and we found sweet-smelling patches of wild strawberries growing by the side of the path.
While Daddy washed the canoe by the side of the house, Mommy dressed me in my life jacket, and then we took to sea. The boat rocked, so I stayed close to the bottom until they worked out their rhythms and learned to paddle smoothly.
Initially warm and inviting, the sun turned hot as the afternoon progressed. Seeing me panting, Daddy picked me up and dangled me overboard.
Did I want to walk the plank? A walk would be lovely, but that’s not what you have in mind. I saw the giant things swimming in that water!
In typical fashion, Daddy mistook my protests for enthusiasm and hoisted me over the water as a ten-foot bass circled below. There’s a reason they call them “largemouth.”
Hi, I just wanted to let you know that I’m a fishing lure, and I have a giant hook ready to spear you if you bite me!
The water was cool, and I felt better after I was back aboard and had extracted all the bass teeth from my body.
Returning to shore, I had dinner, played soccer on the porch, took a late-night walk, and then collapsed into bed and slept like a dog. Or a log. Whatever.
The next morning, we rose early and packed the car with all our belongings. We were heading north to the next exciting adventure, and there was no time to lose.
But I was just getting started on this one…
I waved goodbye as a chorus of bullfrogs croaked, “So long, farewell.”
Are we there yet?
To be continued…
Keke's advemtires continue! Thanks for letting us tag along.