Camp Firewood

Kids and a dog! Boy does that bring back memories. But then, my dog, Bear was not your ordinary dog. Bear would do anything I wanted him to do. He would have killed himself to do things my daughters dreamed up for him to do.
As a young family, we often went camping. It is no different today that firewood is very expensive if you wait to buy it at the campground. To save that expense, I would always haul a supply with me in the back of the pickup. I pulled a travel trailer and Kathy followed with the car and boat. We liked to launch the boat with the pickup, so as soon as we got to our camping site, we would unload all the stuff from the back of the pickup.
I was amazed at how the two daughters could con Bear into carrying all the firewood from the pickup to their chosen spot to pile the wood. His tail would wag like it was the best thing ever. One daughter would be in the back of the pickup and the other at the wood pile. Bear would run to the back of the pickup and put his paws up on the tailgate. He would accept the wood in his mouth, turn and trot to the wood pile and drop the wood onto the ground. This played out until all the pieces were in the stack of wood.
Recently, I suggested that one of my daughters should write about this memory. I was surprised that they do not remember this story. Stephanie accused me of early stages of dementia in a recent blog, so I could be off. I think it makes a great story even if my memory is over active. I think both girls will acknowledge that Bear was a willing helper and a wonderful dog.
Kayak Bandit