Shot Gun Shells and Wet Hiking Boots
edited: Tuesday, April 21, 2009
By Regan Gawan
Not "rated" by the Author.
Posted: Monday, April 20, 2009
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Camping in Hannigans Meadow Arizona
The trees are majestic and the meadow is peaceful.
We hike and fish and play in the creek all day.
Rasta, my Rodesian Ridgeback puppy
barks happily and chases the cows through the fields
nipping their heels like a shepard dog.
The cows finally grow annoyed, turn and charge her.
She runs and hides behind me, barking bravely
from the cover of my legs.
Sitting around the campfire at night
Relaxing, talking, laughing, and oh yes, drinking
My new boots are soaking wet.
Paul throws his cigarette lighter
into the fire
Just to see what will happen.
Fizzle Fizzle - Not much.
Then he throws in a handful of shotgun shells
We all jump up yelling and shouting at Paul and scrambling for cover,
Knocking over chairs and spilling our beers.
Boom Whistle Boom Whistle Boom Whistle
Later, after the excitement is over, TJ and I go into the tent to sleep.
Paul, trying to repent, and be helpful,
places my wet hiking boots close to the fire to dry.
In the morning, the leather is black and crispy
and hard as a rock.
I have no boots now.