“Um, you did hear me say I’ve never been camping, right? If you are depending on my fishing capability for survival, then be prepared to starve. That is, unless you want to eat your dog.”
Casen pats the dog’s head. Damn, I need to pay attention and remember his stupid dog’s name. “Henri is the laziest, snuggliest dog on the planet. I don’t think he would be very tasty.”
Henri, Henri, Henri. Must. Remember. Dog’s. Name. Is. Henri.
“You’ll be fine, Jen. Between the two of us, we’ll catch enough fish, and if not, we can always eat the hotdogs and marshmallows I have stockpiled in the camper.”
“Surely there is something more valuable we can do with our day than spending it drowning worms. I’m good with hotdogs and marshmallows for tonight,” I say as convincingly as possible. Casen rolls his eyes, almost ignoring my attempt to wiggle out of this fishing excursion.
Realizing this is happening whether I like it or not, I focus my attention on the scenery around us as we climb the mountain toward the reservoir. Things are blooming and it appears to be warming up, but looks are definitely deceiving. Even in this oversized sweatshirt, which by the way screams tourist due to its large printed lettering, which has ‘I did 9,500 ft. at Cripple Creek’ splayed across the front, I have frozen my ass off all morning. Surprisingly, the rest of the ensemble Casen picked out fits well, even the tennis shoes.
There are constant winding curves leading us to our destination. As I notice Henri encroaching on my area and the amount of drool multiplies, I become increasingly concerned with his potential motion sickness and the well-being of the limited clothing I currently possess.
“Um, is your dog going to get sick?” I ask, lifting Henri’s head from my lap and moving closer to the door and away from possible disaster. Casen looks him over for a second and pats his head again.
“Nope, he’s good. I think he just likes you and wants to give you a little love.” He turns his attention back to the road and places both hands on the steering wheel.
I examine Henri further, not yet convinced my Walmart jeans aren’t about to get sprayed with munched up kibble. I run my hand across his neck and pat his side. I have no idea what I’m looking for, but I’m hoping for some blaring sign to duck for cover, since the slobber is his apparent regular behavior. He takes this as a sign to “love” further, moving onto my lap and licking me. Now I’m concerned for my own puking status as well as my ability to breathe. “Oh sweet baby Jesus, make him not like me, make him not like me!” I squeeze out through strained breaths as I attempt to push his massive body off mine.
“Hendrix, come here,” Casen bites through laughter. “Leave her alone.” The horse whimpers but doesn’t budge. Casen pulls the truck over and grabs his collar to pull him off me. A rush of air expands my lungs and I begin to gain feeling in my legs again. However, my ribs may never recover.
“Holy fucking shit,” I pant, wiping the string of drool off my clothes. “Animals like him belong in the zoo or circus or something, he nearly killed me. I saw the white light and everything.” Casen meets my agitation with even more laughter, so I turn my wrath at the elephant dog, Hendrix.
“You,” I say, pointing my finger at him. “This is my space; you stay in your space. Unless you want to be our dinner alternative, keep your paws and drool out of my space.”
Casen only laughs harder at my mini-overreaction to my near death experience, giving Henri the pass to bark and then lick me again across the cheek. I might have to hire someone, but this dog will possibly meet his untimely demise.
“Jen, Henri has travelled this road about a million times and he has never gotten sick. Really, he just likes you and is trying to snuggle on you. If you started to turn blue or appear as though you had internal bleeding, I would have intervened. His small bit of slobber will not kill you, I swear.”
“‘Small bit’? I have enough drool pooled on my jeans to alleviate the drought in all of southeast Colorado.”
He laughs even harder, grabbing at his side. “Stop, no more. I can’t breathe.”
“Well, I’m glad. Karma is a bitch, and she always repays her debts. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at someone who is in obvious distress.” I cross my arms across my chest, showing my disapproval for his lack of compassion for my unpleasant situation.
A horn honks behind us. With the narrowness of the dirt road, there is nowhere to safely pass anyone. Casen politely waves to the car behind us and puts the truck back into drive to continue on to the lake.
“You need to lighten up, Jen. If you think drool is bad, you have about ten minutes to get over it before you experience a whole new realm of ickiness. Smelly water, worms along with other various bait, and ultimately fish guts await you. So, suck it up and give in to the fact you will get dirty, wet, and smelly today. I promise you will survive it all, and maybe even have a little fun, too.”
“Fine,” I sigh, directing my attention back to my outdoor surroundings. It isn’t long before we reach the final bend, which opens to the massive lake. The sight of the glistening water is breathtaking, and this time Hendrix has nothing to do with it. It seems so peaceful, with rows of trees, which surround the water. There is no large parking lot or beach, no expansive boat dock with lines of people waiting to launch their watercrafts. There are very few people in general; it feels like a private lake. A place to call our own, an escape from all the shit, which awaits me back home. I now understand the appeal.
“Wow,” I exhale.
“I told ya,” he responds with a sly smile as he parks and jumps out to gather the fishing gear from the bed of the truck. Of course, Henri stays behind, waiting on me to get out as well. It appears I won’t be getting rid of my new furry friend anytime soon.
“Come on, Hulk, let’s go get our fishin’ on,” I tell Henri and open the passenger door to step out. I exit and Henri follows right behind me. The grass is tall and reaches high up on my pant legs, the moisture leaving wet streaks on the fabric. The air is cool, but not cold enough to complain about; I’m actually comfortable and can’t think of a single thing to complain about.
“The grass is somewhat high and it’s getting warm; make sure you watch for snakes,” Casen yells out as he heads toward the shore.
The only thing that registers is the word snake, and without thinking of following any instructions concerning them, I take off running as fast as I can toward Casen. I may come off as a tough girl, but snakes are my ultimate weakness. I can’t even see those things on TV without having to change the channel. To say they give me the heebie-jeebies is putting it lightly. I refuse to even buy snakeskin boots or a purse despite their fashionable appeal. In my opinion, those creatures were put on Earth to serve only one purpose, to scare the shit out of me. May they all be bludgeoned with shovels.
Casen turns around to witness my desperate melee of wild banshee running and screaming; Henri follows behind barking loudly to match my shrieks. I see Casen’s mouth moving and a stern look form on his face, but I can’t make out what he’s saying over the noises I’m making. As soon as I reach him, I jump into his arms and climb his body until I can wrap my legs around his waist.
“Save me, the snakes are going to eat me!” I plead.
“Shush, you’re scaring the fish,” he commands, gripping onto me. “Now, did you see a snake?” he asks, allowing me to remain wrapped around him.
“Well, um, no,” I say after a long pause. I’m enjoying the comfort and strength of his arms which shield me from my embarrassment which will no doubt ensue once my feet hit the ground. “I heard snake and went running. You can’t say things like that and not expect a woman to react drastically.”
“Good to know,” he laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind in the future; no snakes allowed. I’m glad you’re safe.”