Short Stories For Adults

The second story

My most influential male role model was an Airedale Terrier. He stroked my prepubescent ego by always being thrilled to see me, that stubby tail wagging like a metronome set on quadruple time. Snoopy was also an emotional bulwark. On therapeutic retainer, he was available around the clock to absorb and mollify my crises du jour, demanding very little in return. A couple of daily walks, food, a perpetually topped off water bowl and he was content; in fact, showing gratitude for the satisfaction of basic needs was a lesson Snoopy imparted.

When my sister’s first fiancé decided we needed to go camping, just him and I, Roger’s motivation was suspect. I still don’t know if he was benevolently stepping into the shoes of a missing father figure or simply trying to elicit the starry-eyed sighs he got from Susan. Whatever his reasons, I’m just glad I got to bring Snoopy along.

Stokes Forest in the northwest Skylands of New Jersey is freezing in November, and we were the only campers there. At one interminably boring juncture, Roger used a penknife, which he promised to give me one day but never did, to carve a checkerboard into the picnic table alongside our tent. He had rocks and I had twigs for playing pieces, so perhaps this was his idea of living off the land. Our tournament ended abruptly with Roger claiming victory after a bone-chilling gust scattered my sticks back into the woods. Meanwhile in my peripheral vision, Snoopy seemed oblivious to the cold and provided comic relief by chasing squirrels, chipmunks, even blowing leaves. He was an urban dog, raised with me on the block, so romping through Stokes Forest must’ve been canine nirvana for him. That was another one of Snoopy’s lessons: to fearlessly explore and find joy in novel experiences.

After eating a lukewarm concoction Roger called Brunswick Stew and listening to exaggerated stories of his boyhood camping adventures in northern Michigan, he told me I needed to learn how to bank a fire. By then the sun had dropped below the western tree line along with the temperature. Playing with the fire rather than just sitting around it shivering sounded like a good idea.

“Go find a stout stick about yay long,” Roger commanded while gesturing with his arms. “Then I’ll show you what to do.”

Heading into the cold with Snoopy at my heel, past the circumference of firelight, I thought how stout is pretty much a universal description for most sticks. It would’ve helped if Roger explained more. Nevertheless, I did find one the right length with stoutness being its dominant characteristic. Soon as I picked it up, however, Snoopy grabbed the other end and wouldn’t let go. By the time we got back to the fire, there were two considerably shorter stout sticks, one in my hand and one in Snoopy’s mouth which he playfully deposited at Roger’s booted foot.

“That’s too short!” Roger shouted before I could even explain what happened. He then kicked Snoopy’s stick across the campsite, sending my dog scrambling after it, before stomping off beyond the light in frustration. Wishing I’d never come on this camping trip, I felt a light tap on the cold rubber toe of my Chuck Taylor. Snoopy, wiry tail wagging in joyful anticipation, dropped his stick on my foot so I could throw it. The lesson this time was to ignore negative people.

While banking the fire for the night, I explained why the stick was so short hoping Roger might see the humour in me fighting over it with Snoopy. Instead, he launched into a lecture about how my dog needs proper training, how he should heel, stay, even attack upon command. Soon as the fire was partially smothered with dirt, the cold made its presence felt. Roger wanted the dog to sleep between our bedrolls so his body heat would warm the entire tent. Snoopy disobeyed by crawling headfirst into my sleeping bag. I nodded off while Roger continued mumbling something about a police dog training academy in Michigan. Meanwhile, Snoopy taught me the difference between the chill of fearful obedience and the warmth of loving loyalty.