Yeah, yeah. Everybody else around here is back on boats. Everybody but me. All I want is a canoe ride down the Nooksack, that big beautiful river right down the road. It’s full of ducks, geese, even swans. There’s probably even steelhead in there. I could be freaking out on big ass sea run rainbow trout, people! Yet here we are, twiddling our dewclaws.
I guess dad sold off all of our canoes last year before we went to Mexico, so now we’re boatless. Very embarrassing for me, a duck dog. You can imagine my shame at the dog park. To his credit, he has tried to buy not one, but two, sweet Wenonah canoes on Craigslist. Unfortunately he’s been stymied by the usual wackos and flakes that inhabit Craigslist.
So I’ve had to settle for running amok in the various rainforests, seashores and river bottoms that Bellingham has to offer. Sure, there are pintails and mallards by the thousands, but dad’s not shooting at them. There are salmon carcasses littering the streambanks, but mom’s not casting for them.
I just don’t get it. Something about “buying a house” is keeping them all tied up. It better have, like, 40 acres. And it better be surrounded by about 50,000 acres of wild timberland. And I want some livestock running around for me to sniff. Yeah. And a creek. And a waterfall… Ahhh, well, a dog can dream can’t he.
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