June 2026

Hazel's First Campout

We didn't plan for closed-car-door chaos. We planned for a calm, happy weekend in the mountains. Hazel had other plans.

The drive up

Ninety minutes in the car, Hazel nose-pressed to the window the whole time, tail going like a metronome. Every deer spotted on the shoulder was announced with a dramatic gasp. By the time we parked, she was vibrating like a tuning fork.

The tent dilemma

Rule one of dogs and tents: the tent must be set up before the dog is let out. We learned this the hard way. Hazel sprinted a victory lap around the campsite, then made a beeline for the rolled-up tent and flopped directly on top of it.

We improvised: stake everything down with her standing guard, then let her "help" by sitting on each corner as we unrolled it. She still claims credit for the whole build.

The 3 a.m. deer chorus

Around three in the morning, a deer wandered through camp. I sat up to the sound of Hazel's low growl turning into two sharp barks, then wild sprinting back and forth across the floor of the tent.

The deer left. Hazel, victorious, claimed the warm spot where my legs used to be and snored for the rest of the night. I froze, mildly happier than anyone who hasn't slept well should reasonably be.

What we'd do differently

• Set the tent up first, dog second.
• Bring a second blanket — the dog hogs all of them.
• Practice one "quiet" command before the trip, not after.

Hazel's verdict on camping: five muddy paws out of four. Mine: she's coming on every trip, whether she fits in my bag or not.