Darren and I took the kids camping in Grand Marais, Minnesota. It’s an annual tradition and something our whole family looks forward to all year.
Well, not the whole family.
This year we brought Bingley the Nervous Wreck with us.
Bingley has never before ridden in a car and yet we decided to take a 520 mile trip with him because we apparently enjoy torturing small animals. Every large billboard we passed and every bridge we drove under caused Bingley to duck in fear of imminent decapitation. Tunnels caused instant seizures and excessive drooling.
Once we pitched our tents in the campground, we walked Bingley down to Lake Superior where he soon realized that other dogs exist in the universe. 
To compensate for his small stature, Bingley pretended to be rabid when any other dog approached. Instead of smelling butts like normal dogs do, Bingley arched his back like a cat and hissed until the stranger passed. After the canine stranger walked by, in a complete bipolar episode, he barked, cried, and staged a mock attack. I made very little eye contact with anyone because of him.
We took Bingley fishing with us on the shore of a remote, pristine lake (it wasn’t White Pine). 
Notice his body language. If you crossed Napoleon Dynamite with Eeoyre, you’d get Bingley. If you added a little Steven Wright, you’d have Bingley vacationing on the North Shore.
Here Bingley was staring out into the wilderness, weighing his chances of making it across the lake on his solo journey home.
In this photo, Bingley appears to be cooling himself in the lake on a hot summer day. It was actually a suicide attempt.
In the end, despite Bingley’s personality disorder, we were all happy campers. I’m glad to be home again. The reality is…home IS a vacation compared to camping. Bingley agrees.
