Camping in the rain with Buddy the beagle

Poem, 9 October 2019

It had not rained in Bali,
Not a drop for months.
The rainy season came and went
But the sky seemed so indifferent.
Dry earth and dry streams,
Parched throats and sapped bodies.

And then we went camping
Just for a night
Twas a special birthday wish
On a cliff by the sea.
The car packed with food and water,
Beachwear and Buddy the beagle.

Tent pitched and games played,
Dinner done and songs sung.
Buddy the beagle curled into a corner,
And the rest of the family
Extended their extremities
Across the remaining floor space.

Buddy fell instantly asleep
And slumbered on oblivious
To the interesting conversation and exciting games,
The screeching nighthawks and crashing waves,
And our restless bodies tossing and turning
As we adjusted ourselves to the unfamiliar place.

At first it was too hot
Then too windy
Then too cramped
And then too steamy.
Buddy the beagle farted happily in his sleep
And filled the tent with a gorgeous reek.

And then it came down suddenly
The rain that had gone missing for ages
At first a welcome drizzle
And then a light downpour.
Buddy the beagle slept through it all
Like he had been drugged or worse.

The sides of the tent got wet
and then dried up again.
We counted sheep and then cows
Finally nighthawks, but all in vain.
While Buddy the beagle was chasing cats
In a happy exciting game.

We continued to alternately
Shush and talk, complain and laugh.
And then the rain came down
In concrete sheets
Slamming and shaking the tent
But not troubling Buddy a wee bit.

Water soaked through the worn nylon
Dripping down our shirts and spines
Seeping up through the floor
And drenching the mats and sarongs.
While Buddy the beagle managed to doze on
In the only inexplicably dry spot.

We made emergency plans
To move to the car one by one
Papa first retrieving the lone umbrella,
Kiddo next to the half vacant backseat,
And dragging and pulling the still inert Buddy
To his assigned floor space.

Me next with dry stuff
that I somehow managed to save.
And then Papa transferring
the inundated tent and mats into the boot space.
While Buddy curled right up
and continued his deep rhythmic breathing.

Finally all in the car
We changed to dry clothes,
Rolled the windows down a bit,
And tried to catch the sleep
That appeared to elude all
but Buddy the strange beagle.

Eventually kiddo’s soft rhythmic breaths
Rose and fell in tune with Buddy’s sighs.
And Papa’s deep harmonic windpipes
Joined the seaside ensemble,
While the rain cascaded down
In a relentless unceasing torrent.

I tossed and turned evermore
An over-full bladder threatening to explode
As I tried to quell the rising claustrophobia
Over and above the restlessness and insomnia.
Stuck in a car on a special rainy night
With two humans and Buddy the beagle.

Here’s a camping misadventure
That will be told and retold
For months and years to come henceforth
While Buddy the beagle
Snuggles up blissfully beneath the table
And lets out his gentle soothing snores.