The forecast called for rain lots of it and for once the weatherman didn’t exaggerate. Now, we’re only camping 15 minutes from home, and Lord knows we need the rain, but still… there’s something about being stuck in a camper all day that makes people (and dogs) lose their minds.

First sign of rain? Odie our storm-hating dog tries to climb on the bed and burrow under the covers like he’s preparing for the apocalypse. Dawn (who, mind you, is on day four of a ten-day camping trip) suddenly decides that this is the perfect time to reorganize the cabinets and everything under the seats. Me? I just want to sit in the theater seats, watch Band of Brothers for the tenth time, and enjoy the sound of rain on the roof. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, yes.

So instead of watching WWII history unfold, I spend the next few hours helping Dawn unload and reload every cabinet in the camper. I think Odie had the right idea—hide and stay quiet.

By hour three of the rain delay, the camper looks like a Pinterest post. Everything’s reorganized, wiped down, and sparkling. Which means it’s now time for board games. Dawn says, “Let’s play something fun—Uno or Yahtzee.” I tell her to choose. Fifteen minutes later, after seventeen rounds of I don’t care, you pick, she finally decides on Uno.

Right then, Odie saunters back into the living area and decides it’s dinnertime. If you’ve read any of my previous tales, you know he eats like royalty: turkey, squash, sweet potatoes, carrots, and peas. Dawn warms it up for him (yes, warms it up), but before it’s ready, he insists on going for a walk—in the rain. Of course, he’s got a little raincoat. Me? Nope. So off we go, Odie sniffing every puddle and blade of grass like he’s judging them for wetness. After what feels like a 40-minute rain-soaked tour of the campground, we return—me dripping, Odie prancing. Dawn, who just scrubbed the floor this morning, gives me that you better not look. I’m banished to a tiny 2×2 rug and told to wipe down all four of Odie’s paws and my own feet before we’re allowed to move an inch further inside.

Finally, Odie trots to his bowl, tail wagging, as if to say, I’ll take my dinner now, human. We sit down to play Uno at last. First hand I drop a Draw 4 on Dawn. She gives me that look. Next round another Draw 4. Let’s just say she’s no longer the “happy camper” she was pretending to be.

Sure, I won the game… but I may have lost the war. Oh well. Tomorrow’s forecast is sunny and 75°, and Odie and I will be back outside—where it’s safe.