Sean got skunked.
And so did Miss America. Ok, there was no actual skunk involved, but she came out smelling like a pile of stinky, rotten fish. It seems while Sean had his back turned, the little white dog just happened upon eagerly sought out with her pointy nose, a pile of smelly, dead fish left behind by some dufus fisherman lying on the shore. Not only did she seek it out, but apparently decided that she needed to roll around in it. I heard some muffled shouts from outside the camper and the next thing I know, we’re sacrificing our only towel to rid Clown Dog* of the war paint left behind by her “catch.” What a proud dog she was that day.
(*We’ve given her the affectionate nickname of Clown Dog any time she shows up in front of us with strange but colorful marks on her body. I, personally, like to call her Clownzer, for short)
We couldn’t even wait until we got him home. Within an hour of acquiring our new dog, we had him sudsed up, scrubbed down and smelling good for his future mate, Miss America. I’m glad this dog doesn’t have to go out into the real world to find his own mate, because I fear he might get teased because of his full name. Jillian suggested Mr. Ronald Reagan and I fell in love with it: Mr. Reagan and Miss America-brilliant! However, Sean was insistent on naming his dog, Captain something-or-other: “When I call them both back to me I’ll say “Captain America…Here!”” Oh, obviously. When I told Jillian his official name was Mr. Captain Ronald Reagan, she just about died of laughter and repeated it back to me in a questioning sort of manner. I’m pretty sure there were tears squeezed out of her eyes from laughing so hard. So, in order to not embarrass ourselves, or our dog too much, we officially dropped the, “Mr.” We call him Reagan around the house, so I’m sure there will be a bit of frustration when we take him in public and Sean is yelling out, “Captain America,” in his proudest voice only to find his dog running the other way.
Although, the trip to Whitney didn’t go like we originally planned, it was gorgeous, nonetheless. Perhaps, even more gorgeous than if we had tried to trek all the way to the top of the highest mountain in the continuous 48 states. America had the time of her life and we’ve calculated that she must have hiked at least 3 times the distance we did!
I’ll admit, it was quite a ways off the beaten path, but I just had to see this ghost town. It was like looking through a window back in time – and it was as if time had actually stopped.
I almost felt like an intruder. Not only peering through a window into the local church or the resident doctor’s house, but peering into the lives of an entire city. A city once booming, and now abandoned by its former inhabitants. A blue stove sits inside, begging to be dusted off and used while a barn, reflected in the glass, wonders why it is empty and has no visitors. Bodie may not be as glorious as it was in its heyday, but its charm has been well preserved.