This weekend we visited my mother and step-dad at their mountain vacation home. They call it The Folly. Paisley now calls it Camp Folly, after the excellent time she had. She waded right into the New River like she'd been swimming her entire life (she hasn't, ever, despite being a great little boat dog), and retrieved a wonderful pipe that she played with the rest of the weekend. She ran and ran, with sticks, pipe, and nothing at all. She chased (and almost caught - eek!) a chipmunk, she took long walks with Barry and me, she splashed in mud puddles.
Bath time - not so much fun
She is now on our sofa sleeping it off, where she has been since about five minutes after we got home three hours ago. Camp Folly was a grand time for this enthusiastic camper!
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