We’re on one of those multi-day trips where we’ve brought everything but the kitchen sink; tarps, lawn chairs, serious food larders, frosty beverages, dogs, assorted hangers-on…definitely not the “Go Light” approach.

Alan has brought along his miniature canine companion, Sadie, and her assortment of diminutive doggie accoutrements, including a dry dog food mix consisting of little tiny crunchy pellets, made especially for a Lilliputian pooch.

Camp established, sun set, we settle in for a long night of frosty beverage consumption. Arising somewhat bleary eyed the next morning we survey the carnage of our camp; most folks have at least made it back to their tents – only a few inert bodies are sprawled about – and we commence the inevitable morning-after clean up chores.

In the midst of policing the area Alan finds that something has been at Sadie’s dog food stash, the top is off the jar and her supply of tiny crunchies is nearly exhausted. Something clever, we deduce…cunning enough to get the lid off. Most likely a raccoon. Alan finds the lid, secures the jar and makes a mental note to take better precautions with Sadie’s food in the future.

Little by little our remaining companions awake to stumble about camp. Alan’s newcomer friend Joel is one of the last to arise, looking quite the worse for wear. Joel plods about the campsite in an unfocused manner, at last coming to a stop beside Sadie’s dog food jar.  Unscrewing the lid, he scoops up a heaping handful and begins popping them into his maw.

“JOEL, what are you doing?” Alan shouts.

“Oh, uh, sorry…I, uh, I thought they were for everybody” Joel replies sheepishly.

“How much of that have you had?” Alan asks.

“Um, well, last night…I mean…I thought they were for everybody” repeats Joel.

Not a cunning animal. Not a raccoon. Joel. Joel has mistakenly eaten a three-day supply of dog chow in one night. And liked it enough to come back for more in broad daylight.

Being the empathetic and tactful group that most boaters are, we spend the next several days speaking to Joel with a peculiar, enthusiastic inflection – “Fetch Joel”…”Down Joel, sit down”…”Come Joel, atta boy, good boy”

For some reason Joel never came on another trip. And we even offered to bring some of that stuff that makes its own gravy.