I have been a camper most of my life. As a kid my family would go on trips to central Florida to camp. I have many happy memories of those experiences the most surprising of which is the time we went camping and came home with a new dog. The poor thing wondered up to our campsite, all skinny and covered in ticks, and didn't leave no matter how long we were gone. I remember distinctly the car ride home. Our dog Cocoa shared the middle seat of the minivan with my older brother, and I shared the back with the smelly, dirty, flea bitten dog we would come to name Tyler. He became the doggy love of my life and one of the best things I can remember about camping.
