Yet another fucking nut shows up at my campsite

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My cats are an asset to me in all sorts of ways. They earn their keep that’s for sure. I’ll give you an example.

Last night the two cats, Micro Scaredy and Mini Scaredy, were sleeping on top of my blankets. Suddenly they both woke up, jumped off my blankets, and bolted up the hill. The commotion woke me up from a dead sleep. I noticed a flashlight was headed right towards me in the darkness. I jumped up and stood on top of my blankets to confront whoever it was before he got to me. “What are you doing??” I said.

“I’m just trying to get through,” he mumbled.

“Well you can’t get through here,” I said. The trail reaches a dead end at my campsite and behind me is thick shrubbery that’s very difficult to get through in the daylight, let alone in the pitch darkness.

“Well I’m trying to get through,” he repeated.

“Well there’s nowhere to go here,” I said.

We stood there for a moment in this weird and unexpected standoff. Until he wisely turned and headed back down the trail. I followed the light of his flashlight as he made his way towards the road.

About an hour later I hear the guy headed towards my campsite AGAIN. I jump up to confront him again. It’s 5:30 now so it’s getting light so I can see him. He’s a white guy with a skinhead, stocky, and wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and no jacket. He stops before he gets to my campsite and veers straight up the hill. I watch as he makes several attempts to stagger up the hill, falling down and sliding backwards every time. I hear him groaning and cursing in pain and frustration. I have no idea where he thinks he’s going (and I doubt he does either). There’s nothing up the hill except more hills, followed by more hills.

Finally he gives up trying to get up the hill and he staggers back down the hill. I hear him groaning and vomiting as he goes.

About an hour later I decide to pack up my campsite. And I hear somebody moaning and groaning off in the distance. When I make my way down the trail I spot him lying on his back behind a tree, eyes closed, moaning and muttering to himself. I give him a hard look as I pass him. He looks back at me for a second, and then goes back to staring into space.

I’m hoping it’s just a one-shot deal — some guy who “partied” a little too hard for the Labor Day holiday and now he’s temporarily in la-la land. Because the last thing I need is yet another nut lurking around in the vicinity of my campsite.

But my cats are great. They’re great watchdogs. They spot somebody coming towards my campsite long before I notice them. It’s like having my own built-in alarm system.

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