Camp Becky

When I first met Andy, I thought he was a bigot.  Why?  Because he peed on my foot upon our initial introduction.  I determined that he had some form of aversion to Asians, this being the only characteristic distinguishing me from my Anglo friends who had accompanied me.  Upon my second or third interaction with him, however, he at some point decided I was “safe” or “okay” and warmed up to me.

Fast forward a few months, whereby Andy was scheduled to stay at Camp Becky for a few days.  On this visit, he refused to come into my bedroom.  All campers at Camp Becky are welcome to sleep in my room or on my bed if they wish – in fact, most do.  When Andy is at home, however, he is not allowed upstairs therefore not allowed in the bedrooms.  Even though my apartment lacks stairs, he thought he should not go into the bedroom, despite my calling, coaxing, beckoning.

A few weeks later, Andy came to Camp Becky again.  This time, he checked is paranoia at the bedroom door and made his way in.  I was able to catch it all on camera:

Two paws in…

Four paws in… (he’s still not sure about this)

“Ummm…  Becky?  I’m not so sure about this…”

He made it!

It was a proud day for Camp Becky.  And it created a monster because once he made his way in and discovered the joy of sleeping on a bed, he just wouldn’t stop.