Linus, of course, LOVED camping. Being with a group of people constantly, finding contraband sticks and table scraps, biking and seeing other dogs everywhere, is probably heaven for him. He was so tired out that whenever we were at the campsite, he was sprawled out on his side in the dirt, asleep. Even with me brushing him several times a day, he was a walking pile of debris. I hope we got a picture of him covered in dust and broken up leaf bits (unlikely, though, since we don't have a camera, and husband used up the phone battery doing stupid work-related stuff).
I didn't take to camping with the ease that my dog did, but overall I had a good time. It didn't hurt that we were leant this giant tent and divine blow-up mattress. Sooo comfortable. If I owned that thing, I would still be sleeping on it. I certainly was no poster child of style while camping. Derek literally said to me: "you look really unfashionable." -_- Gone are the good old days when husbands knew nothing about clothes, let me tell you. I couldn't even remember where I had packed my deodorant, clearly looking halfway presentable was also lightyears out of my reach. I'll just blame it on the fact that I had to get up with Linus at five in the morning on the first day. I hope that excuse is sufficient. Besides those things, and the dog getting some diarrhoea courtesy of table scraps, there were no major mishaps, and it might have even been worth the four days of not showering.