The ice chests have ice in them. Trudy has begun transferring the foodstuffs from the fridge. And the dogs both know that something’s going on.
That Guinness should know is perhaps not surprising. He’s twelve years old and has seen it all before. So in the interest of ensuring that we don’t leave without him, he shadows our every step. (Indeed, he lies at my feet as we speak.)
But that Izzy should know is altogether different. She’s only one. How would she know ice chests? How would she know packing up the food? How would she know that we’re about to leave? Yet know she does. (And indeed, she is glued to the floor in the kitchen next to the big ice chests, and nothing will entice away.)
They both know something’s going on, but what they don’t know is that they are both … going camping with us.