Letters keep a leash between home and kids at camp

Laura K. Silver is a trustee of the Jewish Light who writes a blog for the paper’s website (stljewishlight.com/laura).  She owns The Paper Trail of St. Louis, a financial and legal concierge service. Laura is married and the mother of two middle school age children.

By Laura K. Silver

When I ask my kids, who are at camp, whether they miss me, inevitably they tell me no.  I’m OK with that.  I really don’t want them pining over me.  Camp is their fun place, and they love it there more than anywhere else on earth.  

But you know who they do miss?  Their dog.  

This is their third summer at camp. Today, I sent one of my annual summer camp letters from our dog Logan.  If you have never sent a letter from your pet to your kids at camp, I suggest you do so.  Of all of the letters they get, the Logan letters are among their very favorite.  

Last year, I developed a template complete with paw print and “From the Desk of Logan A. Silver” on it so they would know when they were getting one.  (A. stands for Airport for anyone who is curious.)


This year, we are under construction in my backyard, so the letters are packed with warnings from Logan about the state of things.  She has warned them that if they don’t hurry home, their swing set is going to be gone.  Logan explains that my husband and I have lost our minds: We always tell her not to dig, and the second the kids were gone, we hired people to dig up the  backyard.  She tells them she would have done it for free.

Letters from prior years have offered Logan’s services in the dining hall.  

“No one will ever have to sweep again,” she promised.  

She tells them she is starving because of a lack of food dropping on the floor at home.  

Last year, my daughter was having a conversation with her friend about their dogs, comparing which was better and more talented.  The other girl boasted that her dog could sit and shake paws.  My daughter countered that her dog could sit and give you a high five.  They went back and forth a few times over this and that.  Finally, the other girl, who has a very large dog, said, “I can sit on my dog and he takes me for a ride.”  

My daughter looked at her for a moment in silence.  We have a small dog.  There was no counter for that.  For a second, she thought she had lost the best dog contest ’ but then she looked at her friend and smiled. 

“My dog writes me letters at camp,” she said.