A Weekend Adventure

Between the pandemic and my two jobs (full time Administrative Assistant for Sister and part time Administrative Assistant for Ma and Pa), I haven’t gotten a lot of vacation time. On top of that, both the spring and fall Dog Days at my estate were cancelled and, while I have gone on more walks lately (and have actually come to enjoy and instigate them), I haven’t gotten the opportunity to meet a lot of new friends on those walks (both the two and four legged variety) as everyone is trying to avoid one another.

But Sister decided last weekend that it was time to take a break from my workaholic ways; it was time for me and my family to have an adventure.

All great adventures, at least for me, start with a car ride and after I was boosted in (I’m a little leery about climbing into the car right now), I paced and panted excitedly throughout the entire trip which was admittedly short, but provided me with enough time to drool on the back of the driver’s headrest and put nose prints on the newly cleaned windows.

After parking the car, Sister let me out of the backseat. I looked around. There was sand on the pavement and the distinct smell of water in the air. I was at the local beach!

Now, I’ve gone to the beach before (some loyal readers might recall my family’s failed attempt to get me to swim), but it’s not one of my usual haunts, so I was super excited to explore.

I pulled Sister all over the beach: up into the fluffy dry sand and down toward the rocky wet sand. I even dipped my toes in the water! And while I did all this, I also managed to produce my longest shoelace drool on record. 

 

There were only two disappointing aspects of the entire adventure. First, Sister did not alert me to the fact that there was a half-eaten fish on the shore that I would have loved to sniff if given the opportunity. The other problem was that no one thought to bring me drinking water. Now, normally, in November, this wouldn’t be too much of a problem—I’ve taken many a November walk where I waited until I got home to get a drink—but it was unseasonably warm (70 degrees) and well, fur coat. But despite secrets and a dry mouth, I persevered and thoroughly enjoyed my outing.

When we got home, Ma brought out a towel to wipe off my feet, a brush to brush the sand from my fur, and a big bowl of water. Well, I was so thirsty at this point that I basically dove into the water. I drank and drank and drank. Then, I stuck my foot in the bowl, dug at it twice, and drank some more. While I drank, Ma tried to wipe off my paws, but at this point it was kind of pointless because I was standing in a pool of drool and water. When I was done drinking, I circled my bowl twice and laid down next to it.

As soon as I got comfortable, my relaxation was immediately disrupted by the sound of my family laughing. I looked up at them wearily not immediately knowing what their problem was, but after a moment I figured it out: my ear was hanging in my water dish.

I considered moving my ear from the water bowl, but ultimately decided that if I wanted to sleep with my ear in my water then that was my prerogative. I was lounging on my deck, in the shade, in a pool of water and drool, and I had a bowl full of water so close that I didn’t even need to get up to get a drink. What else could a pup ask for?

While I Was Out

This was an odd month.

It all started three Fridays ago (yeah, Sister's been kind of negligent when it comes to recording my stories...you just can't get good help).  Anyway, three Fridays ago, Sister got up earlier than usual (she's about as much a morning person as I am, so her getting up early is always a surprise) and rather than pack her work bag, she packed her overnight bag, kissed me on the snout, and left the house.

A few hours later, she sent me the following video.

I was confused.  That barking in the background?  It sounded really familiar, but I just couldn't put my paw on it.  Those deer, however, definitely looked familiar (actually, I'm pretty sure I've barked at them before).  And that backyard?  Not only was it familiar, I knew exactly where it was.  It was my backyard out east.

A little later, Sister sent me the following picture and things suddenly started to make sense.

It was my bff Mecki and his little brother Bastille!

But then I started thinking...what are Mecki and Bastille doing in my house out east?

I learned later that Sister and Karin had spent the weekend out east eating Reubens (they didn't bring me a doggy bag), hunting for treasure on the beach with a metal detector (they dug up a quarter without my help), sightseeing (the last time I went to Greenport it was 95 degrees and Pa and I spent an hour looking for a shady tree to sit under), and painting rocks (if you recall, growing up, rocks were "my only friends").  And when they weren't directly included in the fun, Mecki and Bastille lounged in my house and barked at my deer!

Collar Bling

Two days later (and smelling like Mecki and Bastille), Sister came home and brought with her a peace offering for me--some bling for my collar.  Now, I was a bit annoyed that I wasn't invited on the trip, but Sister's gift was just so me that I couldn't be too mad at her for very long.  I mean, look at it!  As my loyal readers know, I so don't get fetch!

Anyway, as the new week began and life got back to normal, I kind of forgot about the previous weekend (except for the occasional fits of laughter that came about whenever Sister described Bastille lunging face first at the glass window and sliding down it cartoon style).  In fact, by the time the following weekend rolled around, my concern and bitterness had disappeared completely.

Which brings me to two Friday nights ago.  After they had returned home from work and finished their dinners, Ma and Pa whisked me into the car and we headed out east.

When I got there, I immediately ran inside the house and hot footed it to my pillow where my toys are usually kept.  But they weren't there.  Ma, thinking quickly, grabbed a squeaky ball left on the table and tossed it onto my pillow.  I lowered my head to grab the toy, but stopped inches from the ball.  My pillow smelled like Mecki.

I looked up quizzically at Ma who was watching me expectantly.  It was then that I realized that there was a wafting smell of Mecki and Bastille bombarding me from all directions.  I sniffed my way around the living room, then into the kitchen and the dining room.  I circled back into the living room (sniffed the bulging eye/nose smudge left on the window by Bastille's leap) then made my way to the guest room and bathroom.  Their scent was all around, yet my four-legged pals were nowhere to be seen.

Ma suggested at this point that we should go outside and check the perimeters, and do you know what?  Mecki and Bastille's scent was all over the backyard too.  I went around sniffing every tree and following every trail.  I sniffed high and low and even circled back a few times to sniff a spot again.  I was so preoccupied with the task of tracking my friends that I didn't even realize that I had wandered out the side gate until I heard Ma screaming my name.  She found me in the neighbor's front yard, hooked a finger under my collar, and escorted me back into my yard.  After a few more sniffs, Ma and I went back inside the house.

Once inside, I followed Pa, who seemed distracted by something, into the basement where I discovered that even that part of the house smell like my bff and his little brother.  I didn't get a great chance to really investigate because after a minute or so Pa hurried up the stairs to report that the heat wasn't working (I didn't notice, but then again, I'm always wearing a coat) and I felt like I needed to be present at the troubleshooting session that would surely follow the news.

An hour later, a knocking came at the door.  I started barking furiously expecting the knocker to be Mecki or Bastille showing up to end this game of hide and go seek.  Well, it wasn't Mecki or Bastille, but instead a repairman who made his way through the living room, then the kitchen, the dining room, and finally down into the basement to fix the burner.

Great, I thought, another trail to follow!

A Very Busy Day

Chillin'

There are days made for relaxation--days filled with long naps lying in the grass, soaking up the sun on the porch, or curled up on the couch.  But the Saturday in which the following events occurred, a Saturday which happened about a month and a half ago out east, was not one of those days.

The day started bright and early with me investigating my backyard for an intruder who had apparently made himself quite comfortable in my week-long absence.  That's the problem with visiting out east only on the weekends--many animals such as deer, stupid little bunnies, squirrels, voles, moles, field mice, robins, cats, and other dogs assume that my backyard is up for grabs.  Well, it isn't!  Anyway, I was so busy sniffing around following the trail of heaven knows what that I almost didn't notice that my buddy Bruno (the Boxer next door) was at the fence wanting to say hello.  Key word here?  Almost.  The annoying trespassers completely wiped from my mind, I immediately scurried over to the property line and bunked noses with Bruno.  After saying hello, Bruno and I began chasing each other up and down the fence which, admittedly, is a bit hard for Bruno to do since there are tall bushes on his side.  He managed to make do, however, weaving in and out of the shrubbery while tearing off stray branches as he passed.

Eventually, Bruno went back inside and I resumed my intruder search.  All of a sudden, a voice called out with the words "up and in!"  It was Sister's voice.  Heeding the advice, I began running at full speed across the yard and up the flight of stairs leading to the house.  It's a favorite activity of mine, by the way, running headlong across the yard and up the stairs.  I've done it hundreds of times and it never gets old.  But this time, something went wrong.  I missed one of the last few steps before the top.  The sound of wooden step on canine knee resonated like an echo and I stumbled my way up the final steps with a limp.  Sister came running up beside me and quickly checked my knee.  She asked if I was okay and rubbed my ear when I wagged my tail and took a couple of tentative steps without limping.  With only a little blemish to my pride, I went into the house and collected a get-well cookie from Sister.

A couple of hours later, Sister announced that she was going to the beach and was wondering if I would like to go with her.  Now, some might look back on all the excitement from earlier in the day and say: "You know, I'm a bit tired (and sore), maybe I'll pass on this trip."  But not me!  Nope.  I jumped up and ran straight to the door eager to start the next adventure. 

Smiling at the Beach

Minutes later, Ma, Sister, and I arrived, via the car, at the beach and I proceeded to pull Sister left and right along the shore sniffing at shells, sea plants, and reeds.  But then a strange thing happened.  I suddenly had a dreadful urge to go into the water.  Now, this might not sound too weird.  Golden Retrievers, after all, are supposed to love playing in the water.  But as my readers know, I'm not a huge fan of water, unless I'm dig-dig-digging in the doggy pool.  In fact, I usually have to be enticed into the ocean with a cookie or a piece of seaweed dangling on a stick as a lead. But not that day.  Nope, the ocean was calling me and despite Ma's cries that it was too cold, I kept dragging Sister closer and closer to the water.  At one point, I managed to pull Sister close enough to dip my feet in a stagnant pool formed by a little cove.  The water was nice and cool and felt oh so good on my toes.  But when Sister pulled me out, I noticed something.  There was a nasty smell following me.  I looked around confused; where was the smell coming from?  Then I looked down at my paws and realized with horror that the smell was coming from them--it was the stagnant water I had just stepped in.  The smell was so distracting, in fact, that I could only walk for a step or two before stopping to stare at my feet.  This odd gait drew Ma's attention and, after putting two and two together, determined that the residual smelly water on my toes was what was bothering me.  In an attempt to remedy the situation, Sister led me down to an open bit of shoreline and allowed me to step into the cold fresh water to wash off.  With the stinky smell behind me, Ma, Sister, and I continued on with our walk.

A little bit down the beach, I came upon a group of three women and two dogs--one large black lab and a smaller brown pup.  The two dogs rushed over to me and we said our hellos.  The three women came over shortly thereafter to talk to Ma and Sister and scratched my ears while the larger black dog wandered away to continue to explore the beach.  I must have mistakenly thought that the smaller dog named Augie (a name that Ma wanted to give me so that she could refer to me as "Augie Doggy") also wandered off because when he suddenly stepped out from behind his human and barked at me with his high-pitched bark, I jumped about ten feet.  One of the ladies then asked if she could give me a cookie.  As I've done before (most recently to that nice lady at Old Westbury Gardens) I snubbed the cookie and walked away.

After walking for a little while longer, Ma, Sister, and I mutually decided that it was time to go home.  We wandered our way back to the car and I happily jumped in and hunkered down in the backseat.  I had just started dozing off when we arrived back at home.  So out the car I jumped and made my way back into the house and settled down on my pillow.

The rest of the evening, at first, appeared to be uneventful.  I snoozed peacefully on my pillow and in front of the fire (I love snoozing in front of a nice warm fire) while my family ate dinner and watched television.  But then it was time for the final business trip of the night and I begrudgingly rose from my bed and wandered outside with Pa.  As is customary, when I got outside, I immediately started toward my business spot all the way across the yard, but after taking a few steps in that direction, I sensed movement by the fence and took off after it like a bat out of hell.

I'm not sure what I saw that evening--it was way too dark for either Pa or me to see--but whatever it was, I chased it up and over the back fence and out of my yard.  A day that started with me tracking an interloper ended with me chasing one away.

After doing business, I wandered back into the house and went to bed.  After such an exciting and exhausting day, I was desperate for a good night sleep.

Salty Dog

A Salty Dog

At long last, fall has finally arrived and with it some cool crisp weather.  And in tandem with the cool weather, a seemingly endless supply of puppy energy has begun to occasionally radiate from within me.  I mean, I've always been what you might call a sprinter--good at quick bursts of energy followed by multiple long stretches of downtime (AKA naps).  But lately, I've been more like a marathon pup; taking part in back to back action packed activities without the benefit of a quick (or lengthy) cat nap (and yes, I really don't like using the "c" word when describing my traits or personality, but a saying is a saying, right?).  And it's weird.  I mean, I am the King of Naps and napping is my fourth favorite activity (for the record, #1 is eating, #2 is barking, and #3 is causing destruction), yet here I am voluntarily giving them up for near constant activity.

So what marathon of activity have I been up to?  Allow me to describe one recent Saturday.

Ma

Pa, Ma, Sister, and I were out east.  The week before, a rather large wind storm had gone through the area bringing down a lot of twigs and one rather good-sized tree branch.  Armed with a wagon and multiple lawn waste bags, Ma, Pa, and I made our way outside that morning to clean up the yard in our own tried and true ways:  Ma and Pa kept bending down to pick the twigs and throw them away while I turned small sticks into sawdust using my teeth.

A little while later, Sister joined us armed with a handsaw.  Now people may not be aware of this, but either Sister was destined to be a tree trimmer or she has some not so hidden anger issues because she absolutely loves cutting down branches.  I can't tell you how many times I've seen her come home from work and, still dressed in her work clothes and heels, grab a handsaw and cut down a low hanging or dead branch from the cherry tree in the backyard.  So anyway, Sister made her way over to the big branch and started sawing away at it.  From my point of view, Sister seemed to be having a lot of fun, so I decided to join in.  I grabbed hold of one of the lesser branches and started pulling.  Before long, Sister and I had a genuine game of tug of war going--me grabbing branch after branch and tugging and Sister trying not to cut her arm off with the handsaw as she continued with the task at hand.  Oh, it was great fun.

Once Sister finally managed to cut off the first piece, I scurried over, picked up the one-foot branch, and hot-footed away for a rousing game of keep away with Ma and Pa (in many ways, it looked as though I was trying to club someone in the kneecap what with me running around with a giant tree branch hanging out of the side of my mouth).  And oh boy was I in rare form that day.  Ma and Pa had no chance of catching up to me...unless...I got too excited and was overcome with a case of the zoomies.

For those unaware, as Sister and I were as of a couple of weeks ago, zoomies or Frenetic Random Activity Periods (FRAP) are bursts of energy in which a dog suddenly starts racing around in circles with a wild and crazy glint in his eye.

Yep, that's right, I suddenly became overcome with an urge to run.  And run I did--between the trees, up and down the stairs, and to and from the fence where Bruno, the Boxer puppy next door, watched with a mixture of excitement and puzzlement.

Now normally, tug of war, keep away, and a case of the zoomies would have left me totally exhausted, but not this time.  Nope, I was bright eyed and bushy-tailed and more than happy to entertain Sister's next bright idea: go to the beach.

The beach is a short drive from my house and I spent those minutes pacing in the back seat of the car, huffing in Sister's ear as she drove, and drooling on her shoulder.  As we drove, Sister explained to me that I wasn't going to be allowed to play in the water because it was too cold out and that I would be subjected to a bath upon my return if I did.  It didn't matter though.  There was no way I was going into the water.  Despite my heritage, I am not fond of swimming. 

Taking in the View

Not A Clean Leap

When we finally got to the beach, I jumped out of the car and dragged Sister to the shore, kicking up sand as I went. Up and down the beach we walked.  I successfully climbed up a number of one foot high "cliffs" formed by a receded high tide and failed miserably at climbing up others.  I sniffed beach grass, left giant paw prints in the sand, and even found a deceased animal that Sister identified as a decomposing opossum (Sister didn't let me sniff it, but the exposed skull matched the skull I dug up last year in the backyard at home).

About a half hour later, Sister and I walked back to the car and drove home.  Once there, I jumped out and barreled (yes barreled...I still had energy to spare) down the stairs and into the backyard to tell Ma and Pa (who were still picking up sticks) about all the fun I had had.

Out Cold

So, for those keeping track, I had, in the course of a few short hours, played tug of war and keep away, went to the beach, and ran around the backyard with abandon.  And that's where it ended.  I scurried up the stairs one last time to get back into the house then found a comfy spot and fell slept.  I woke briefly an hour or so later to eat my dinner, but returned to my nap immediately thereafter.

I guess this goes to show I'll always be a sprinter.

An Exciting Weekend

Last weekend was a particularly exciting weekend for me--one filled with a grand adventure and a strange sight.

My family was going to the beach, but I wasn't invited.  You see, I'm almost never invited on these excursions, but, honestly, that's okay with me.  Why?  Because it is really hard work keeping track of three people (you never know when someone is going to try to eat a piece of cheese without my supervision) and sometimes even a world renowned "Head of Security" needs a break.  I consider it my own private vacation.

So anyway, after I collected my bribery cookie (payment for not trying to race people out the door when they leave--yes, I have my humans very well trained) and watched my family pull out of the driveway, I scurried into the back room, jumped up on the bed, and hunkered down for a nice peaceful nap.

Ten minutes later, and before I could chase my first dream squirrel, I was awoken by the sound of the side door opening and footsteps scurrying through the kitchen.  Groggily, I opened my eyes, jumped off the bed, and wandered (cautiously) into the living room to check on the commotion.  And what did I find?  I found Sister, standing in the middle of the kitchen, with my leash and collar in hand.  "Want to go to the beach?" she asked.

Did I?  Of course I did!

Sister loaded me into the car (yay!  I didn't have to walk there) and we started down the street.  I was super excited; I paced back and forth in the backseat (because it was such a short trip, Sister didn't bother to strap me into my driving harness), I stared out the window, and I drooled excessively.  I even took some time to breathe down Sister's neck in an attempt to get her to drive faster (she didn't drive any faster, she just complained about how I was grossing her out).  Seconds later, Sister parked the car, opened my door (despite my excitement, I was a good boy and waited for her to give me the okay to get out), then jumped out of the car with an excited bound.

That was when the "good boy" in me disappeared.  At top speed, I dragged Sister back and forth down the path toward the beach, sniffing each and every reed growing up along the way.  I also sniffed the bicycle rack and a few kayaks along the way.  I was about to grab hold of a blow up swimmy someone had left behind on the beach, when I happened to look up and see a very friendly sight.

There, seated about twenty feet away were Ma and Pa.  Pulling like I had never pulled before, I sprinted toward them (Sister, to her credit, managed to hang on to my leash and remain upright on her own two feet) and, upon reaching Pa, I dragged my wet nose across his sunglasses.

Now, I had been warned early on that I wasn't going to be allowed in the water (if I got wet I would have to get a bath), but that didn't discourage me at all.  I was more than happy to wander up and down the shoreline with Ma and Sister, roll around in a patch of dried out seaweed, and eventually plop down at my family's feet while they sat watching the water.

The outing did not last particularly long (a local dog, a goldendoodle with a puppy cut, was wandering the beach without an owner and while she looked very friendly and we likely would have hit it off, my family and I were concerned about making friends without her human around), but that was okay because by the time this second cousin showed up I was already completely exhausted from all my sniffing and rolling.  So, Pa, Ma, Sister and I jumped back into the car and headed for home.  Once I was let inside the house (after a quick brushing to remove any lingering sand and seaweed from my handsome coat), I drank an entire bowl of water then settled down for a much needed nap.

A few hours later, I was hanging out in the living room working on my extended nap.  All of a sudden, I was jolted awake by Sister crying out the word "look!"  A little disoriented, I jumped up and surveyed the room.  Ma and Sister were both staring out the window so I turned to see what all the hubbub was.

There was a woman riding down the street on top of a giant black and white horse.

Needless to say, I started barking hysterically at this strange site.

Now usually, when it comes to me barking at things, I can only get in a good five or six barks before someone steps in and attempts to get me to stop (not that I do, but their interference is annoying).  No matter what is going on, I am abruptly shooed away before I can give the interloper a full piece of my mind.  Well, not this time.  Because I had never seen a horse before (let alone one casually meandering down my block), Ma and Sister allowed me to bark until I had said everything I had to say and then some.  And you know what?  It worked.  That horse didn't pass by my house again.

Vacation

Greetings from a devilishly handsome pup who recently returned from a thirteen day excursion to sunny eastern Long Island; a land of big back yards, interesting smells, and, most importantly, central air coupled with cool floors.

 

 

Introducing Betsy Ross!

Yep, that’s right, I was on vacation, and it was great from its very first minutes. You see, my family took two cars out east: Pa and I drove out in his car while Ma, Sister, and the newest hamster Betsy Ross took Sister’s car. This is my favorite driving arrangement—it means that I don’t have to share the backseat with Sister (nothing against the girl, but I think her continued insistence that she is allotted a full one third of the backseat can only be described as unreasonable).

But as wonderful as the ride was, it paled in comparison to the fun that was to come over the next week and a half. Here’s some of the stuff I did:

• I stole a toy sword from the little boy who lives next door. Now, before anyone thinks me a brute, allow me to explain that the sword was on my side of the fence so, legally, it was mine. Anyway, I grabbed hold of the sword by its handle and ran around the backyard with Sister in hot pursuit (I think she thought that I might try to threaten a squirrel with it—not a bad idea!). After a couple of loops around the backyard, I found a nice cool spot on the grass, plopped down, and proceeded to gnaw on the sword’s handle. Sister caught up with me shortly thereafter and took the sword away from me. She then threw the sword back over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
• I defended my turf against the exterminator…wearing a bee suit. I won’t lie, the bee suit threw me at first, but I quickly recovered and barked at him both with and without a tennis ball in my mouth (I am truly gifted when it comes to barking...my family doesn’t call me a “barky boy” for nothing). 
• I tried my hand at old fashioned letter writing by sending a postcard to my friends Mecki, Bastille, and Ralphie (the problem with writing postcards is that they don’t allow for random pictures to be inserted into the text for no apparent reason). 

  

  See?!  Random is Good!

• I bunked noses with “Sausage Dog” who lives next door (I was also barked at—rather unpleasantly—by the other two dogs living next door, but I didn’t let that bother me). 
• I found a smelly chunk of fish in the backyard and, while Pa and Sister wouldn’t let me eat it, I did get a few licks in before anyone realized it was there. This marks the second time that a fish was discovered in my backyard. The first time happened a few weeks ago when Pa discovered an entire fish lying in the grass (talk about unseasonable weather!). I’m hoping the next piece of fish comes with tartar sauce and lemon. 
• I added a new variation the daily squeaky bone/squeaky football game that I play with Pa, Ma, and Sister. 
1. My playmate throws my squeaker toy as far across the yard as he can (Pa is very good at this step—he throws it very far; Sister isn’t so good, in fact, she nearly clocked me a couple of times when she accidentally threw my toy downward rather than outward).
2. I sprint after the toy, grab it in my mouth, take two steps, then throw myself down into the grass to chew on the squeaker. 
3. My playmate, who by this time has walked the entire length of the yard to my current location, tries to grab my toy, but I get up and run away, my toy clenched firmly in my mouth. 
4. And here’s the new addition to the game: I run toward the house, gallop up the ten steps onto the porch, and sit down patiently at the side door as my playmate trudges across the yard and up the stairs after me. Upon getting the toy from me, my playmate then chucks it back into the yard, and makes his way down the steps and back into the yard. 
5. Repeat steps two through four over and over and over again (and let me tell you, the look on my playmate’s face as he climbs the stairs for the sixth time is priceless). 

A Sample of My Handiwork

• I took a large branch that fell from one of the trees in the backyard and turned it into a pile of smaller branches. Now, if Ma hadn’t taken those smaller branches away from me when she did, I would have turned them into even smaller sticks and, eventually, landscaping chips.

But what was the absolute, number one highlight of the entire vacation (aside from cool floor tiles and central air I spoke of earlier)? Paws down, it was my trip to the beach.

My Beach

The day started extremely early and with a flourish of activity. Everyone was up: Ma, Pa, and, oddly enough, Sister who usually doesn’t make an appearance until much later in the morning (she shares my love for sleeping late). But even more peculiar (and distressing) was the fact that, despite everyone being up and about, no one was showing any sign of getting me my breakfast. And so, with an empty stomach, Ma, Pa, Sister, and I piled into Pa’s car and pulled out of the driveway. A few short blocks later, Pa parked the car and we all got out. As soon as I got a whiff of the cool bay breeze I knew where we were and immediately started pulling Pa in the direction of the beach.

Pa and Me

Up and down the beach I ran, kicking up sand as I went. Occasionally, I’d run a little too fast and a little too far and come to a quick halt when I ran out of leash (Pa, restricted by the fact that he has only has two legs, couldn’t keep up with me and my four legs), but even that didn’t slow me down—I’d just go right back to running. Then, all of a sudden, I got an idea. Why not run into the water?

Now, I’ve been to this beach before, but when I was there last it was winter time (there was snow on the ground) and I was not allowed to play in the water because Ma said it was too cold (though I did disobey her by running, full force, toward the water to dip my nose into the freezing cold surf—it was a less than pleasant experience).

Anyway, this time, no one stopped me from running into the water. In fact, everyone came in after me; even Ma (though not as deep as me). And speaking of deep water—I waded all the way in until the water was up to the middle of my chest. Pa and Sister tried to get me to go in further; tried to get me to swim, but, as my loyal readers know from my profile bio, I don’t like to swim (or, more precisely, float).

 

Water in My Ears

So in and out of the water I ran, snapping at the waves, sniffing the seaweed, skidding down the dunes, and occasionally, taking a breather by lying on the warm sandy beach or in the cool shallow water. And as exhausted as I was when Pa said it was time to go home, I really wanted to stay (it didn’t help that I was told that there was a bath waiting for me when I got home).

Needless to say, I slept well that afternoon.

Of course, there were a handful of places that my family went where I was not allowed to join them (why certain establishments feel the need to forbid dogs—especially sophisticated, world famous bloggers such as myself—from entering their establishments will never make sense to me). Overall, I was okay with this arrangement; we all need some time to ourselves (it’s exhausting to keep track of Pa, Ma, and Sister), not to mention, I’d happily exchange a walk through Greenport on a 90 degree day for barking at the dogs next door from within my air conditioned house.

There was, however, one place I would have liked to have gone with my family: the aquarium. Why? Because, according to Sister, a relative of Mecki’s baby brother Bastille was there. You see, Mecki has repeatedly likened his new baby brother to a piranha because he’s all teeth. And what did Sister see at the aquarium?

Is it a piranha or is it Bastille?

So, overall, it was a great vacation. I played, I barked, I (nearly) floated, I napped, I stole, I smelled stinky things, and I lounged in air conditioned comfort. I’m home now, with my extensive collection of tennis balls, plush toys misshapen from multiple surgeries and amputations (I missed you Nuclear Bunny), and a herd of bunnies in the backyard who, I’m sure, have become quite cocky in my absence.

Whew...I think I'm going to need another vacation real soon!

Greetings from Eastern Long Island!

Sands Point

Lately, it's gotten really hot again.  Nighttime isn't so bad--I spend most of it in my Sister's air conditioned room--but the daytime is really tough because, aside from the bedrooms, no other room in the house has air conditioning.  Yeah, I get to play in the doggy pool on really hot days, but sometimes it's not enough.  Now, I've heard tell of a marvelous invention called "central air" and it sounds great to me.  How could it not be?  I mean, the entire house would be cool all the time!  I wonder if my humans ever heard of it?

Anyway, Pa told me this morning that it was my lucky day.  He said that my entire family and I were going to get in the car and drive to a place where I would feel much cooler.  "Whoo hoo!" I thought.  Not only was I going to get out of this heat, but I was also going to go for a car ride (and I know for a fact that the car has air conditioning).  He wouldn't, however, tell me where we were going.

It was really hard, but I waited patiently until it was finally time to leave the house later that afternoon.  We all piled into my Sister's car and we were off.  We drove for a long time, but aside from Pa not allowing me to sit on his lap in the back seat, I really didn't mind because it was nice a cool thanks to the air conditioning.  Eventually, we turned off the main road and onto a driveway where, before long, we pulled up to a little house where Sister stopped the car.   A nice lady came out of the house, declared how handsome I was, and asked if I could have a cookie.  That's all I needed to hear!  I started pushing my way into the front seat of the car, slobbering down Sister's back (she seemed less than amused by this, but then again it was her fault--she should have gotten out of my way).  The really nice lady came back with the cookie and Sister gave it to me while she wiped the slobber off her neck.  Sister then started up the car and we drove a little while longer until we reached a parking lot where we all got out of the car.

Water!

Once out of the car, I breathed in deeply and immediately knew exactly where my family had taken me.  We were at Sands Point!  I love Sands Point and this is why:  They allow dogs to visit all year round, there are lots of hiking trails with interesting smells, there's a beach to walk on (and roll on smelly sea creatures), and best of all...I'm allowed in the water!  Despite the heat, I started pulling my family down the trail that led to the Long Island Sound (they really need to learn to walk faster).  Eventually, we made it to the beach, and after climbing over some rocks and sniffing some seaweed, we made our way down to the water.

Pa trying to get me to swim

Now if you've read my profile, you already know that I'm not a big fan of swimming.  I've done it once before, at Sands Point in fact last year, but I simply do not like it when my feet are no longer touching the ground.  I do, however, love to frolic in the water--running in and out and snapping at the shallow waves which is exactly what I did.  I had so much fun and it was so refreshing!  Pa and Sister tried to get me to swim by luring me deeper and deeper into the water (once even with a piece of cookie), but I just didn't feel like it and kept going back to Ma who kept to shallower waters.  At one point, a lady and her two little girls came over to say hello to me.  The lady was very nice, she scratched my ears and said I was a very nice boy.  The girls were troublesome; they kept saying that they wanted to see me swim.  Despite that, I let them pet my back.

Just cooling off

We played in the water for a long time and when we were done I was really, really tired.  My family declared that we should go back home, but before we did, I rolled around in the sand to take full advantage of that fresh from the sea smell.  Then we got back in the car.  I slept the whole way home!

When we got home, Pa and Ma decided that I needed a bath to get rid of all the salt water on my fur.  I wasn't happy about it, but honestly, I was so tired from the fun I had at Sands Point that I didn't put up a fuss at all.