October
means Denmark and Denmark means
BEACH! Chapter 23
(October 2003):
Golden October in Denmark
The
only reason I can think of for sticking your hand in your pocket is to reach the
cookies.
And the only reason I can think of for having cookies in your pocket is to feed
Gráinne.
(With
apologies to A. A. Milne
and Winnie the Pooh)
October
means Denmark and Denmark means
BEACH!
Of course I knew it the moment we turned towards the sea and I began to sing and dance in the back seat.
Once we're there my GPS, Global Positioning System, tells me where our cottage is, which dune to leave the beach by, and of course: which cottage has food on the table. No, wait a minute; that’s my nose.
I’m allowed to travel without a leash now: from the cottage five minutes through the dunes to the beach and all along the beach.
One place I have to feign nonchalance or they hook me up: at the end of our road there’s a cottage where they always cook with the door open! Best tactic: trot down the path, la-la-la-la-la, looking in the other direction, then suddenly a quick jerk to the left and - whoosh! - off to their kitchen!
On
the other hand our own kitchen is delivering some mighty fine fare. My new
passion is fish. Daddy makes
fish twice a day,
all different kinds,
and I make sure that I get my share.
Mummy picks the bones clean for me after every meal.
We spend two to fours hours a day on the beach. My humans stroll and I encourage them to go a bit faster to get in shape.
Sometimes I run a little way into the waves but I haven't caught anything yet. I don't have to wear my lemon yellow life jacket this year, because the water is so calm that there is no danger of my being swallowed by a wave.
Mostly I run a little ahead, checking out the dogs and the chances of a picnic (mostly a fisherman's worms at this time of the year. But there's always the chance of grabbing candy from a baby).
|
|
|
|
Most of the canines don't really know how to play, but I've met two really cool Henrys who respond correctly to a Wheaten Whirl and Butt Bump with a healthy chase.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
In the evening we go back down to the beach and say good-bye to the sun. Even the dogs are full of awe at the sun's rays on the water. Then Daddy makes fish dinner while Mummy combs my tangled locks. Yes, members of the My Fur Belongs To Me Club, believe it or not, it's worth it. Take your folks to Denmark and you'll see.
|
|
|
|
|
|
