We made the short trek to the beach this morning with the dogs, bringing along a pair of 20-foot leads and some water toys. Both took to the water like fish, or at least like the parts of them that are retrievers.
They splashed a lot and liked to chase the incoming waves, and I was successful at keeping them from drinking the salt water. (You don’t want to know what happens when dogs ingest too much of that. We learned the hard way with Honey a couple of weeks after 9/11 at Sandy Hook. We enjoyed it immensely — until the salt-water kicked in and Honey into a fountain. But I’ve said too much.)
A woman was jogging past and the dogs ran over to her — it is difficult to control dogs on 20-foot leads — and Sophie promptly did her stop, drop and roll, seeking a belly-rub from a total stranger. She did it again a bit later to this woman who was down here from Massachusetts — Sophia is a fiend for the belly rubs.
My niece Kim was in charge of Rosie (right), but Rosie is incredibly strong and Kim and my sister-in-law Susan had all they could do to handle her. And then, as if Annie’s vacation hasn’t gone badly enough (she is sick), Sophie pulled hard on her sand-coated leash and scraped Annie’s leg up pretty badly.
So now, we’re back at the house resting and I think I’ll go for a run. It seems like a nice time for one, after all.
Hank Kalet 