The Bahamas
The Reluctant Adventures of Captain Hastings the Boat Dog
Long Days on Long Island
Someone needs to get my humans some gainful employment because things are going from bad to worse here. From strange to bizarre to confounding.
We recently came to a new island, Long Island. It has a beach. This beach isn't my favorite. The sand is crunchy to walk on yet not firm; my paws sink down and it makes it hard to run.
But walking on the beach is too pedestrian for my humans. No, they have to have a tiny shell contest. Every walk. Long Island is perfect to imbibe this malarkey. Remember how I mentioned the sand is crunchy? That's because a lot of it is pre-sand sand. You know, tiny shells. The humans try and out-do themselves to see who can find the tiniest shells. They look, they pick up, they marvel at the gloriousness of this very tedious enterprise.
If only they put this much effort into dinner. They can obviously be very dedicated, why can't they dedicate themselves to getting jobs so they can afford air conditioning, big, working fridges, and more cheese? Oh, I haven't mentioned that they can look at shells all day, but our fridge, the cheese storing device, died about a month ago and they have made 0, I mean 0 efforts at fixing it. There's a saying "if it aint broke don't fix it", and I get that, but they seem to have descended into "if it's broke, oh well".
Just as I am recovering from the terrors of the beach, an adventure is announced. God, do I hate adventures. "To the beach for internet hour and laundry". Internet hour is the worst. Laundry hour is the worst. They are now combining two of the worst hours into what? 4 hours of un-abetted torture? Someone call the authorities and take these people to the funny farm already!
We get to the beach. We sit down. There are nice people here. Laundry is started.
I can lay in the sand and stare at the other people. Not as bad as it usually is. But then, let me tell you, the most amazing thing, something that should happen every day, but only happens once a lifetime with these two bean-counting misers, happens. A pizza is put on our table. A whole pizza! I love internet and laundry hour!
Back home. Mom puts the clean sheets on the bed, saying how much she loves clean sheets, she hasn't had machine washed sheets since Miami, this is the best, etc. I get to lay on a dirty towel because I love dirt. She goes to brush her teeth. As a thank you for the lovely pizza, I have a special surprise: not only do the humans get clean sheets, but I'm going to spend 5 minutes burrowing and rolling in them to fully distribute hundreds of tiny bits of sand, since they love it so much. Now they can have a tiniest grain of sand contest from the comfort of home! Aren't they lucky?
6 comments
Isn't anthropomorphism the best! But not in this case. Hastings texted his surprise intention to use aromatherapy on your sheets. Lucky us to sleep with spaniels.
ReplyDeleteLol, lucky us! He only sleeps in our bed for about 10 minutes, just long enough to get all the sand off, then he wants to sleep in his bed in the salon. And he's cursing you for giving us the idea of the non-stop tiny shell contest :-)
DeleteWhat is it with dogs and pizza? Is it the cheese? Or the fact that it's food? These are the questions that keep me up at night. ;-)
ReplyDeleteStephanie @ SV CAMBRIA
Well, it's got to be both - it's cheese, and it's food! Pepperoni is best, don't waste time on nasty vile weeds.
DeleteThis is so funny! Hastings is no dummy! He is a smarty and a comfy one at this. Now be honest: do you guys like the sand and shells on shore better, or the ones to curl up in? :-) I love fresh sheets and towels and being able to wash them on shore is a treat! I hope you don't have to go back now and do it all again!
ReplyDeleteLOL. Sand should be kept on shore, or it should be abolished entirely and paved. I shook the sheets out, that's good enough. Our standards have significantly lowered!
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