First, a man of bronze - who we shall call George for obvious reasons - lying on the beach, a confident man, a proud man...a man who has seen too much sun. My husband pointed him out to me and I gasped. Thankfully the roar of the sea prevented George from hearing my not too nice comments about his blue swim trunks, gold jewelry and GASP white socks ("Why George, why?").
Then we spied a tiny pug - whom I have dubbed Duke the Brave (after John Wayne, who let no criminal go unpunished...pilgrim) - prancing down the beach next to his rotund owner. He was wearing a life vest, because should the tide come rushing in, his little puggish legs would not be strong enough to swim back to shore, but no leash.
Duke spotted George. Duke went to investigate George. Duke thought George smelled a little funny, so Duke licked George's face vigorously. George (who had been peacefully dozing) wasn't too happy about this and made it known. But having done his job, Duke skipped off down the beach thinking to himself "A thorough washing is the only kind of washing."
No comments:
Post a Comment