I awoke this morning to discover the was sun shining and the weather fine. Another day that I'm thankful to be alive, fit and well, living in paradise. As I mentioned before, we've been having some unseasonally gorgeous weather and for the first time in my life, I'm sporting a little colour! The 'incidental' tan - as I like to call it. I'm not one for baking, just as I'm not one for premature aging, so generally I don't seek to tan and as a result I'm always a lovely shade of white.
Each day I take Bill down the beach for an hour or so and he fucking loves it! Chasing after the ball, sniffing other dogs arses, taking a dip and digging like the boys from 'The Great Escape'... it's like a dream come true for the little tyke. And it's not too bad from my perspective either! I get to walk along the beach, soak in the sun, the surf and ponder the universe and life. It is really my way of getting things in perspective. You simply can't be in a bad mood, while surrounded by such beauty... can you?
Well... apparently you can!
Today, I took Billy down the beach around midday. It was high tide and usually I like to walk down there on low, but it was so beautiful I couldn't resist - besides I couldn't ignore Billy's 'I'm bored shitless, lets go to the beach' eyes another moment!
At high tide, the beach is usually empty. It's the only dog beach around, so it's always filled with people and dogs at low tide, but because of the lack of beach space at high, they tend to stay away every other day. Today was no different.
Billy and I walked for around 20 minutes or so and didn't come across a single sole. Once we got around the headland, I stopped and started looking for shells along the shore line. Bill usually potters around sniffing the rocks and digging holes. I zoned out for a minute or so and then turned around to see where Bill was. He was running towards an older lady sitting on the beach, sun hat on, book in hand, scowl on face. Obviously, she was not a 'dog' person. Billy is pretty good... he doesn't annoy people... most of the time. She was flailing her arms about in disgust, and Bill thought it was a game! Rule No. 1 - ignore a dog if you don't want it to jump all over you. He would have gone up to suss her out, and walked back immediately if she didn't start carrying on like a fucking pork chop.
I yelled out 'Oh my god! I'm so sorry... Here Billy!'... To which she replied... __________________________________ Dead silence... Absolutely nothing! Just scowled at me, much like an angry, unsocialised dog. Her stare followed me down the beach as if I'd done something unforgiveable - like flicking a lit ciggie butt in her eye (next time, Gadget, next time). 'I'm really sorry', I said, 'I didn't see you there... I would have paid closer attention to him if I'd noticed you there, sorry!'. Once again, she just shot me daggers from underneath her fugly straw hat but not a word passed her tightly pursed lips.
What does such an arsehole of a person look like... Let me paint a picture for you... Empty beach, fat old cow sitting on a beach towel near the dunes, Red floral bathers (probably with the built in skirt), white sarong, straw hat with matching ribbon trim to her bathers, reading some fucking Catherine Cookson novel (I can only assume it was Cookson - possibly Virgina Andrews though). Fucking bitch - literally! He's only a puppy... and he's on the only dog beach in the area. Not too mention, there are a million signs everywhere stating that fact. She could have chosen any one of the surrounding beaches to lie her lazy arse on, but she chose the 'dog' beach so suffer in her red floral print swimmer jocks.
It put me in a fowl mood... for all of 30 seconds. Then I continued to walk with my beautiful puppy, feeling the sun beaming down on my skin, hearing the surf pounding on the shore and now pondering how miserable that old bitches life must be. It drew a smile to my lips. Another day in paradise!