By Edith Beale the Bouvier
Saturday, March 2, 2002 was a warm day in San Francisco. Late in the afternoon, my companions decided to take me to the beach at Crissy Field. There’s a nice sandy beach on the northern side of The Presidio. I’ve never seen so much water. And, can you figure this, I couldn’t drink any of it. Paathooey! I spat it out. Ugh!
Well, so Mr. Wise-Guy, Ol’ What’s His Name, decided it would be a hoot to throw my tennis ball into the water to see what I would do about it. I mean, heck, what do I know about going to the beach?
Well, so this ball just floats there, bobbing up and down. Darnedest thing I ever saw. So, if it floats, I should be able to float too, right? So here’s where I took the plunge.
At least there was something solid under my feet. I didn’t quite float exactly. And, wouldn’t you know it, I got water up my nose. Discretion being the better part of valor, I decided to head for the beach. The ball can fend for itself.
So here I am, looking like a drowned rat, and some fool fetching dog is showing off with a Frisbee. I’m smart. I’m supposed to earn my keep by herding, shall we say, less intellectually endowed animals.
And, did I mention, it was cold out there? Anyway, there were other dogs to run with and I had fun.
At the end of the afternoon, I was a mess. What I didn’t know was that my companions had another new experience lined up for me. You’ll find about that as my life continues on the next page.
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Please visit Edith’s Web page again to find out what she has been up to, meet her friends, see where she has been walking and places she’s visited. If you have any questions or comments, please send them to Ol’ What’s-his-name. He will probably answer you. He’s got too much time on his hands.
Want to find out more about Bouviers? Read this tongue-in-cheek article, written by a breeder, who says you probably shouldn’t have one.