My New Trail starts in the neighborhood where the ocean lives. I paid extra attention to signs of what kind of neighborhood it was as I patrolled my new turf and surf. The ocean must not be a good neighbor, because it had worn the paint off of any house that wasn't paying attention, and wherever there was metal it had tagged it up with bubbles of rust.
Mom and I have never been so badly matched as dance partners, so there are only so many places where Mom can walk with her elderly meatwad shuffle and I can frolic like a light-footed freight train. But I'm so starved for sprinting that even the old familiar places are exciting. When I smelled the beach coming, I whimpered a happy song and crawled up to the copilot's seat to look out the front window for all the dogs just waiting for me to chase them around in the sand.
Bodie started digging for gold while I supervised her work. Then, when she ran off to check if a puppy was worth bullying, I lay down in her hole, which was cool, and damp, and perfectly Oscar sized. For the next hour or so, we stayed in that spot, sunbathing or digging until a puppy came along that we could gang up on.
The Little Mermaid is a story of a fish-person who sees a prince playing with his dog and realizes that swimming is scary and she wants to be a human so that she can run around and wrestle with the Prince, just like the dog. She goes to the Sea Witch and asks to be a human, but the sea witch says she has to be debarked in return. So when she sees the Prince, she can't bark in his face to make him chase her.
I had no problem running away from that glopy, gelatinous mystery and got a head start down the beach. Before too long, I could smell the delicious smell of rot again. This time there was a Thing that looked like a tree trunk surrounded by a cloud of flies, but smelled like ocean and dead things. I tucked my tail and ran as far away from it as I could without jumping in the ocean.
Today my run wasn't just for fun, it was actually a very important assignment. You see, Mom bought a big car so that we could make it into a car-house of our very own, and we've had lots of things to do to get it ready before we leave on our running trip tomorrow. The... Continue Reading →
Then Mom explained to me how oysters are shellfish that rich people love, even though they aren’t pretty at all and look like crumpled up wads of grey paper. The rich people like to eat the oysters right out of their wadded up shells, even though Mom says that they look like snot and probably taste that way too. Oysters are also special because they make their own booger-rocks that old ladies like to stick to their heads and call it fancy.
"How can you drink out of the wrong water fountain? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Weren't you listening earlier...?! There's no apartheid at the dog beach."