On Friday afternoon Paddie trotted home, head held high, acting like a Queen. We wondered why the extra-jaunty demeanor until she got within smelling distance. EW. Paddie had rolled in something disgusting and she was ever so proud of herself. We were less than impressed. We couldn’t even let her in the house because whatever she splashed behind her ears and all around her collar stunk to high heavens. We didn’t have a choice: a trip to the beach was in order.
We arrived as the sun was setting. We were wearing shorts and sandals and carried two beach blankets. The moment we stepped on the beach we realized it was still May in Nova Scotia after a long winter. It was f-f-f-freeeeezing. Within two minutes we couldn’t feel our feet. But Paddie and Slipper didn’t care. They were off and loving life. The Beach! Sticks! Water!
Despite being up to her eyeballs in the sea, Paddie still smelled pretty bad. Dave braved the cold water to give her a quick splash and rub down. Paddie was displeased with this bath-like turn of events.
I wonder if Karen Blixen realized when she wrote, “The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea,” that anything included a stinky (but sweet) farm dog living on the North Shore of Nova Scotia!