The happy ramblings of a sharp-witted canine scamp.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006


Where, oh where have the giant sand dogs gone?



Wow, I'm tired. I've been sleeping for days, but I just can't seem to wake up. Must be the crazy weekend I had: it was like a dream. At first, I was at my grandparents' beach house, running around on the beach and the porch and jumping on everyone's laps. At night, I don't sleep so well there: I need to keep my ear to the ground. So many strange noises (Mom calls them fireworks, but they sound like pop pop pops to me).
Anyway, I wake up on Sunday and Mom and I go for a walk on the beach. I run down the path, through the sea grass and try to take off af
ter a jogger, who really, really wanted me to jump up and lick her! (Mm is just shaking her head, but what does she know!?). Suddenly, two huge sand dogs come pounding along the hard sand in front of me--I take off after them, with my Mom dragging along in tow. Apparently, she didn't enjoy that part, but I managed to get quite a ways down the beach before Mom stopped my pursuit of the crazed mammoth beasts [Editor's note: The sand behemoths are known to the rest of us as horses...kind of hard to tell in this picture though.


Once Mom forced me to let the sand dogs run off, we found a little puppy guy to play with. He was just a young little Yorkie named...wait for it..."Pony"! As we were talking the sand beast dogs came back, but were moving so fast that we had no chance to catch them. "Pony" was a little shaken, but I assured her that sand dogs weren't dangerous (I was trying to be brave for the little fella).

I had fun the rest of the time at the beach too, but Mom got worried because I didn't eat anything. She knows how much I hate the car ride back and forth to the beach! Whay would she think I would eat before getting back in the car????

Anyway, Mom was apparently so worried about me that she decided to take a detour on the way home and stop at a pet festival in Amesbury. it was called PawsforPeace and boy was it weird!

On the way in, we had to wait in line and Mom had to sign a special form that said she wouldn't get too mad if she got bit by a mangy mutt inside or something like that. Mom said the form meant I had to be extra good and stay on leash, but I don't understand what kind of pet festival would force good dogs like me (Insert harp and halo here!) to stay on leash with so many good smells around!


And no big fella,
by good smells,
I didn't mean me!



But there was lots to do at the Festival: There were dogs to sniff and stare at, games to play, water to drink, kids to jump on, people to avoid...Oh, and there were also a bunch of foreign police dogs, that apparently have been recruited to keep order at pet festivals in this part of the world. i didn't understand a word any of them said, but their posture was amazing. Mom called them Police Dogs. I'm pretty sure they were German....

Oh and there was shopping at this festival too...and with shopping comes....C'mon now, I know you know what! That's right: Sample treats! I liked the baked apple treat best. Mmmm.

By the time we got to heading back, it was starting to get dark and stormy looking, so, for my Mom's sake, I insisted that we leave right away--So she wouldn't get wet.

[Editor's note: Actually, the band started to play and Banba's fear of horns and drums impelled her to run like a, dare I say it, scaredy cat, off the festival grounds!]

MOM! This my blog. Stay away from the computer when I'm on it...You're ruining my life!

Good grief.

















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