Sometimes happiness is a walk on the beach and a puppy. That's exactly what happened yesterday. I spent part of the afternoon walking on the beach with a good friend. This walk followed an exceptionally long and fulfilling bout of Mortal Kombat vs. DC on her family's Xbox console. I now want to own an Xbox (up yours Wii!), but that's another story.
I had never been to the beach during the winter. It felt like an entirely new, alien landscape. The play of light off of the snow made the water seem more blue. There were tons more shells on the shore since there weren't any people collecting them as happens when it's warmer out. The snow crunched like the top of creme brule when you stepped on it. It was beautiful. The stroll was made all the more enjoyable when a 12 week old border collie appeared, trotting between us. She began to leap, joyfully, when she came upon us. We, naturally, began to pet her, only to hear the most extraordinary Scottish accent shout, “Don' letter jomp on yuh! Push 'er doun!” (Trans: Don't let her jump on you. Push her down.)
Turns out, he was really a nice architect who lived in the area and worked out of his house. Once we pushed her down, the dog, (Kayle was her name), pranced inquisitively at our side, looking up at us curiously from time to time and inspecting shells and sea weed along the way. That's when we learned she was 12 months old; terribly intelligent for her age. She was born of working stock in Vermont who still herd sheep.
She'll probably be a hard working dog like her parents.
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