Happy Holidays to the whole dog pack! Where ever you are and whether I’ve had the pleasure to smell you or not.
Here’s a story, mostly in photos, of how my humans took me to the beach and made me wear silly antlers.
First Elise started in the grassy area near my home. She said “Come on Ranger, look happy.” Right! Read my face my two-legged friend! Jeeezus, get these darn “Antlers of Shame” off me. Bah Humbug!
Later we went to the beach, Aunt Linda and another human came too. Aunt Linda is a good photographer and her photos we’ll mark, because I like to mark things, “photo credit: LCH.” She also titled this story “Holiday on Sand,” clever I thought. I love it when she unleashes her creativity.
This beach is very popular with my humans. They stare out into the ocean for hours and walk, looking for mysterious inedible things in the surf. I come here to run, and look for “ball dogs” to run after, I mean “herd,” and sample bits of drift wood. I also enjoy finding dead seals and pieces of chicken bone left at fire pits.
My favorite beach is up the coast a little further, Dead Whale Beach. They blew up a whale there years ago and chunks of it were tossed everywhere. There are still embedded carcass bits in the sand, like fine cheese strewn everywhere, absolutely wonderful place! But, I digress…
Here’s what the beach looks like when we’re just walking along, greeting my friends. Everyone is my friend, so it takes a while.
I can’t figure out why they keep putting these stupid antlers on my head? Do you want me to identify with the livestock? Disguise myself for a big reindeer hunt? Or just laugh at me? Maybe it’s for a big movie role “Rudolph, the Real Story.” Who was Rudolph? What motivated him? I’m just not feeling the character.
OMG, not again. Well, here it is: the beauty shot.
Yes, so much better without the antlers. I had tried pitching them in the ocean. I had Yellow Puppy sit on them. We buried them in the sand. But they kept coming back and getting placed on my head. I finally just flung them dramatically to the ground.
Then they finally gave up and let me alone for awhile and I found something interesting, very interesting, to anoint myself with.
1. Merry Christmas to me. I think something died here!
2. Uh oh. I’ve been spotted.
3. @*&%!, they’ve come to ruin my fun. Probably going to want to bathe me too. Crap. And I finally got my stink just right. Humans just don’t get it.
For the New Year I’d like to wish you all the best. I hope you remember where you buried your bones, that you remember to smell EVERYTHING, and that no one puts the antlers of shame on you.
“In 2012: aim high, why not?
(and I’m not just talking about the fire hydrant!)”