I sat and enjoyed my food. It was delicious. But I could tell there was a slight increase in the crunchiness due to the sandy terrain. I didn’t mind. It was good food. And I could tell for sure that Izzy didn’t mind in the least. I’m pretty sure I saw him licking the sand earlier, but he knows better now.
Izzy continued licking his nose and whiskers, probably still trying to get the gritty stuff out from between his teeth. Honestly, I’m wondering about this funny sandy stuff too. It’s sticking to me like leash or something. I’ve got sand in between my paws, all over my tail, my whiskers feel funny, and my ears are a little heavy laden.
No time to dwell on that right now since I’ve got to focus on snacking up every crumb I can find. Luckily, the blanket we’re on has kept them all neatly organized in a pile close to me, you know, so there’s no confusion as to who’s crumbs they are.
The old man dropped some more of his sandwich as he munched and made conversation with Debbie. Of course, these crumbs belonged to me, and Debbie’s crumbs were all Izzy’s. And just so you know, my friend is a lot messier than Izzy’s friend, which means that I get a slightly bigger slice when hanging out with my pal. You have to know by now that the old man is always reliable that way.
“This isn’t fair,” Izzy ruffed as he eyed my vast crumb pile that was continually building up.
“Of course it is,” I woofed back between licks. “I’m a lot smaller, so I need more food…obviously.”
Izzy contemplated that for a while. I could see him turning the concept over and over in the space tucked between his ears. He scratched and looked around before coming to a conclusion.
“Naw, that doesn’t sound right to me,” my buddy ruffed and proceeded to scratch some more sand out of his long fluffy fur.
Interestingly enough, all that scratching ended up dishing out a whole lot of sand right on top of…you guessed it…the food. A nice plate of pie too. I looked up at the old man, then at Debbie. Izzy continued to scratch, so I didn’t bother seeing if he saw. This was mainly because I was already calling dibs.
The proceeding commotion was as predicted. There were commands and cries to stop. Izzy just made a face in wonder as he scratched out more sand onto the food stuffs. Most everything was covered…but not the pie. The pie was mine now, and I could already taste it.
“What? What is it?” Izzy barked after he’d calmed his itchies.
Debbie and the old man debated over something I couldn’t quite make out, but the end result was exactly what I’d predicted. The pie must be tossed out. There was just way too much sand and bits of fur for our peoples to find flavorful, but I wasn’t so picky.
“To me!” I barked when the pie plate was lifted and ready to be tossed.
But the old man hearkened not to my claim. And Izzy was still puzzled over the whole matter. And Debbie, I’ll tell you what, she can throw. I’ve run far to fetch, but that pie flew like a Frisbee coasting in the wind.
I wasted no time starting the race. Izzy caught on quick enough and was ready to pass me. We were collar to collar, slowed only by the sandy terrain which sucked our paws down deep. It was a good race, but we would have no trophy at the finish line.
You see, we were dragging too long in the sand, and those pesky birds had already spotted the pie from afar off and swooped in to catch the victory for themselves. All of them. Lots of them. Sort of scary actually.
But that did make me wonder…I know how to roll over, catch, shake, sneak, eat, and speak seven dog languages including Great Dane, but is there anyone that can teach a dog to fly?
Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories. Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky, Nixi and Dante give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts. Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own adventures.