Sunday, October 27, 2013

Cold Balls In The Surf

Harley dog is smitten. He thinks the beach is a new store to shop for dog toys.

He hates getting wet, doesn't like to swim unless it's 100F degrees, both water and air.

Yesterday we woke up to 40F degree weather. Harley wore a sweater and a vest while I about froze in 2 shirts, a jacket and only one pair of long pants. Yep it was c-c-c-cold.

We headed for the beach during our morning walk in search of sunshine but it was cloudy. The tide was rolling in, we were walking on a narrow strip of sand. Harley was shaking and shivering, my teeth were chattering. The lack of sun wasn't warming us up. I was going to turn around to go home for more clothes. (Home is where we park it! It being the little old motorhome.)

But floating in the surf of the great expanse of the Atlantic Ocean was a tennis ball. Despite the near frigid temperatures Harley bounced on his flexi-leash into the ocean to rescue the toy.


I had to walk home carrying Harley, soaking wet, both of us shaking and shivering, my teeth chattering, while Harley had his tiny mouth proudly stuffed with one rescued tennis ball. What a sight we must have made.

Yepper, we provide entertainment for the campground.

So today, it was 45F degrees in the morning when I donned 2 pair of pants, a shirt and a huge sweatshirt that hangs down to my thighs. It's so big and warm, I could stuff several shirts under it if need be. I found it off season for $3 in a Big Lots store. I can even pull the sleeves down over my hands. The tight collar rides up to my chin. The oversized shirt is screaming red. At a distance with the huge billowy sweatshirt and tight leggings, I look like a giant red lollipop.

Harley had on a clean dry sweater with a vest over it. This time we walked to the beach where the brilliant sunshine made me feel so foolish for wearing so much. Harley finally stopped shaking when the sun hit him.

We walked down the beach with Harley darting back and forth on his long flexi-leash, thrilled to be dancing in the sand. Suddenly he plops a different ball at my feet.

Ball number two!  Apparently it was in the sand. I looked around to see a man setting up beach chairs. I asked him if this was his ball, he laughed at Harley's tiny mouth holding this huge ball then said "No. Not my ball. Looks like the doggy has claimed it now!"

This one is the size of a tennis ball but soft like a hacky sack.

Harley began tossing the ball around, then chasing it. His flexi-leash let him go about 16 feet in any direction, so he was pretty thrilled at his new game.

When he grew tired of playing by himself, he plopped the soft ball back at my feet. I began kicking it as far as I could but not far enough he couldn't race after it on his flexi-leash. In this manner we played a soccer game while traversing the beach.

Laughter!  It's great medicine.

One tired doggy trying to stay warm. 


  1. Don't you love it how easily a dog can be entertained!

  2. The dog is amazed at how easily he can entertain me!


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