It Was Just a Walk Along the Beach, Danger BP?

Every morning, when the sun rises, I take off with my two little dogs for a walk along the beach. It's our bonding time, not that we need any more bonding time. They are up and ready for action as soon as it is daylight.

They know my every move. There is no such thing as a private shower or a private trip to the loo. They follow me everywhere. The last time I had two girls in the toilet or the shower, I would rather not discuss here.

We are so close that we have developed our own language, which is especially useful when we go on our walks to the beach. As cute as they are, they have a bad habit of sniffing poo, feces, shit, droppings, or whatever you want to call it.

Because they are dogs, the language needs to be very simple. Anything more than a couple of syllables and they tilt their heads as if to say, "What crap are you going on about now!”

When I think of it, anything more than two syllables, and I start to get confused. You also need to be careful because dogs are very sensitive. They don’t like someone telling them off or telling them what to do. They see their walks as their time, not yours. So, they should be free to do what they want.

A bit like wives, really.

My wife was standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror. She was not happy with what she saw and said to me,

"I feel horrible; I look old, fat, and ugly. I really need you to pay me a compliment."

I replied, "Your eyesight is damn near perfect."

The doctor says I will probably walk again, but I may have a limp for life.

The same is true for mothers-in-law. Last year, as a Christmas gift, I decided to buy my mother-in-law a cemetery plot.

This year, I didn't buy her a gift. When she asked me why, I replied, "Well, you still haven't used the gift I bought you last year!"

Now, neither she nor my wife is talking to me. Not all bad, I suppose, but I digress. Back to my beach walks with my dogs.

I've taught them not to sniff all the do-do’s along the way. I did this by simplifying things to match their understanding. Bird poo is BP.

“BP, leave,” and they keep walking.

Cat shit (not that we come across much of it) is CS. “CS, no!” in a stern voice, they return to walking.

The most difficult one is DC – dog crap. It's mostly because I'm surrounded by people who won't clean up after their dogs. It’s also natural for dogs to sniff where each other has been.

I mean, dogs aren’t stupid. When they can, they go straight to the source, don’t they? If you don’t sniff someone's butt when you see them on a walk, you get a reputation for being stuck up. Thank goodness we are not dogs!

There is also nothing like the aroma of a fresh wee on a wet morning to get your mojo going.

We are still working on the DC-No! command, and I feel that it may be a lost cause.

The other day, we were out walking. My little girl Ella is quite a princess at times. When she comes across another dog, she just sits down when other dogs come up to her, as if to say:

“You can look, but you cannot sniff. No sniffy-sniff around here.”

She must have felt a bit frisky that morning because the whole walk seemed full of “BP leave, BP, leave." There were also a couple of “CS-No’s” near the long grass. You can tell they are CS because they are smaller, longer than DC, and certainly much bigger and more solid than a BP.

Unless I was mistaken and they were from a hell of a big bird or a deformed dog. Come to think of it, some big pelicans frequent the beach we go to, so I might have been mistaken.

They were responding well. Even Ella, in her heightened sexual phase, was being good. As a reward, they are let off the leash to run around and play chase when we get to the beach.

We were happily walking along the beach when I turned around after losing focus for a few minutes. I was distracted by a stunning lady with a poodle coming my way. Then, I noticed Ella wriggling like a snake in the seaweed.

I didn’t have a command for not rolling in the seaweed, so it was “Ella, stop that," which she eventually did.

When I caught up to her, she had this green, brown slime all over her head and back.

Like an idiot, I had to touch it to see what it was. It was way worse than any BP, DC, or even CS.

It smelled like the remains of a dead alien that had drowned at sea. She looked very happy with herself as if she had just been sprayed with doggy Channel No. 5. Now I had it all over my hands.

Then I heard this voice behind me: “Hi, I’m Angel, and this is my dog, Violet. "What adorable puppies you have!” she said, giving Ella a big pat without realizing it until too late. She had the same reaction I had just had.

We still don’t have a command for “No, DA (dead alien).” Whenever I see Angel, she crosses the road or takes off in the opposite direction.

I can’t imagine why!

Till next time,

Calvin

[Author's note: Submitted for the Absurdist Awakening Challenge: