Boat Dog, a Quest, and an Involuntary Winter Bath
Well, I can’t help but suppose ‘twas bound to happen. Our ever-so-nimble Boat Dog involuntarily took a saltwater bath today.
Last night rolled in cold and stormy, with the boat rocking like a hobby horse at the pier and the temperature dropping uncomfortably low. This morning dawned frosty, with the boat discombobulated in her slip because of the night’s antics: she was sitting quite far from the dock, having strained at her dock lines.
Poor Boat Dog.
Sometime not too long after noon, we hustled up the dock for a mid-day bathroom break. The sun sat hidden somewhere in the heavens, playing coy and leaving us, poor terrestrial creatures that we are, to shiver. Boat Dog did his thing, and we galloped back to the boat (actually galloped; or Boat Dog did—the little fellow shook a leg and made me break into a jog).
At the slip, our gallant hero stopped. His waterborne home was sitting farther away than usual, and I could see his doggy mind calculating the “leapability” of the gap between pier and vessel. He gathered his paws ... and sprang ... and missed. Aw, snap. Before I realized what had happened, Boat Dog had hit the water and begun dog paddling. I grabbed him up by his leash and harness, and received the fallout from one of those mighty wet-dog shakes.
I also received a really dirty look.
But not as dirty as the look I got when I heaped insult upon the injury by turning the hose on our dear hero. You see, marinas contain all sorts of unsavory muck: film on the water from drips of fuel, gray water, trash, “unspeakable” waste. So I had to scrub off our knight in furry armor before releasing him to once again try his paw at this quest to regain the boat.
Second time around, our hero made it. Handily. I had to race him to the companionway entrance to the cabin and stop him in all his glorious wetness before he clambered inside and onto the settee.
Toweling off first, buddy.
Toweling off first.
Having accomplished his quest, having made it to the grass and back by way of the seas in which there be monsters, our hero now rests. Satisfied.