It all looked so promising on Saturday morning when Gail loaded me into the car and drove the short distance down to the mouth of Aberdeen harbour. We parked in the usual place and I was keenly anticipating a lively romp on the city beach.
But, I'm sorry to report, things went downhill from then on. (Metaphorically, that is. One can't actually go down hill when standing right beside the harbour.)
First, we walked a very short distance to our friends M and J's car. M is usually such a reliable source of treats designed for big dogs, but she had inexplicably failed to bring any on this occasion.
Then Gail walked me back to our car and put me in the boot. She moved the vehicle to a shady spot, opened the windows a little and topped up my water bowl.
You'll have guessed what this meant.
In truth I don't mind being left a while in the car. It's a comfy environment - a good place for a snooze, or one can look out the window and watch the passers by. But gosh Gail was gone for a long time.
I waited patiently, and just as I was beginning to wonder if she would ever return, I heard the click of the car door being opened remotely. Then there was Gail, smelling rather fishy. (Literally, not metaphorically, this time).
So it seems she'd been with M, J and their friend K, enjoying a meal at the 'Silver Darling', a renowned Aberdeen restaurant overlooking the harbour and the beach. They were celebrating M's birthday and M and J's 56th wedding anniversary. Apparently the food had been splendid, especially the seafood platter, although one has to ask, can a restaurant that doesn't allow dogs inside really be all that great?
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Finally it was time for the beach, and more disappointment to come.
Most times of year I get to race around on the sands to my little heart's content. But on Saturday Gail decreed I must be kept on my lead and we'd just walk along the promenade. How I would have loved to go down and share some of the picnic food being consumed by the beachgoers, and assist the young children digging sandcastles.
Later at home, Gail showed me some holiday photos from an old family album. It seems she and her brother enjoyed playing on the beach too, when they were children.
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| Gail with her father and brother, Isle of Wight, summer 1966 |
