Canine Bliss

I had drafted something about what a relief it was that was Labor Day had come and gone, marking the end of this long, feverish, and ultimately devastating slog of a summer, in which I listed all the reasons this has been a horrible seaon. But Molly's post inspired me to put something more positive out there, so I'm going to write about a scene of out-and-out joy I witnessed this weekend. Out in the Hamptons, dogs aren't allowed on 2 Mile Hollow Beach after 9 AM. But before that hour, it is canine heaven. Dogs of all shapes and sizes race around in packs, chasing balls and sticks, jumping and twisting into the air, even plunging into the surf and riding the waves. Every other minute or so, another one comes racing down the beach from the entrance in the dunes, the physical embodiment of bliss. It is impossible to feel grumpy or cynical watching those beautiful animals, and watching them this Sunday reminded me that there was much to look forward to. Someone recently told me that pets shouldn't have people names, because they are not people. True, they are not people--but sometimes they are just so much better.

I didn't really try to hang out with any of the dogs on the beach, as the owners seemed pretty protective. But I did get to spend some time with Penny, who is one of my favorite dogs ever. I'll tell you more about her later. (Photo of Penny and me by Neilson Abeel.)