Beach Babies

The yellow-sailed windsurfer to the right of the ball gives a sense of scale.

It was all the way up to plus four (39°F) today, so E.g. and I took the dogs to Cherry Beach.

We hadn’t been there since the Autumn. I had been afraid that Cai would plunge right into the frigid water and get sick. We needn’t have worried, however; the lake was solid ice between Cherry Beach and the Leslie Street Spit.

There were, in fact, three young men out there parasurfing. We’ve watched people do this before, skipping along the waves harnessed to a banana-peel-shaped parachute, but we’d never considered that this could be a winter sport. The adventurers were criss-crossing the ice at a tremendous pace.

Not only was there that entertainment, but the sun was actually shining! It took us a moment to remember the name of it. “What’s that thing in the sky? It’s too early for the street lights to be on.”

We walked around the snow-covered beach three times, about 15 minutes per round. Cai and Fergus rushed here and there, meeting other dogs of various sorts, including a Vizsla named Dexter. E.g. asked me about the lyrics to an old camp song, “Kumula, kumula, kumula vizsla”. I said I didn’t know.

On the final round, we made the mistake of telling the boys that we were now heading for the car. That’s when Fergus, chaser of all things moving, finally noticed the parasurfers. Off he went like a dart.

Cai wasn’t too sure what to do. He’s been repeatedly told off for intercepting Fergus’s fun, and besides, the pup was already fifteen lengths ahead of him. He looked at us, he looked at Fergus’s retreating tail, he whined a little.

Then the solution came to us. We called each of our furchildren by name, in the nicest, loudest sing-song voice possible, once. Then we ran in the opposite direction, as hard as we could go, with Cai at our heels.

Fergus never made it onto the ice. He screeched to a halt in front of me, his whole body quivering with pride at having caught me so quickly.

Wet Above, Wet Below

Hello, blogfriends! Here are a few photos from yesterday. It was raining, and the dogs were bored, so E.g. and I decided that if everyone was going to be wet anyway, we might as well take them to the beach. (Interestingly enough, unlike the trip to a dog park commemorated by a blurp photo, neither Cai nor Fergus made any post-beach regurgitations. )

The Longtailed Ducks, returning from up north, are back in Toronto for the winter.

This thing was just left hanging, presumably all weekend. Do you ever feel like that?

Fergus and Cai in the backseat, with a blanket over them both. They snoozed while E.g. popped in for some groceries.

The Longtails again. I was really pleased with this photo. Oh, and, yes, the horizon of Lake Ontario isn’t level… Oops… well, whatever.

Liberty and Walkies for All

My sonny boy got here safe and sound yesterday morning at 06 00, and we put him to work almost immediately. After helping schlep around stuff at the market, he helped schlep stuff over to Jack’s Mom’s place and schlep a table from the basement into her apartment. He went out after lunch for a few hours, wandering around downtown and doing a little clothes shopping. Last night he went to bed at the unheard-of hour of nine, although the fact that he only slept an hour on the night bus from Montreal renders this last fact a little less astonishing.

Anywho, today was a better day for everyone, I think. The whole family headed down to Cherry Beach first thing, and the dogs played and roamed to their hearts’ content. Then we piled into the car, and E.g. drove Sonny Boy and me to Queen Street East, known locally as either The Beaches or The Beach.

After a nice brunch, Sonny Boy and I strolled down to the boardwalk along the beach, where we chatted and watched a bit of a beach volleyball tournament until Sonny Boy felt “digested” enough to go swimming. I sat on a bench in the shade, guarding Sonny Boy’s stuff and reading James Thurber stories for about an hour and a half. It was a beautiful, warm day, gorgeous really for the last day of August.

When he was done swimming, Sonny Boy and I started walking west. At the bridge over Queen Street, we descended the steps and went along the Don Valley trail until the steps up into Riverdale Park, and reached the apartment at 4 pm. Then he and I made supper: a salad of ripe tomatoes, cucumber chunks, goats-milk brie, and basil leaves; a medley of fried mushrooms, purple and red peppers, onion, and garlic; and fried steak.

Now it’s twenty to 8 in the evening, Sonny Boy and E.g. have picked “Rush Hour 3″ from Blockbusters, I’ve taken the dogs on their potty break, and everyone’s about to settle down to a comedy film — as soon as I press “Publish”.

Happy Labour Day!

(Wordless Wednesday) A Field Guide to Dog Toy Tracks

The Pocaiden Adventure

Original photos by E.g. were uncropped or shopped or anythinged by Lavenderbay. Go here for six niceified photos.

We finally got down to Toronto’s off-leash doggie beach this morning. It was Fergus’s first time at a beach (he was too ill to play in the water at Bon Echo) . I think Fergus had a lot of fun, but on the sand more than in the water. His experience went something like this…

“Fergus, c’mon in the lake! I’ll show you what to do.

You swim out…

…you swim in…

…and you hang sixteen. Kowabunga!

Now you try it.”

“Okay, I’m comin’ in!

I’m…comin’…

I’m…

Aw, nuts! I’ll never live it down otherwise.”

The chase is on.

“Wait, Cai, I just realized something: I’m not having any fun.”

Shakin’ all over.

“Just call me a landlubber.”