Snaggle-Toothed Attack Corgis

I've been taking Bella to Its beach frequently. Saturday morning I drove there without PK and her dogs. There is a whole group of people drinking coffee and eating donuts. Oh, and dogs. More dogs that I can count. I'd driven down the hill early to get a cup of coffee. My cell phone was dead so I couldn't contact anyone to meet me or make any arrangements for anything via phone communication. Hello 911? Danger? Are there any pay phones anywhere? Oh, well. Doesn't much matter. I got my coffee, thought about driving back home, then made a quick turnaround at Blue Ball park to head back toward the beach. The visit was part of a mellow morning with all of the dogs, the dog-loving people. It was nice to get out there.

But before Saturday, on Thursday afternoon, both PK and I took all three dogs to the beach and I took some photos. I was having a good time and the dogs really just get out there in that sand, and go nuts, running, playing, getting sandy and filling my car up with sand.

While at the beach on Thursday, a mom and her young daughter came walking around the cove, and Bella, of course, ran up to the girl because Bella loves 5 year olds. Seriously, I can tell your age by whether Bella likes you or not. So the 5 year old girl starts immediately screaming. Bella is sort of jumping around being a corgi though not jumping on the girl. The mom is consoling her daughter because Bella is a trained attack corgi and these folks are in fear for their lives. I tell them that Bella won't hurt them. But they can't hear me over the screaming and crying. The 5 year old is still letting out blood curdling screams (practicing for her part in the local haunted house). The mom was focused, as she should be, on her child. I was focused on my attack corgi and then I said "Why did you bring your child to a dog beach?" (I was having difficulty with the connection there). I walked away from them leading my vicious, blood sucking, snarling, snaggle-toothed attack corgi by my side. Later I thought about how I needed to be compassionate toward this screaming child and her befuddled mom with the waves and the sand and the wind and all the attack dogs at the beach though it was far too late for compassion (in person) at that point. There is always a next time.

On the drive home, we ran into someone who was hauling a huge modular (read trailer) home. The home was blocking the entire road so my neighbors and I all had a quick klatch in the weeds while from the back seat of the vertical hotrod, vicious Bella sat ready to pounce if someone made a move.