Weekend before last, on Friday afternoon, this monstrous, huge, scary ball appeared out of nowhere on the beach, in front of the White Sands Motel. I made sure to keep as much ground between me and it as possible. Beagle Man didn’t seem upset by the thing; he was
focused on the lights being strung, and said, “I bet they’re setting up for a wedding.” One of his friends disagreed, saying, “I really don’t think they’d have a giant skull for a wedding.” For most of the weekend Beagle Man ignored this humongous “skull” . . . until late Sunday afternoon, when, for some reason, he put me on my leash and literally dragged me over to it. This is something he never does, but for some
reason he’d made up his mind that me and the skull would make a great photo op. And you know how he can be when he makes up his mind. He even bribed me with treats. Back home in Connecticut, I had bad dreams about the skull every night, and was hoping against hope it wouldn’t be on the beach when we came out here to Amagansett again. So this past weekend, the first thing I did on the beach was check for you-know-what. And it was gone! Phew! Thank God! Then Beagle Man and I went for an evening stroll down the road . . . and now look where the thing is: in front of the motel, up on a rise, high as the sky! It’s terrifying! Worse: That’s the direction Beagle Man almost always takes me for a walk. Hey, I don’t care how much I need to poop . . . I am not going there! Oh, and even though this is technically my post, Beagle Man wrote the headline. He says it’s a “literary allusion.” I have no idea what he’s talking about.
Beagle Man and Ricky always have a lot to say, so I’ll just pipe up in The Duck Dog Speaks whenever I can.
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