Late September, Sandgate, Australia.
A warm, sunny Saturday morning, and the dogs have brought their humans to the seaside.
With a languid incoming tide lapping at the seawall, the walkway/cycle path that hugs the rim of the Bay from Shorncliffe to Scarborough is already well populated with cyclists, skateboarders, rollerbladers, perambulating families and couples, the occasional wretched loner walking his or her own path.
And there are the dogs. Dogs of all sizes, shapes, temperaments and religious persuasions, all in a state of high excitement. So many things to do, see, bark at, chase and roll in. Their humans sip their lattes and struggle stoically to keep up. Anyway, it’s exercise.
We wretched loners slump grimly on, attempting indifference, inwardly acknowledging our sad and undeniable doglessness.
~ And that’s all the Goat wrote