Tuesday, April 21, 2009

My Cold Shoulder and The Little Beggar

We are at the beach on Jekyll Island. Without the dogs.

It's been a long time since we headed out for a day of fun without them.

But we do. And I feel like a bum. Leaving them behind in the motor home (with the air on, of course). When they love the beach so much.

But being at the beach with the dogs is no day at the beach for us.
They don't like to lay in the sand and sunbathe, or nap, or read a
good book. They don't sit and stare at the horizon, just in case a
dolphin leaps into the air or a whale blows his spout. A boat might
unfurl its sails right before our eyes. But the dogs don't care.

They want to chase the birds, jump the waves, run, run, run, play with
people, play with other dogs, and inevitably nature calls and then we
walk around carrying the goody bag until we leave the beach.

That's what we did yesterday.

Today, we leave them behind. And we're sitting on the beach,
sunbathing, staring at the horizon. Just in case.

Dozens of little birds skitter about a few yards away from us (if the boys
were here, these birds wouldn't be.)

We watch them and enjoy their company. There are two larger birds
among these biddy ones. One, who wears a black hood making his eyes
really pop, trots our way. And trots and trots. He stops barely 10
feet away. (Again, not if the boys were here).

He stares at us with those pop eyes. And stares. I know what he wants.
My sandwich.

Allen and I are eating PB&J at the beach and this little guy wants
in on the action. How cute. But we don't feed birds at the beach. They
need to fish for their food, so they don't starve when the tourists go

That's what I say to this little bird.

Still, as I keep nibbling ,  he walks closer. Hmmm. Nibble nibble. Walk walk.  He doesn't believe I'm serious. 
As my sandwich gets smaller, he draws nearer.

He's only about five feet away now and it's breaking my heart. I KNOW
he won't starve, and it's just a little peanut butter. If I drop a
piece in the wind, I think to myself, it will blow over his way and he won't
know I gave in to his begging.

NO! I STAND MY GROUND. I WILL NOT be a part of this bird's death by


I close my eyes to the seaside mooch  and gulp the remaining two bites
of my sandwich in one. The  little bird knows it's over and
 flies away. Toward another family eating their lunch at
the beach.

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