another time, down at the bay...

(and this one is a dog story too)

The piers at the bay were changeable. Most of the time, there was one built out front of the bay house, but storms would come and wash them away, even if the houses weren't damaged. The nature of something built of wood on the water is that it eventually falls apart, if not taken well care of. Still, if we didn't have one, one of the neighbors would, and the use agreements seemed to be friendly, and generally reciprocal... we could use theirs, and they would be able to use ours, depending on the weather, and the finances, and the building, etc.

It is nice to be able to walk out over the water on a pier. You can fish off a pier. You can hang crabtraps off one, too. You get to listen to the waves, and enjoy the breeze off the water. Sit at the end of one and dangle your bare feet off, trying to kick the waves as they roll by. You have something interesting to watch, but not too engrossing. I love walking on a pier. At the bay we would find some reason or excuse to walk out there at least once a day.

Our dog at this particular time was a miniature schnauzer. He was a scruffy character who was named Pepper, and he knew his place in the family. It was right above Carl, who is the youngest. If Carl was allowed to do something, then Pepper "knew" he was allowed to do it. If Carl did something that he wasn't supposed to, Pepper went and "told" on him. I could tell Pepper what to do (heck, I told everyone what to do), John could sometimes, but Carl could not.

This fine day, we went walking on the pier, Mom, John, Carl, and I, and of course, Pepper followed Mom as much as he was allowed. The trip down the pier was uneventful, but when we turned around to walk back, Pepper backed up, and off the pier! The water was deep for him, but it wasn't too far to shore. The waves were not too high. We coaxed Pepper to shore, but he was a very unhappy dog. He coughed up salt water and spat and glared at all of us. Especially Mom. Is that the end of the story? Well, it would be pretty lame if it was.

For the rest of that trip, sometime during the day, Pepper would look at Mom, and start coughing. We all knew he felt like she had pushed him off that pier and into the water. It was HER fault, and he wanted her to remember it. From that time on, every now and then, he would get that same look in his eye, and start coughing - especially if he was getting fussed at. Hack, Cough. "Don't start on me," he seemed to say. "Remember when you threw me into that water!"