skip to main |
skip to sidebar
When Professor McLovin is outside he is usually quite excited. Some might say he becomes overstimulated by everything that's going around him and all those tempting options presented to him. On hikes he'll go crashing through the woods, blazing his own personal trail. In parks he'll run around among various landmarks, constantly checking out new things to play with.
But on rocky beaches he never quite reaches that top gear. McLovin takes his sweet time to wander around the intertidal zone, exploring around rocks, checking out the water's edge, wistfully gazing at ducks just out of reach, all the while carefully avoiding those scary tidal pools. He doesn't tear around the beach like he does when he's in other outdoor environments--he has discovered that not everything should be glossed over as quickly as possible and that some things deserve a second look.
We recently returned from a week-long vacation to our family's cabin on Hornby Island. The cabin is located directly on the beach which lends itself particularly well to certain activities of which the Professor is quite fond: aimless exploring, chasing birds and other small animals, fetching rocks out of the ocean, and just general romping about. In fact, it is a veritable Dog Heaven.
This doesn't mean McLovin won't for additional ways to make his visit more enjoyable. You might think he'd be content lazing about on the rocks with all of his whims satisfied for the duration of his stay. But he will definitely take advantage of a more comfortable resting place when given the opportunity, especially when it's unwittingly provided by one of his companions (see picture). I suppose one can always find ways to improve one's lot in life, even under seemingly ideal situations.
As detailed previously in this blog, Professor McLovin howls when he hears sirens in the distance. Sometimes, however, he is so overcome by his need to join in that he completely forgets about his current situation and breaks out into song regardless of what he might doing. This includes times when there is something already in his mouth.This afternoon we were at the park--the Professor just made another one of his Willie Mays catches look routine--when an ambulance drives by. Oscar, of course, feels the need to join the chorus so he puts his head back and lets loose with a howl. What comes out is not his typical mournful cry: rather, he emits garbled sounds of nonsense that sound more like a muted trumpet played underneath an elevated train. The Professor doesn't seem to notice or care that his call to his brethren was not as sonorous as usual but what's important is that he gave his best effort to sing along and didn't waste time dropping his ball in order to do so.