Post
by rstevenson » Wed Sep 26, 2012 6:58 pm
Many years ago, when I was still wooing my intended and therefore had to display chivalry, we two were walking along the shoreline in northern New Brunswick with their family dog, a German Shephard named Lady. (There is no credible theory as to how she got her name. Certainly it had nothing to do with lady-like behaviour.) As we approached a spot where we usually had to jump a few feet down off a rock outcrop to a stony beach, Lady led the way straight out into a pile of sea foam which had been funneled in there by the rocks, to a depth of about 5 feet (152.4 cm.)
We stood for a few moments laughing at the hump of foam moving around barking, thinking Lady would work her way out of it. But no, she started to head towards the water, so chivalry in hand I jumped in after her and waded out to where I could reach down to pick her up. Picture me almost neck deep in foam at that point. Picture me reaching down to pick up a dog. Picture my long-haired bearded visage with sea foam decoration.
When we returned home, Lady, me and my formerly best coat all got hosed down, which more or less cleaned us up. Lady thought it was a fine afternoon walk gone slightly awry. My future wife thought it was even funnier when I followed Lady into the foam. I maintained a dignified silence through dinner as the tale was retold, though I recall that the family accorded Lady and I more than the usual amount of elbow room. Sea foam smells.
Rob
there are fire tornados, I didn't know that! I experienced only dust whirlwinds when I was in Turkey. 
? Is that why you love doghnuts?!
