I know what you're gonna say: "You've already told us about your walk around Lawlor's Island".
But when I say I "a walk around Lawlor's Island", I don't mean a walk upon Lawlor's Island, I mean a gosh darn walk all the way around the Island.
|The view from Lawlor's looking back toward Woodside and the oil storage tanks.|
Of course I wasn't alone on this silly undertaking: I had Trey with me. I've stopped taking a ball to throw for him, after our last visit where he ran into the woods with a ball, and came back with a rubber boot ! (Hey ! That was a $6 ball you stoooopid dog !)
It didn't take Trey long to find something for me to throw.
On this trip he brought me a running shoe, a sandal, a Croc garden shoe, a rubber boot, a diver's rubber hat, a stick and a six foot tree !
Some things are more throwable than others.
|Trey and the tree he wanted me to throw for him. He carried this damn thing for ages.|
|It wasn't long before the boot was shredded.|
|Cooling off on damp sea weed.|
|A thong, or do you call them "flip flops" ?|
His pièce de résitance was glomming onto a massive truck tire that was embedded in the sand. To his profound shock and displeasure, I was unable to pick it up and chuck it into the water for him.
The walk was a mite longer than I expected.
Each time I'd walk around a point, I'd expect to see the end of the island. Instead I would be presented with yet another cove.
Finally I climbed a hill to see where I was and if I'd be able to cross from one side of the island to the other..
And found that the answer was, "no" as it was too overgrown, and covered in deadfall to cross easily.
But oh, it was pretty.
|Looking toward McNab's Island and the far side of Halifax Harbour.|
|A lobster boat, and Devil's Island can barely seen in the distance.|
So what part of this walk was "disasterous" you ask ?
Well, it wan't that it was over four hours of walking over rough and rocky ground on a very hot day.
And it wasn't that my kayak had been carried into the harbour by the rising tide, as this time I had secured it to the shore.
It was something else.
Something that I didn't realize until Trey and I were most of the way around the island. Something that happened after we'd made it 'round the point and back down to the shore where I blithely threw a stick into the water for Trey.
|The "something that happened", happened in this cove.|
And I didn't know it had happened until Trey, Trey my indomitable, over-the-top dog, lay down on the sand and refused to get up.
And still I didn't get it.
I thought he was just tired and tried to cajole him into following me down the shore. After all, it was still a 1/2 km walk to the kayak.
He refused to follow me.
Trey never refuses to follow me.
I walked on, calling back to him, and calling his bluff.
He refused to get up and follow me.
I walked back, knelt down and checked his feet.
They were shredded ! Every one of his paws was ripped. Some pads had flaps of skin just hanging off, while on others fresh raw skin was all there was.
I realized too late that in that final cove, I had been heaving his stick into water where just below the surface the rocks were covered in razor sharp Barnacles ! What an idiot I am ! I had no frikkin' clue and of course, Trey refused to listen to his body until it was too late.
|Photo after we got home and cleaned his poor paws.|
Alone and worried what Trey would do left on his own, I hustled down the shore, got the kayak and paddled back to where I'd left him lying bewildered by my abandonment. It was over half an hour before I got back to him. He had moved a mere 50 feet down the shore in a vain attempt to follow me and was just standing there mournfully.
Oh it was a miserable paddle back to the mainland with a sodden, whimpering dog hunkered down down on my lap.
Back home his feet were cleaned and Trey's enforced period of quiet began so his paws could heal.
That was almost three weeks ago now and his feet are a good as new, but what an awful way to learn a lesson.
It seems that Trey and I are destined to always learn things the hard way.