October 4th 2023, Delftse Hout, 1.5km, water temperature: 18C (?)
It’s October, which means the beach is no longer off limits to dogs. Whether they are allowed off-leash or not I can’t remember. There’s barely a leash in sight, so my guess is that the general consensus is that they are. More likely, no one really cares.
It takes a bit for my brain to effectively communicate to my body that it doesn’t need to be on full dog alert, because Rusty is safely snoozing at home.
Now a little more relaxed, I watch as a boisterous dog comes careening onto the set.
Tail naturally carried high, he’s the type of dog sure to elicit a reaction from less confident dogs, who may see this is as posturing.
Without giving it a second thought he makes a beeline for a blocky Stabyhoun, who’s up to his ankles in the water, I’ll be swimming in once my friends arrive.
It’s a rude approach even by human standards. The dog’s owner simply looks on.
I brace for the inevitable “Don’t worry he’s friendly” call and the nearly as inevitable dog skirmish that are to follow.
Neither happen.
The bi-colored hunting dog takes a step deeper into the water.
It turns its hind quarters to the oncoming mutt and stares stiffly ahead, as if above it all. Not hard to interpret the meaning even if you’re not well versed in dog body language.
A pause.
The exuberant reddish-white mutt stops a couple of feet short of his target, standing still in way that reminds me of cat getting ready to pounce.
He’s unmoving, but his muscles are coiled.
Nevertheless, he did stop.
In response, the object of his attention shifts its head slightly up and to the left, looking away even more poignantly than before. Clearly it’s many levels above this canine windbag.
I hold my breath.
Two more seconds pass. The high-tailed mutt unfreezes and hightails it out of there.
I have just witnessed an amazing bit of canine communication and it makes my heart sing.
I decide I don’t want to dwell on if the owner should have prevented this conversation between canines from transpiring in the first place, by recalling their dog in a timely manner, or not.
Today is a good day.
My swim buddies have arrived. As we swim, the four of us, towing our brightly colored safety floats behind us, we simply enjoy this break in our day.
The water doesn’t seem that cold even after yesterday’s rain. There’s a bit of chop, that sometimes has me swallow water when I breath lakeside, and it makes me gulp-smile if that’s a thing.
On a couple of occasions I think I can even feel the water as they say. In my mind, I fly forward, only to realize “I’ve lost that loving feeling” a couple of strokes on. Ah well, better to have felt the water and lost it, then never to have felt it all.
Gerda is in front. She’s fast. She’s got the kind of speed I aspire to.
I follow after her neon pink tow float.
Can it be that swimming in cooler water hurts my shoulders less? I don’t think my shoulder really hurts, does it? This would be more of a nag than a pain.
I’m just having an amazing swim.
I decide I don’t want to dwell on if I should have given my shoulder another day to heal or not.
Today is a good day.
