By Georgia Osten
Other than my husband and our dog, Maezy, there is this little guy who lives under the cushion of my chair. I always look to make sure I won’t crush him when I sit down, just to be sure he’s out of harm’s way – if you know what I mean. I discovered him quite by accident one day when I decided to lift up the cushion after a heavy rain, just to let it dry out a bit. There he was hunkered down in the back corner. I think it might be the jungle pattern on the fabric that attracts him.
One time, he jumped down, I guess I scared him. Mistake, big mistake! Maezy was all over him, being the inquisitive pup she is. He jumped under a rocking chair and she stalked him and kept guard until one of us pulled her away so the little guy could make a run for it.
She does the same thing with the toads out in the yard in the evenings, just kind of pounces on them. I wonder if they taste bad because she never seems to try to grab one in her mouth. Probably a natural defense for toads.
So, I thought my little friend was gone for good until last evening’s Happy Hour. I pulled back the cushion, and there he was. I’m happy to see you back little buddy. Happy Hour just hasn’t seemed the same with you gone.
GO’s Sand Bucket is only one beach bum’s journal of life at the beach, probably something each of you can relate to. Please feel free to email me with your thoughts, visions and/or feelings of just exactly what the beach means to you.
(published 8/12/2014)
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