The location we were planning on going to was very specific. There are sections of the beach that are closed at this point. We had to time our trip to coincide with low tide. At that point, a sandbar appears out of the water near the edge of the inlet into the ocean. Many years ago, my nephew, Kyle, discovered this "island" and they decided to name it, "Kyle Island."
In subsequent years other people have made similar discoveries and on a typical day there are five to ten boats and jet skis pulled up on the shore of this disappearing island. One of the common themes is for people to bring their dogs to the island. There are very few locations dogs are allowed and this is one of the last holdouts.
My son's point of contention was us calling it, "dog island" as it has more commonly been called of late since getting their two-year-old dog, Daisy. My son was incensed every time someone mistakenly called it Dog Island and corrected us forcefully. The dogs, however, couldn't care less what it was called—they loved it.
Daisy is a consummate boat rider and knew just want to do, where to stand, and how to behave on an idling or fast-moving boat. Matisse got into it fairly quickly, remembering from last year and another boat trip she was on last summer to a lake with our friends. When we arrived at Dog (or Kyle) Island, the two of them couldn't get off fast enough.
It's safe to run for both the dogs and the children (something my daughter doesn't get much chance to do with true freedom and safety.) The dogs would run around and then get into the water to cool off. Matisse would get up to half her leg height and then lay down in the water delicately, having the gently lapping water wash over her back.
There were other dogs our dogs met and people we saw, mostly from a significant distance, ten times over the social distancing requirement in most cases (the island lends itself to plenty of space for everyone.) On the edge of the island up against a rock bulkhead near a road there was a nice current that you could float down not unlike a lazy river.
The dogs ran, and ran, and ran. Matisse rolled in the sand and was a total mess. When we got home she got rinsed off for a long time by me in the outside shower, making sure all the sand was off her and cooling her down in the process. She was tired, asking for dinner early and eating an extra portion. I think we're going back to this disappearing low tide island of controversial name later in the week. The children but most especially the dogs certainly are hopeful we will.
The Big Boy Update: My son is in the middle of an audiobook—hardcore. He is, against rules, carrying the iPad around with him wherever he goes in the house. Tonight, after dinner, we were going to go pick up ice cream at a store three block away. We wondered what he was doing when he asked where his backpack was. He had put on his earphones, placed his iPad in his backpack and wanted to keep listening on the way to get ice cream. We had to kibosh that.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is playing games with anyone who will play with her. She is currently beating Aunt Kelly at Othello while I type this. I fixed Stone Soup this morning so the tactile cards I'd made wouldn't slide around on the board with velcro dots. I am a bulk consumer of velcro dots. In years past I've packed loads of toys for the children. This year my son is content with his iPad and Nintendo Switch. My daughter has her card games, board games including the Monopoly game updated to play "fast mode" shortening the game from a week (possibly) to just an hour or two—making it more attractive to those of us who don't want to make the supreme time commitment involved in playing the full game. My daughter would be happy to play for a month, I think. She loves Monopoly.
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