Walking our dogs on the beach was your idea.
We lived in the same coastal town.
We both owned dogs.
I attempted to sound enthused with your suggestion; picturing myself gracefully dodging waves, laughing at your jokes, my hair flowing in the ocean breeze… But…
Saturday morning was a blustery one. I had to forgo lip gloss due to the high winds and should have pulled my hair into a ponytail (but I had that damn vision, as mentioned above).
Lila, (who was clearly more excited about this date than I was) and I arrived at the beach. You were cute, but your black and white Australian Shepherd, Scout was abso-frekin-lutely adorable! And every passer-by had to stop and tell you so. You seemed to eat up the attention as eagerly as Scout.
You pulled a cellophane bag tied with a pink ribbon, out of the pocket of your flannel. You had brought Lila a bag of cookies. Well, played dog walker guy. Well, played. I must confess, I had never bought her those delectable treats; which explained her disinterest when you tried to feed her one. You seemed to take it personally.
We continued our trek through the sand. Trying to converse between leashes entwining, the howling wind and our dogs stopping every 10 seconds to sniff and pee, made it very difficult to see if there was chemistry.
It was if, we both threw in the white flag simultaneously. With our tails between our legs we headed our separate ways.
Yes, I live near the beach and I own a dog. But, I guess I should’ve mentioned I was more of a cat person.