The dog who swam too much

The dog could have continued for a few hours more. I, though, had a cell phone, keys and no spare clothes. So i pottered around till the waves lapped at my knees.

All the while, the dog lapped up the sea, the waves, the company — another dog and the person with him, who also loved swimming. They pranced in the water, ducked, dove, weaved and occasionally forgot anyone else but them existed in the world.

The tide was flat but the end-of-the-monsoon waves still showed their potency.

“Gundooooooo.”
“Oye!”.
“Idhar aaaa.”

It happened. 15 minutes later. When he finally lost some interest in his companions and came swimming to shore before bounding over the last bits. The chew-ball did the rest as we finally ran along the edge of the waves — one foot splashing, one foot pounding wet sand that squelched beneath.

Somewhere along the run he dashed off to steal a tennis ball from some children playing a game of cricket. He eluded their arms and continued his run. Their game ended, his new game had just begun.

Sand. Water. A ball. People to run and swim with. Water baby was in his elements after a month. This was just the beginning for him.

He had swam too much, but only for me. There would be no stopping him now. The moment demanded different — more.

Published by appamprawns

soni writes about children and people in controlled spaces, in his quest for appam stew. homi writes in the hope of being able to buy prawns to make patiyo.

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