Finlay can swim

I was happily watching Finlay have fun on the pebbly beach, while I idled the time away balancing a very fine rock, and taking photos of it.



Finlay roused a duck from behind one of the big boulders. He had it in his mouth, it got away, it scrambled, fluttered, Finlay barked so much he let go, the duck scrabbled over the stones to the water. Finlay followed. The duck swam. Finlay swam.

And swam,

and swam,

and swam some more.

The waves were not terribly big, but they broke over his head. I couldn’t see the duck any more, could only see, then not see, then see again, this dog valiantly duck catching, swimming out and out to sea. Focused, determined, directed.

One way only.

Out to sea.

After ten minutes while I imagined how I was going to explain what had happened to the family, and my throat was getting sore from calling, I could see him less certainly turn his head from side to side. Had the duck decided to go diving? Had it had enough of this damn dog? At last, all well that ends well, he heard me and turned back.

Now I know Finlay is a very good swimmer. Wish I had known before.



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