human retriever envies canine reliever

Retrievers are supposed to be good swimmers. My golden retriever Sara runs away from the sea when we go to the beach. We tell ourselves she's afraid of the sound of the waves.

One time dog and owners were applauded by Japanese tourists standing up to their waists in the water. noisynotes had carried Sara into the sea until they were about 30 metres from land. Once he set her down into the water, she paddled straight for the shore and tore around the beach in a mad run to celebrate her escape.

Retrievers, as the name suggests, are supposed to be good at retrieving objects. If you look up the history of the breed, I think you'll find a narrative about their first fathers and mothers being adept at retrieving quarry.

Look at this face.


This is Sara - she who should have been named a golden reliever because she excels at relieving herself of her load. One of her owners, the one who is female like her and belongs to the retriever family, has the daily responsibility of going into the back yard to retrieve floor mats or chew bones or dog futons that have been dragged outside and duly relieved.

I like the spirit of relieving. But I can't embody it well enough. I relieved myself of a piano I owned for nearly 20 years last Thursday. That fed a delusion that lasted all of 3 days. On Friday I talked to ampulet Y about giving away books and CDs. On Saturday I daydreamed about holding a garage sale or peddling my books at a flea market. Today I opened two boxes of books to see what I could say good bye to.

Nothing.

Woof!