So a Labrador, a dog owner and a large Russian guy walk into a dog beach. The Russian brings lunch. He sits down in the sand next to a garbage can against the dog-friendly side of the fence, unwraps his rare hamburger and—BAM!—the dog bounds over, grabs the food out of the guy’s hands and bolts, pickles in its wake. The owner (yes, me) runs over and mumbles an insincere apology between sputtered laughs. The whole scene was wrong on so many levels—and I’m not even talking about the guy’s Speedo.
People of America and the former Soviet bloc, do not eat your lunch next to an excrement-filled can while surrounded by dozens of free-running canines. Actually, do not eat your lunch next to an excrement-filled can, full stop. And, while you’re at it, do not bring your cat, ferret or rabbit to the dog beach for some relaxation. Do not encourage your infants and toddlers to make sand castles where dogs lift their legs and drop their donations. Do not slather on the tanning oil, lie on your towel and scream like Mike Tyson if wet hounds step on you and kick sand in your melanoma-prone face. And please, please do not shriek, “Ooh, get this dog away from me!” if an exuberant canine happens to shake himself dry on your expensive dress. If you are wearing designer clothing to a function where a large percentage of the guests are likely to slobber on you, paw you or hump your leg, you are not well-dressed, whether you’re at the dog beach or a lobbyists’ convention. (Lisa Grayson)
