About Tunng - in a Roundabout Way

We're getting a little slap happy in the tropical environment.

Those trips to the beach will bring it on anyone, once they start relaxing.

We've noticed some shells, most of them tiny, on the beach.

We haven't started collecting shells yet.  But we will.  We're saving that for a later day.

We're hearing, though, that some people use shells for making music.

Moma even said there's a rock group in the UK called Tunng.

They're known for their use of strange instruments, including sea shells.

We have tunngs of our own.  Instruments they are.  But used for totally different purposes.

For smiling.

(This was me, Jake, right after I adopted my furever family. I was already smiling.)

 

And smiling (Fergi, right after SHE adopted us).

 

For simply looking cute.

 

And for stretching to improve a really good yawn.

 

For sticking out at your brother.

(Just kidding.  She loves me.)

For licking ice crystals and snow flakes off a nose.

And for sweating, dog style.

(All of us do that here in northern Florida.)

We've haven't properly introduced our Yorkie relatives yet - Aunt Chloe and Uncle Andy.

They're champs at panting.  And their tongues are cute.

They're cute.  We'll write more about them another time.

You can see our Cousin Zoë modeling her own tongue here. 

She deserves her own claim to tongue fame.

You can see her on her own blog at Snippets from a Whippet.

And our little black bugger uncle even uses his tongue pretty well as a food bowl washer.

(We don't leave much for him.  Sorry, bud.)

We read that Rocky Creek Scotties is sporting a tongue tickling contest to celebrate their 100th post, 

so we decided we'd join the fun.

(If you don't already know them ... stop by and visit and wish 'em some congratulations for their anniversary.)

Now it's time for a nice cool drink.

Another good use for these pretty pink tongues.

If you haven't already seen it, check out this video of the amazing canine tongue in motion.

Beach Buddies

We've been here for quite a few days now and we're becoming quite the northern Floridians.

We're easing into a new schedule (we don't do anything too quickly here - that would make us pant and sweat and that's not a good thing.)

We're up early to walk. Otherwise it's too hot.

(This is the one thing that is putting a cramp on my lifestyle. 

I LOVE to sleep in in the mornings.)

Our days are leisurely (much spent under the gentle ceiling fans).

Our evenings are spent with long walks at dusk through the neighborhood

or trips to the beach to watch the sunsets.

We're likin' this lifestyle (even if we're not crazy about the heat.)

We're making new acquaintances, which is always fun.

I'm always on the lookout for new pals, social creature that I am.

The beach is the perfect spot for dog-watching.

Our cousin Zoë (she lives here - she's a "local") often goes with us to the beach.

She's introducing us to this type of southern living.

(She's the beautiful whippet.)

On our first visit, Zoë met some doggie that we didn't recognize (and he made us feel a little afraid.)

She made friends, though. And she gave us confidence to do the same thing.

 

I noticed another handsome (rather pretty, really) little guy on the beach.

Couldn't quite keep my eyes off him.

I managed to pull Moma closer

so I could meet him appropriately.

 

A little Yorkie. Found out his name was Jack.  And that he was born over the big pee to the east.

He was rehomed, just like Fergi and I were. (Woo hoo!)

Then he and his people made a long trip (didn't think to ask if it was Aire Ruby) with a bagful of belongings.

He's a beach dog now.  A local. And a cute one, at that.

I think he liked me. I think his people liked me too.  I liked their pats and ear scritches.

He was a sweetie and let Fergi ease in a bit for a long distance sniff.

We're hoping we meet up with Jack again.

His people were really nice. They used to live about 70 miles north of London.

Wonder if they ever caught a sniff of our UK friends?

We forgot to ask if he'd ever met Eric or even Hamish or a coupla cute bassets or a pack of beautiful beagles way up north.

We know the UK is a big place.  Still, our friends are famous. Some of them are even royals.

We think everyone should know them.

We also forgot to ask about Jack's fancy short cut.

(Gramma was curious when we got home. We're thinkin a new "do" 

may be under consideration for our Cousin Chloe.)

I kept looking south.  Over the water. I heard Moma say that water reaches all the way

to the Yucatan Peninsula.  

Mexico.

We've got a friend in that part of the world.  

We thought for a bit we'd found her.

A Lorenza-girl!  Minus a pretty dress.

But we think "she" was a bit offended when we found out "she" was (is) a "he"

and his name is Snappy?  Scrappy? From Asheville, North Carolina.  

(Oh dear.  The heat got to our brains again.  Memory loss.)

He was a cute little bugger and the humines had fun talking

while we sniffed each other (rather, I sniffed him.)

I may have put him off just a bit.

Meanwhile, Fergi was looking for new experiences of her own.

 

And she found them in the very friendly, very gentle people who understood how far a loving touch can go.

New friends come in all forms.

Just like new experiences come in lots of different packages.

There was even a TRUCK on the beach!  It had to have been ordered just for me!

We're loving this.  Especially the sunsets.

This summer sort of fun is just fine with us.

We're Beach Dogs

We've been talking about it for a couple of weeks now, and finally it's happened!

We made it to the beach!

Not "the beach" where Gramma and Auntie Judith and Zoë live (in their houses - in north Florida)

but THE BEACH - the real beach with endless sand and water!

It's less than a mile from their homes, the water and sand.

But the dog beach is further away (maybe three or four miles.)  Far enough to have to drive.

Far enough to have to get Moma in action to take us.

And that's been hard - cuz she's been sick.

But we've been patient, and it paid off!

We made it!

This was my second visit (I was here last summer.) 

But it was Fergi's first.

I recognized the sights, sounds, and smells right away, and tried to teach my sissie what I knew.

We all wanted her first experience to be a good one.

"Start slow.  Get used to all of this at your own pace."

She listened.  She trusts me.

 

"Head on down these stairs. Past the shoes. They're not worth paying attention to.

There's much better stuff ahead."

"Here it is Fergi!

We're on the beach!  This is sand! That's the Gulf of Mexico!"

I remembered!  I didn't need the "warm up" time that I needed last year.

This was MY beach!   Now it's OUR beach!

 

Check out that new pier.  The old one got destroyed by a hurricane a couple of years ago.

This one is still under construction, and it's LONG!

(I think we'll be able to walk out on it when it's finished - in another year or so.)

"Whaddya think, Fergi?

Isn't this GREAT?

It's here for us to play!  This is part of the big world meant for us to enjoy!

We'll take it slow and easy, but we're thinking you're gonna love it!"

(Moma's glad you've got those speckles, Fergs.  

She says you'd blend in with the sugar white sand, otherwise.

But don't worry. You won't be getting away from us.

Our people even double leashed you, until they know you are safe and sound.)

 

"Look, Fergi!  All the way down the beach.

You can sorta see the pink rays of the sun as it sets to the west."

 

"We're going to be able to enjoy this beach together, Fergs.

You and me. With our people."

"And with our cousin Zoë.  She loves it, too."

(I'm glad she joined us this evening. We love her so much.

And she's a really fast runner. She models how to really let loose and FLY on the beach!)

We got sort of a late start this night, and the sun set shortly after we got there. 

Moma promised we'd come back earlier next time.

But we'll probably still wait till evenings.

It's so much cooler.  The sand's not so hot.

We don't have to worry about us white coated doggies getting sunburnt

and there aren't so many people.

(The doggie beach really isn't very big - but it's nice and we plan to take full advantage of it.)

"You're gonna love it, Fergi. It's really a very special place."

"And we'll be able to enjoy it for several more weeks."

Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead!

We woke up Tuesday morning rested and refreshed.

We'd had a good night's sleep in a dog friendly motel that made us feel really special.

There was a sliding glass door that I could lie and look out while Moma packed up the Love Bubble on Wheels.

It was fun and lots of people noticed me and smiled.  That's always worth a tail wag.

It was a good way to start the day.

We'd heard our people saying we'd be arriving at the beach this day,

but first we were going to take some side trips along the way.

Yahoooooo!

We'd stayed near Hattiesburg, Mississippi.  In the "Deep South."

Guess that meant we ought to start lookin out for critters like possums and coons and weasels.

We know. That meant we were supposed to look with our noses to the ground

and NOT with our cute mugs facing the camera.

(We've got a ways to go to become anything resembling Earth Dogs.)

We had been seeing lots of unfortunate armadillos along the way.

(Sorry for such a graphic picture, but that was pretty much the way they all looked along the side of the road. 

None of them were cutely walking along.)

Moma said they come out at night, and can't see so well, and get hit by cars.

It's not because they move too slowly. She knows. She said she saw one run that ran even faster

than Fergi or I can run when we bolt.  That's fast.

We have to trust her. We know she won't let us race one anytime soon.

Moma also said that we should learn from the armadillos' sad fate and stay close.

We listened.

Pretty soon the landscape took on a whole different view!

Even the air smelled different!

It was the big water we'd been driving and driving toward.

Moma pointed out the tall bridge and said we'd be going over it, heading to a little island

off the coast of southern Alabama.

Did ya see the big bug splat on the window?  

And, by the way, the blurriness of the picture had NOTHING to do with nose prints.

It was ALL humidity.

Anyhow, Moma was right.

That was one REALLY tall bridge.  It was like going up and then down a GIANT hill in the Ozarks. 

We'd have taken a cool picture of it, but there was one big ugly truck in front of us.

Here's one we found on the internet.

We just oooo'd and awww'd.  Then we saw the water tower. We knew we'd arrived.

We'd headed to this particular place for a coupla reasons, one being that it has a reputation

for being really dog friendly.

And that it was.

We, the now quite educated canines, were about to get an American history lesson.

We found out we'd arrived at historic Fort Gaines, on Dauphin Island, Alabama.

The area had been a French colony as early as 1699, originally named Massacre Island,

but renamed in honor of the heir to the French throne.

(Evidently the name "Massacre" was too scary sounding.  In some ways, it was a massacre for us, though.)

Pirates raided the island. Hurricanes nearly destroyed it. 

Ownership shifted from France to Great Britain to Spain to Great Britain again.

Through all of this (and the War of 1812) it was recognized that the area was well suited for American defense along her Gulf of Mexico coastline.

Once an American possession, a fort was built over the next 40 years and it played a big part in the Civil War (the Battle of Mobile Bay.)

It was here that the Union Admiral David Farragut shouted "Damn the torpedos. Full speed ahead"

in their final approach toward the Confederate navy.

And here we were.

Standing in front of the anchor to Farrugut's ship.

(That was one heavy piece of metal.)

Needless to say, our Nina-Girl was excited and ready to email a picture of this to her American History teacher!  

She'd just learned about the battle and the famous exclamation just two or three months ago.

It became our battle-cry! 

The Fort was cool. But not in an ambient temperature sort of way.  We were VERY hot!

 

We were guessing not many WFTs walked these paths. Crossed these bridges.

 

Climbed these gun and ammunition ramps.

Looked down over this kitchen courtyard

(and turned away ... there were no good smells ... they were evidently long gone.)

Walked along firing stations.

Imagining cannons that had been positioned behind the brick parapets. 

(What were those, anyway, para-pets?  We don't think they were any kind of pet we were familiar with.)

We even saw shell damage, from the USS Chickasaw.

If you biggify this picture, you might be able to see it.

A big dent, like the ones I might make in the walls, if I tossed my ball around a little too ferociously.) 

We looked down into the living quarters.

(Must've been rough.)

We saw the Southeast Bastion, looking south of the mouth of the bay.

And we walked out onto it, and imagined the Union ships gathering for the run past the Fort into the Mobile Bay.

(Nina-Girl's history teacher woulda been proud.)

But our tour came to a painful end.

Sand burrs in our tender little feet.

(I'm not smiling here, partner.)

This was the massacre I was talking about.

We found some shade and our people plucked the nasty burrs out.

And Fergs took one last look at history.

We got the extra special treatment, and were carried for the rest of the tour.

And we made our way into the gift shop.

Stuffies!

Problem was: the lady in the shop warned, "Be careful and don't let your dogs lick the gifts."

The likes of her! OhMyDog!

What? What was that you said?

Did I hear your right?

I thought this was a dog-friendly sort of place!

She must've been in a really crabby mood,

or maybe we just weren't as cute as usual since we were so bloody hot and had miserably sore pads!

Anyhow, we didn't want to buy any of her stuffies anyway.

We had our OWN really nice stuffies in the car.

Bones and blue dolphins and pink flamingos from our friends.

Instead we headed for the sprinklers to cool off!

We loaded back up, took off in the car, and drove up to the ferry just as it was ready to pull away.

There was one spot waiting, just for us.

We pulled up the car (the little silver Love Bubble) and they pulled up the ramp!

We were OFF! A new adventure!

We were now officially water dogs, crossing the Mobile Bay on the ferry.

Watching the pelicans and the sea gulls.

Smiling big.

Keeping our butts cool.

Looking forward to our arrival.

At our final destination.

Home for the next six weeks.

Much much more to come.

Stay posted!

(We're having a great time!)