Of Labenne and the 90-yr old

Labenne is what they call a 'sauvage' beach, with 'sauvage' meaning 'wild waters'. Visitors here are mainly experienced surfers who dare the scary waves and tempt their fates as there are no lifeguards to save them if anything should happen. The waves are normally ferocious, and even if they aren't, the undercurrents are deadly, and no normal person would actually go swimming in them.

We went cos it was the least populated (and in my opinion, most beautiful) beach in the area, so our beach buddy, Oliver, would be able to play in peace.

Oliver is 90-years old (15 in real years), and watched William grow up. He can't see too well anymore, but he's still energetic, frisky and thinks of himself as a young man. He'd place himself in front of us every single time a (bigger and much younger dog) would be in the vicinity and growl at them menacingly, as if daring them to come close to us.

While we were in Bayonne, he attached himself to me, and assigned himself my protector of sorts. He'd always plonk himself outside our room in the attic as we slept, and every single time I excused myself to go upstairs, he'd come bounding up the stairs with me, and wait patiently by the door while I'd use the toilet or grab something from the suitcase. When I sat in the living room, he'd place himself a foot away and pretend to sleep, and at 30 minute intervals, if I didn't pay any attention to him, would come by for a pat or rub. Needless to say, I fell in love.

Back to our tiny trip to Labenne. When William told him we were bringing him along to their old fave haunt, it was as if he was possessed by the happy spirit or something. He wagged his tail so furiously I thought it was going to fall off, and jumped on me with unbridled joy. In the car, he sat on my lap and stuck his head out, so happy to feel the wind in his face, and when we were nearing the area (which was half an hour away), started trying to jump out of the car. How is it that dogs 'know' and remember so well?

It was an afternoon out of a tiny little movie. Me and my love, and the dog who was so infectiously happy, who made us see everything through his eyes. His simple joy of just being there, wagging his tail, breathing in the sea scents, looking around in wonderment, jumping around. That day at Labenne, I felt so content, and so deliriously appreciative of nature and life that if I had a tail, I'd be wagging it too.