One of our favourite things to do (she hasn’t exactly said so) is to go to the nearest beach, about 12 miles away. She can run around like a loon, down to the estuary to chase curlews, among the dunes, and along the sea shore. We’ve a routine now, as soon as we come back from the estuary and along by the water, she circles expectantly. I usually bring two or three sticks from my stash in the boot and fling the first into the water, not too far cos she’s not comfortable out of her depth, in she bounds, like a deer over the waves. Grabs the stick and bounds back, not quite on to the beach though, so unless I’m wearing wellies the stick floats out of reach – the reason I bring more than one.
On the way back to the car I keep a lookout for new sticks. It was tricky when I first started because the local seaweed consists of long stems with a frondy head, which at a distance look like sticks. Now I’ve developed a better eye, and pounce on a new stick with delight. A foot and a half is a good length, of the right weight. If it’s too thin and light then it won’t travel very far when thrown, or the wind’ll catch it. If it’s too heavy and damp, it might sink. If it’s too long she mightn’t carry it from the sea very easily. So, ideally 45 inches, heavyish in the hand, perhaps even slightly heavier at one end, to help with the throw, and not too brittle, so she can have a decent chew.
* Cork-speak for sun-bathing

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