A Dog By Any Other Name
Would smell like the beach.
Elvis has been LOVIN’ his life vest. My ex picks him up three or four times a week and walks him to the nearest False Creek Ferry dock. They enjoy a nice boat ride, exit at the Aquatic Centre, and hit the closest dog beach.
Never much of a fetcher in his youth, Elvis has become quite obsessed with it now that he doesn’t sink when he tries to retrieve. He will fetch for upwards of an hour at a time. I swear he’s bulking up. His senior dog bod is starting to look so buff that Andrew and I are seriously considering changing his name to Jack, as in “Jack LaLanne”.
Elvis is at the beach so much he no longer smells like a dog, which is great.
Except now he smells like a fish.