... If only that were the case. Tinker and Virginia certainly wouldn't mind an endless summer, especially if it meant getting to go to the beach every day. The dynamic duo had a terrific time on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, a very dog-friendly area.
As usual, Tinker spent most of his time on full alert, sniffing for any other dogs in the vicinity. When he'd see a new dog, he completely lost his mind- screeching, barking, begging to play with them. Now keep in mind that 90% of the dogs down there are off-leash, but Beagles should NEVER be off-leash. (Yes, I know there are people that may disagree, but once they pick up a scent, Beagles have their own built-in getaway car.)
Virginia, meanwhile, loves to find a spot and plop down with a "snoof"- exhaling away the sand from her nose as she lands. She does pop up when Tinker "sounds the alarm" that another dog is nearby, and then she begins to unleash her deep, throaty protective bark. This began, on vacations pre-Tinker, back in Cape Cod in 2000-2001. We had never seen her react like that before. But she is our beach blanket security guard and she does a fine job. When the "threat" passes we tell her to "stand down".
Both dogs love bananas, and we generally share pieces with them as we eat them. A bite for us, a piece for each of them, and so on. Well on vacation, my brother, sister, and Dad were all there, meaning lots more banana for the Beags. In fact, their "granddogpa" is referred to as "Bananaman" and they recognize exactly who we're referring to when we use that phrase.
During nighttime TV watching Virginia enjoyed her time curling up on one of the couches, while Tinker hunkered down along the side of the couch on a crate pad. Occasionally we would put their bed behind the couch and one or both dogs would curl up inside.
As you may recall, to decrease the chances of him blowing another disc, we don't allow Tinker to go up and down the stairs; so we carry him. Thankfully, he's only about 21.5 pounds and is built kind of like a cat, but it still can get tiresome hoofing it up and down the stairs while carrying him to take him out. It's especially tough in the large houses of the Outer Banks where we spend most of our time on the 3rd floor. But this house had an elevator...woo hoo...good stuff.
The elevator had a sliding inner fan door and each level had an outer door, which is built like an ordinary interior door. Each and every time Tinker went into the elevator, he would tip his head from side to side (like Nipper, the RCA dog), as he stared at the door, wondering what that noise was on the other side. Of course none of us thought to film it. Maybe next year.