AND…..they’re OFF!
Gingerbread cottages draw me in. What was it like on this secret garden island back in the 1800’s when these enchanting structures were built? History tells me about the religious base of the camp starting from the ‘camp meeting’ movement of the 19th century. Nine tents grew to 500 adorned cottages from 1880 on with 318 remaining today. The Tabernacle, a huge pavilion style cast iron structure erected in 1879 is positioned in the center of the camp. A lighted cross, was added as a ‘Beacon to All’ across Nantucket Sound in 1926. I am simply mesmerized by this complex of winding paths with tiny gingerbread dream-like dwellings, a storybook land.
Sami and I roam, enthralled, exploring the cottage streets. A Giordano’s pizza treat, unrelated to the Chicago restaurant, Buster, the owner reminds me, leaves me juggling the leftover pizza box and a ‘doggie diaper bag,’ on our walk. Of course, Sami decides to pause for a poop break. Like a high wire artist, while balancing my phone, the pizza box and the doggie diaper bag over my shoulder, with a dog-restricted wrist, I bend to scoop the brown bundle into a green bag tying it off to be added to the hand holding the pizza, another ball in my juggling act. The day and my arms fading, I open the map app on my iphone and place it on top of the pizza box hopefully guiding me back to the location of my car.
Suddenly, Sami spies a woman sweeping sand from her porch on Pennacook Ave. Sixty pounds of pure muscle yanks me forward, all the ‘balls’ in my act wobbling perilously. The woman looks up. I shuffle closer shouting, “Hi, can my pup say hello?” “Sure” her response. Whew, crisis averted. Clearly a dog fan, moving in for a good side rub she asks, “Do you live nearby?” “I think I’m heading toward my car up the road. Have you lived here long?” “Vacationing every summer for 60 years and full time for the last 10!”
She continues to explain that she lost her beloved retriever 3 years ago. He was her private ‘pacer,’ like a dolphin pod the two spent each morning for years racing along the chilly ocean coastline side by side. She asks, “Does your dog like to swim?” I explain that Sami and her sister Truly are swim-a-holics between catapulting themselves off the pool sundeck in our yard and diving for ducks on Paw Paw Lake where our Michigan home is. She comments that she lived in Michigan too near Detroit at one point in her life. I tell her I haven’t found a dog friendly beach yet here, and she asks if I have been to Lower Lambert Cove?
Feeling lightheaded from the scent of pizza and poop rising and struggling to maneuver the pizza box, with my phone and dog, I blurted out, “Do you guys like pizza? I didn’t touch it, just slid it from the plate to the box. What’s your name? Mine is Sharon?” Letting me know her name was Kathy, she immediately responded, “Of course, who turns down pizza?” She goes on, “Hey, I go swimming in the ocean every morning. Do you think Sami would go in the water with me? I wear something to keep me warm.” Thinking to myself, “is this woman actually willing to go for a swim with Sami?” I manage to respond that I wasn’t sure if she would go in the ocean, but that I for sure didn’t want to go in the chilly water! Kathy assures me that she certainly would take Sami for a swim reminding me again how much she missed that special routine with her dog, Scout.
A man walks out of the cottage, “Oh, this is my husband, Greg. We’re retired veterinarians. I retired first then he did a couple years ago. We’ve always had two or three rescue dogs that needed homes. I told my husband, if you ever see a golden retriever that needs rescuing, bring it home. Sure enough, he came home with Scout!”
Greg remarks, “you would have to go before 10am, the cut off time for dogs to get off the beach,” piping in on the swimming discussion. “You can leave that green bag there; we’ll take care of it; we’ve got a little dog in here.” Relieved I drop the green bag instantly. “Thanks! I could go at 8:30?” Greg responds, “You should go earlier so you have enough time.” Kathy counters, “I can pick you up at 8:15.”
Beyond excited, this was the one thing I had not been able to do yet with Sami during our visit to the Vineyard. I handed Kathy one of my ‘Gone with the Winnie’ cards and started to walk down the porch saying, “It’s a date!” Another woman who seems to know them walks onto the porch greeting Kathy and Greg. Kathy introduces me, “This is Sharon. She’s an ‘Adventure Seeker.’ “This is Leslie, my neighbor.” She turns to Leslie, “We’re taking Sami swimming tomorrow at Lambert’s Cove. Wanna come?” I think to myself, “yep that’s me, an ‘Adventure Seeker’” delighted with my new job description.
What a serendipitous walk! As I look down at the blue line on my iphone blindly following it toward the unknown, someone whispers, “plan b, at least you know someone on Pennacook Ave if you can’t find the damn car.” Three blocks down and across the street I see the Dog Store where I started the day. Thrilled I’m not lost, I realize I don’t have any way to contact Kathy, so I drive back down Pennacook to her house. When I pull up, they are all still on the tiny porch and I yell out the open window, “I think I should take your cell phone number in case I need to call you in the morning.” I enter the number into the contact I had already started while her name was fresh in my head. Driving off I shout out, “If I ever buy a cottage here, I want to be YOUR neighbor!” Kathy shouts back, “Pennacook forever!”
The morning can not come soon enough. Towels, treats, and toys are tucked in my growing doggie diaper bag. Sami is tugging at my heart. Off we go for another adventure! From the bench at the bus stop in front of the campground, we both see Kathy pulling up. Kia and her human, Lynn, Kathy’s friend joins us. As we approach Lambert’s Cove, Sami just knows somethings up. The trail down to the beach is easy with Sami’s energy like an engine revving for a race. The view over the apex of the hill before the beach is a grand entrance for the starting gate to the cove. Dogs are appearing along the path, all engines raring for the race ahead. We approach the bottom of the hill, unrestrainable….AND…. they’re OFF. The little dogs, neck and neck, retriever pulling up on the inside curve, here comes Walter the lab, bright red kettle ball in mouth. The sight is invigorating.
Did I say I wasn’t sure if Sami would go in the ocean? Kathy leads, in full wet suit, Sami following instinctively for the chase. A brief swim next to Kathy is cut short by dogs racing pell-mell everywhere, the winning enticement. Sami plays like a new baby learning to run, bounding from pup to pup, “Hi I’m Sami, wanna run? Swim? Jump? Share my stick? Let’s go!!” The fun is insane. I throw her a stick to fetch, she dashes toward it, picks it up, turns to see more action and drops the stick. So, it goes for at least a half mile down the beach, I throw, she runs, I fetch. Humm, who is training who….
By the time Kathy and Lynn drop us at the campground, both dogs are lingering in the back of the van, noses up still catching the freedom in the ocean breeze from the open windows in front. Sami plops down before I even open the door to the RV, the best kind of tired and ready to rest. Truth be told, I’m worn out too, my daily steps seeing a new high today. We both hit the sack early dreaming of sand and sun, running, and fetching, engines timed out…. for now.
