Remembering – Danny Goes to the Beach – Guest Post by, Andrew Joyce…

My name is Andrew Joyce and I used to have a partner in crime until he set off for loftier environs. His name was Danny and he was a pretty good writer … for a dog. And he had many fans. Below is a picture of him with the Miami chapter of his fan club.

Anyway, I thought I might share with you one of Danny’s favorite stories. I still remember the day he writes about like it was yesterday … but it was eight years ago. Danny remembered it too. That’s why he told the tale that you are about to read.

Danny Goes to the Beach

What a time I had yesterday. I went to the beach!

I like to wake Andrew up early and take him for his walk before it gets too hot out. And I like our walks because there’s a whole lotta good sniffing out there. But yesterday it was Andrew that roused me from a sound sleep. I was dreaming of turkey slices. I was about to bite into a big, fat juicy slice when he shook me awake. I almost bit him.

Anyway, he told me we were going to the beach to watch the sun come up. When we walk, I lead the way, but when we go to the beach, Andrew drives the car because I don’t have a driver’s license. Can you believe it? Florida doesn’t give dogs driver licenses! I emailed the governor about this injustice, but I haven’t heard back from him yet. I know that not having thumbs might be problematic. How would I grip the steering wheel? But I figure I’ll worry about that after I get my license.

Sunrises—and sunsets for that matter—don’t do much for me; they have no scent. So what’s the big deal? But I allow Andrew to take me to the beach because I have my own agenda. I love to bark at other dogs. The beach we go to is secluded, and dogs are not allowed (another email I must send to the governor). However, dogs take their humans there in the early morning and as long as everyone is gone shortly after the sun comes up, there’s no trouble.

So we get to the beach and Andrew sets up his folding beach chair. He’s such a wuss; can’t he just sit on the sand like everyone else? Me, he ties to a palm tree. Then he waits for the sun to come up. What does he think … it’s not going to come up unless he’s watching?

As I said, I have my own reasons for being there, so I start my nose a-twitching. I can smell another dog from a mile away. If I were a super hero, I’d be known as SUPER SNOOT. I would sniff out my nefarious nemeses and bring them to justice. I think I’d look cool with a cape. I look good in blue, so it would be blue with a big red “D” emblazoned right in the middle of it. Danny the Dog, mild-mannered dog by day, SUPER SNOOT by night! I like the sound of that.

I digress. Back to my story.

Andrew’s getting excited because the sun is coming up (what a surprise!). And I’m sniffing for dogs when all of a sudden I detect something good, as in chicken-bone good. So I put my super snoot to the ground and start my search. Of course, being SUPER SNOOT, I find the bones right away. They were only a few inches under the sand. But before I take one of those delightful morsels into my mouth, I give Andrew a surreptitious glance to make sure he isn’t going to ruin my fun. I needn’t have worried. His attention was on a red ball coming up out of the ocean, turning the clouds a bright pink and orange. So he was engaged. That’s when I bit into the first bone. CRUNCH! At the sound, Andrew turned and saw my treasure. I didn’t know the old guy could move that fast. He was out of his chair, and before I could do anything about it, he had my whole stash. At least I had half a bone in my mouth and he wasn’t going to get that.

The short of it is, I distracted Andrew from his precious sunrise. He took my bones, and I didn’t get to bark at a single dog. What a bust! On the ride home, I didn’t go over and lick his face as I usually do. I was mad at him and he was mad at me. But by the time we got home, all was forgiven and he gave me a turkey slice. That’s why I keep him around.

Andrew Joyce Website


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42 thoughts on “Remembering – Danny Goes to the Beach – Guest Post by, Andrew Joyce…

  1. Danny! You dog, you… Such a great life and we are so lucky that you took the time to document your adventures. You will always be a superhero to me. And I am supporting AJ on this one… NO CHICKEN BONES, DUDE! There, I said it. As I know you sent the tales into the Andrew’s mind to set forth into print, I also know that as he reads this, you will hear it. Love you, Danny. Thanks for being. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

    • It was always a constant fight to keep Danny away from chicken bones. He would always fool me by pretending to sniff where another dog had peed. But that wasn’t the case. Early in his career, when he was on the trail of a chicken bone, he would be intense. He noticed that I noticed, so over time, he took on an air of boredom. It was like he was saying, “Nothing to see here. You do your human thing and enjoy nature and I’ll do my dog thing.” So I’d look up at a safire-blue sky with puffing white clouds dotted about. Or I’d check out a stately old oak and marvel at God’s greatness. Then it would come, “CRUNCH!” He got me every time.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. ‘Bed Time Stories…’ has several Danny stories and I enjoyed them all. To be truthful, sometimes it was a great diversion from the intensity of Andrew’s stories to have a Danny story inserted. Thank you for another heartwarming story.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Reblogged this on Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life and commented:
    Ahhhh the lovely Danny.. we do miss him and his wicked comments.. and calling me Ms. Spicy.. Andrew shares one of Danny’s brilliantly written stories about his misadventures.. I bet he is leading a few of our friends astray somewhere green with a beach dogs can run on off the lead and bones are buried for a treasure hunt everyday.

    Liked by 2 people


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