I was fifteen on Sunday

I appear to have had something called a birthday last Sunday. I am told that I was fifteen years old which, in human years, makes me quite ancient, a little dusty and somewhat crumbly. Of course, being a stray, orphan or rejected fur, no one really knows when my actual birthday was so I am happy to get some sort of celebration.

As a result of my birthday I was loaded into my car prison cell and transported to an unknown destination. I was promised fun, plenty of shenanigans and plenty of belly rubs, head scritches and ear ruffles. Lenny came along for the ride and we looked quizzically at each other when loaded into the car. Down the lane, turn right, turn right again, follow the road for miles and miles and miles, turn left, turn right, drive along a motorway and then turn left along a narrow road. We could smell something familiar but couldn’t quite put our paw on what it may have been. As soon as we had parked up and the boot was opened we saw the most welcoming face of Sasha beagle who greeted us in typical fashion. This seemed to make a few people in the vicinity smile and laugh. Out of the car and onto our paws. Welcome to the Wirral Way the sign said. We had arrived at a place called Thurstaston and it looked really nice.

Once the humans had got their greetings completed, we led the way along the gravel path. I was immediately accused of pulling like a steam train and told to slow down due to me being of advanced years. I took no notice as we strolled along the path all the while avoiding the joggers, cyclists and other walkers coming toward us. After a while we turned right and headed along a small lane toward the river Dee. As we wandered out onto the beach I could see Wales on the opposite shore and I felt happy to see the land of my birth. Along the sandy beach we strolled (read pulled like a steam train). Lenny and Sasha walked nicely and they were very politely walking alongside each other, when Sasha wasn’t running ahead and having a lovely time.

Along the beach we went, sniffing and trying to eat any dead washed up sea creatures, all the while being watched by the parentals who were trying to ruin our fun. Up the steps and back toward the cafe. We knew what was coming next as the question was asked “Ice cream anyone?”. Us furs didn’t get any delicious looking ice cream. We had to sit and be good whilst the humans ate their delicious looking ice creams. After a while we were moved along again and found ourselves being loaded back into our travel crates for the return journey. We said our sad goodbyes and we really hope to see Sasha again soon.

We arrived home and were, for some reason, really rather tired. We managed to sleep until at least our evening dinner, which was a miracle for me, apparently. What a great day, in a lovely place, with brilliant weather and an ace way to celebrate my birthday. I am a very, very lucky lad.