I have the most interesting thoughts while digging. You know, deep thoughts like: How far down can I dig? Where will I end up? How far can I sling the sand? But Mom gets bored before my hole reaches perfection and starts walking off. See me looking? I always have to check and make sure she hasn’t gone.
She’s good for about a half hour — people and other dogs come by. She talks to the people. The dogs look at my hole in awe. I concentrating on digging. But I know Mom’s only good for that half hour. Then I hear: I’m leaving! Of course, Mom’s my responsibility and I can’t have her wandering off without me. So, I leave my hole and catch up. I know there are lots of holes to be dug, and, I will definitely dig them! And there’s always a fresh palette of sand waiting for me at the river…Mom says there’s something called a “tide” that comes in and fills in my hole. What’s up with that?