This morning, as I do on most every single morning, I took Buddha and Stella for their walk at the dog park and beach. I would normally not even be telling you about this because it is such an every day regular occurrence that it is completely unremarkable. We go. We walk. We chase a ball. We drink from the dog fountain. We come home. Wait a few hours, repeat.
This morning, though, both of my dogs were visibly agitated when we got to the park. They are such creatures of habit that their usual routine is to sniff that tree there, pee on that bush over there, crawl under those poison oak bushes in that corner to see if the crazy homeless person has left behind any delicious Kentucky Fried Chicken or Taco Bell and in between those visits sniff every blade of grass and every blooming flower along the path.
But that didn't happen today.
Today, instead, they were two characters from Mutual Omaha's Wild Kingdom. They were like wild beasts who were fighting over their dog park territory. Rushing at each other, leaping into the air, fangs bared, wrestling each other to the ground, snarls and growls and fur flying! Over and over and over again. It was all I could do to get them to continue to "walk" through the park they were so intent on "killing" each other.
Not the usual mellow Labrador behavior at all.
I decided to take them down to the beach to chase their favorite Rainbow Stripey Ball and see if perhaps that would shake this "let's kill each other" demeanor out of them.
When we arrived at the beach, the first thing I noticed were the birds. There were literally hundreds of birds. Huge pelicans. Seagulls. Loons and Egrets. All congregated just off shore. Or swooping down towards the beach.
It was when we actually got down to the shoreline that I noticed the fish. Yes, the fish. It seems the fish had chosen today to commit suicide! The beach was littered with fish who were all flopping about. Fish that were throwing themselves from the ocean up onto the beach. Fish that normally swim out to the bay were instead choosing to leap onto the beach to become a tasty breakfast for all those birds who were waiting to eat them.
And then there was the absolutely HUGE sea lion who was sitting at one end just barking away.
The dogs were quite curious about the fish with the death wishes, but unsure what they were supposed to actually do with them. They kept rushing up to the flopping fish, poking them with their noses, running in circles around them, and barking! Stella, of course, decided that she had to become the grand protector of the fish and when other dogs would approach her "fish" she bared her teeth and charged after the dogs making sure they didn't come near.
Buddha would pick one up, carry it back toward the water, and then drop it. I think he was trying to save them, but it is hard to know for sure since it is hard to ever quite know what Buddha is thinking!
Eventually, Stella got to the point where she was just too agitated by all the fish she needed to "protect" and I decided it would be best to leave. I took both dogs back up to the field and they returned to their "let's kill each other" antics so I also decided that I should just take them home. But as I was making my way to the car, I noticed that the trees in the field were also filled with far more birds than normal. And that there were even hawks flying about, which is a rare thing to see.
So we come home. I share the story with DearSweetDave. I remark that it seems rather odd that the fish are all leaping FROM the bay onto the beach and am wondering what might cause such behavior.
I then went to see Shannon to get a massage. Complete bliss. By the way, if you go see Shannon for a massage, ask her to release all the knots and tension in your jaw. Goodness does that feel amazing! I burst into tears when she did it, but now? Now I feel like I can actually chew my food again!
I was just now walking back from my massage and in the middle of Church street there were seven or eight very large mice. Who were all spinning in circles. In broad daylight. In the middle of the street. Absolutely together, like they were dancing a very specific ballet.
The strangest part of all of this is that I was able to walk right up to them. They didn't stop, they didn't run away, they didn't move from the middle of the street. They just kept spinning in circles. Together.
So, of course, given the suicidal fish this morning and now the spinning mice, I have to ask, "What on earth is happening here in Santa Cruz?"
Anyone want to take a guess??
