According to Wikipedia (a wicked trustable source that I was not allowed to use in grad school (and was not available to me before that because it did not exist yet (yes, I am that level of very old (practically ancient (just ask my kids)))))…

Where was I?

Oh, yeah. So, according to Wikipedia, a palate cleanser is, “… a neutral-flavored food or drink that removes food residue from the tongue allowing one to more accurately assess a new flavor.” 

Many times, I’ve seen the term used to describe something that cleanses our mental palates… gives us a break from the complexities and bafflings and hauntings that elbow their ways into too many of our days.

Wikipedia mentions that traditional palate cleansers include sorbet, bread, bananas, and pickles. For me, mental palate cleansers include sunshine, fresh air, nature, gardens, drawing, writing, reading, cooking, photography…

I either need an awful lot of mental palate cleansing, or the anxiety that I *might* require heaps of them has me stockpiling mental palate cleansers!

Oh.

And dogs… dogs figure big in my mental palate cleanser space.

Not wanting to be selfish, I offer you my mental palate cleanser from earlier today.

Belle and I headed off to the island beach, where I encouraged her to make the most of many excellent smells…

And she encouraged me to indulge in the many excellent tastes (which I did not)..

Mostly I did not because Belle herself did not seem to be enjoying the tastes she was sampling.

We walked up and down the beach, exploring slimy rocks and tide pools, as well as many items along the sand.

Then…. wHoops.

As I often do, I headed down to the water and encouraged Belle to come with me, and explore it for herself.

We have had many dogs in our lives who absolutely loved swimming.

Belle does not.

But I’m holding out hope, because it is very fun and I think she would have a blast… which I realize is such a mom-type thing to say. I mean, I think you would love it so… love it dammit!

It’s never too late for therapy.

Anyway, I brought Belle down to the water’s edge and I have to say, I was pretty psyched that she decided to investigate more closely than she usually does. But then this happened…

Yep. The water tried to get her.

Kind of part-in-parcel to the whole ocean, wave-y thing.

But it was a calm day, and she actually collected herself and made another move closer… Like, really close…

Oh I know!

Look at that brave little hownd!

I was so proud.

Once an Oklahoma girl, bird-doggin’ it in the back country, and suddenly I was looking at a brave Maine dawg, taking on the coast!

And then the water tried to get her again…

That.

Is a very accusatory face.

Um, you said it was SAFE!

Then…

Uh oh.

How could it be worse?!

Oh wait.

There it is.

The Side-Eye of Betrayal.

Lower the head, slide the eyes to the side, and – yes, it happened – humph when you walk by.

On the way home we had a talk, and I think I understand.

The Water That Comes and Gets You is not okay water.

It is never going to be okay water.

I should get used to it, just accept it.

Stop trying to make it anything else but un-okay water.

I agreed.

Totally fine.

I get it.

Please stop giving me the dang side-eye.

Eventually, about an hour later, she let me toss a toy for her. I mean, she didn’t go get it, but she watched it go so… progress.

I’m pretty sure we are fine.

I mean, we are fine.

Totally, one hundred percent fine.

No issues…

What. So. Ever.

None.

.

.

.

I figure I have until June to figure out how to tell her about the new boat.

Thanks for readin’.

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