Today, I was able to take my 10 months old Chocolate Labrador, Chewie, to the beach to enjoy a play with one of her Black Labrador sisters’.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning; a hint of coolness still in the air. I wore my red, checkered (“bogan”) shirt over my rashie for some added warmth. Since my board shorts don’t have any pockets, I stuffed a doggy poo bag, dog treat snap-lock bag and my car keys in my two small shirt pockets.

The water looked so calm and inviting. There were about 8 Labradors and other medium sized dogs playing on the beach. Chewie’s sister, who I will call Ruby, ran up to Chewie when we started walking towards the group of dogs and their owners. After a short sniff, they both went crazy with excitement. They were chasing each other, oblivious to everything and everyone around them, with a few unfortunate people getting bumped into on their merry chase.

The group of dogs played, chasing thrown toys, chasing each other, going in and out of the water for a swim and retrieving toys. They were enjoying the rare freedom of being themselves without the imposed restrictions of leads, fenced-in backyards or the insides of a home. Gradually, most of the owners and their dogs headed home until only Chewie and Ruby were left on the beach.

The two sisters played with each other, had a quick rest, played again, went for a swim together, chased each other and tumbled around madly on the sandy beach.

Ruby was accompanied by my friend and her teenage daughter. The three of us walked slowly towards the carpark end of the beach. Chewie and Ruby continued playing at the other end, until we finally called them to come.

The daughter and I went for a swim, while Chewie and Ruby swam towards us and then back to the shore again for a shake. It was wonderful to be in the coolness of the water. We felt so alive.

Soon it was time to get ready to leave. I washed some of the sand off Chewie and grabbed my shirt and towel where I had left them on the sand. I searched my shirt pockets for my car keys, but they were not where I had left them. I started looking half-heartedly around in the sand. There was a lot of sand and no keys. I couldn’t even pin-point the exact position where my towel and shirt had been.

My friend and her daughter helped me look as well as a couple who had just come down to the beach for a swim. My friend, her daughter and I re-traced our steps towards the other end of the beach. I felt it was a lost cause, but silently said a hurried prayer to St Anthony, finder of lost things. I wanted to ring my hubby to bring down my spare car keys and maybe help me search, but my friend insisted that she would drive me home and pick up my spare keys.

The three of us walked as far to the other end of the beach as I thought I had gone previously, then turned around and walked back towards the carpark side. As my friend and I were walking, I remembered an occasion when I had been in a similar predicament. It was in Germany, when I was about 8 years old. My slightly older sister and I had played hide and seek with our two second cousins in their little hay-filled shed. I was responsible for the safe-keeping of our house key. My sister and I went home after our play only to realise that I didn’t have the key. Mum told us we had to go back to the hay shed and find it. My sister and I ran back to the hay shed and the four of us just looked at all the hay to search through. We did not know where to start. Our younger second cousin, who was about 6, said matter of factly: “Ok, let’s start searching” (in German of course!) She knelt at a spot and started moving her fingers through the hay, and what seemed miraculous, found our house key. We were all amazed! Since she had found the key so quickly, my sister and I decided we could stay and play for a while longer before we needed to go home.

My friend and I had a good laugh as I recounted the story. What struck me after our laugh was that all was not yet lost. I still had an opportunity to find my keys. I said to my friend that I didn’t feel I had dropped the keys along that stretch of the beach, but closer to where I had taken off my shirt and gone for a swim. and she felt the same way. I put the lead on Chewie and told her with new found resolve: “Come on Chewie, lets find my keys. You are going to help me find them.” Chewie and I went ahead to the area on the wet sand between where I had put my shirt and gone for a swim. I started scanning the area for something not usually part of the beach. Suddenly, I spotted something odd-looking and as I walked up to the area on the wet sand, lo and behold, there lay my keys.The joy I felt! I hugged my friend and thanked the heavens. It seemed miraculous to me again. My friend surmised that I found my keys because of my resolve to find them. I wasn’t sure whether it was by my resolve or what I would call heavenly assistance.

What do you think?

Thank you!