the moon, the stars, and the sea
If, beneath the nose of one Miss Maisie Moon, we had placed an expertly iced cake with eight flaming candles, there are two outcomes we could have accurately predicted. 1.) The traditional dessert would have been rapidly shellacked with a secondary viscous layer we'll simply call clear frosting. And 2.) she never would have been so careless as to spill her secret birthday wish.
As it happened, we treated our girl, instead, to her first tastes of an organic chicken treat--which, not surprisingly, also acquired an instantaneous glossy sheen--and we made our best educated guess when it came to granting Maisie's deepest doggie desires: something fun, something tasty, and something downright exhilarating. Check, check, and check.
It is always fortuitous when Maisie's birthday falls on the extended Labor Day weekend, this year especially so, as high winds and rain delayed our original Sunday plans until that blissfully obligation-free Monday rolled around. Our shepherd-beagle baby is now a big girl of eight. The occasion was marked with the aforementioned wealth of savory treats and two plush toys: an interactive crescent moon with three removable, smiling stars—a particularly apropos gift for the dog who stars in this year’s published memoir, Moonlight of the Talking Dog— and a cuddly bear who, by all appearances, is a real party animal. Maisie adores presents--opening them, gnawing on them, catching them in midair as her moms engage her in lively antics. Her enjoyment did not falter throughout her entire afternoon party, then she sweetly dozed off, often with one or both of her new friends close at paw.
With Sunday relegated to the status of Party Recovery Period, we dug a little deeper into what would become Maisie's Grand Birthday Adventure. This one would be equally thrilling for Dennie and me as we'd set our sights on an uncharted destination. (Uncharted by these particular Fitzgeralds, if not the populace at large.)
It was the ideal adventure—a seaside park with expansive lawns, a sandy beach, and an old railroad bridge that had been converted into a boardwalk over the water. Despite cloudy conditions, the water reflected a brilliant blue, enticing onto its rhythmic waves numerous boaters, a pair of kayakers, and three men in wetsuits tearing through the ripples upon electric surfboards that enabled them to hover several inches above the water as they zoomed past the rest of us, controllers strapped to their hands. Breaking only for a picnic lunch, the three of us explored for hours, taking in breathtaking views, pausing at historical markers and art installations, and observing the life teeming all around us: people relaxing on benches, lounging in the grass, talking, reading, stretching; children cavorting in the sand or conjuring wild adventures on the pirate-ship-themed playground; dogs obediently keeping step with their humans, sniffing the air, smiling, cheerfully touring their holiday port of call by the dozens. Just as Maisie had. Just as she still was. We watched the seagulls too and rambled along the beach to a soothing melody of rushing waves and laughter.
We dallied on the return journey, stopping occasionally at another bench to gaze across the sea and chat. Growing tired herself, Maisie settled at our feet, no longer in a rush to go, go, go, but taking the time--for the first time--to rest and genuinely notice her surroundings. Again and again, she slowly inhaled, exhaled, savoring the salty air and observing the perpetual motion of a bustling park. Most of all, she watched the other dogs with an uncommon curiosity and fascination. Her eyes brightened, her tail twitched, and her tongue peeked out the end of a most contented smile. Maisie was truly happy...and also exhausted. After miles of hiking, hours of adventuring, and the long drive home, there was only one query that convinced our knackered backseat passenger to exit the car and make the walk all the way into the house: Do you want some ice cream? She did. And, though she lapped and lapped at the creamy confection until it was gone, for the entire duration of one late-day snack, she could barely hold her eyes open more than a squint.
That was a sign of a well-spent birthday.
Our seaside expedition made for a spectacular fourth gift in honor of our dog's special day--a frosty treat, an unexpected fifth. But that's okay. Maisie deserves this much pampering and so much more. After all, if the result is a long life of exhilarated enrichment and steadfast happiness, we'll give our girl anything she desires...even if her heart yearns for treasures so impossibly vast as the moon, the stars, and the sea.
