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Snowball turned up this morning and said we
should do something romantic together. I suggested scavenging at
the dump but she turned her nose up at this. After I had made
ten other excellent suggestions she insisted that instead we
take the long walk to the beach. When we got there we strolled
along the edge of the water. Snowball said that the sound of the
waves lapping upon the sands was like poetry and the sea wind
blowing across the beach was like mermaids singing songs of
love. To be honest, I was freezing cold and my paws were wet and
sandy but I agreed with her. I added that the old rusting cans
bobbing up and down on the waves were like, ‘forlorn lovers,
destined to drift separately for all eternity, like flotsam and
jetsam on the harsh ocean of life, never having the chance to
fulfill their dreams of happiness together’ - but I don’t think
she understood the metaphor. (I expect this is because she has
never experienced the sorrow of unrequited love in the way I
have.)
We then left the wet sand and made ourselves
comfortable in the long grass at the top of the beach and slept
side by side for six blissful hours. (She even snores
sensually.)
Snowball walked me home and we kissed on the
doorstep. This has been a wonderful day.
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