Cooper and I walked (part of) the Pebble Beach course today. We walked a bigger part of it on Tuesday. It wasn’t as gorgeous today because it’s a little hazy, so the hills just southeast of Carmel were a bit blurry and flat as opposed to sharp and full of depth and detail as they were on Tuesday. But it was fun anyway. It’s on bluffs overlooking the ocean and Carmel Bay, so it’s a pretty dazzling place for a stroll, even with all the pesky people messing around with sticks and balls and buzzy little carts.
Actually the people are rather nice though. I always expect them to be parody millionaires, sniffing out my alien nature and ordering me to leave, but instead they get all googly over Cooper.
Cooper’s a fortunate dog, safe at home dropping sand on the carpet. Other dogs are not so lucky. As we were driving the bit of 17 Mile Drive between the lodge and the visitors’ entrance (where the trick is to turn left into an obscure parking lot next to the tennis courts, impossible to find unless you know about it, which places you at the most scenic part of the course) – the car ahead stopped for no apparent reason, then I saw that a car in front of that was stopped and the driver was getting out, then I saw a little red-brown terrier racing up the road as that driver tried to catch it. The driver in front of me jumped out and tried but the terrier raced away, I was too slow to jump out and instead tried to get Cooper to quit barking, the driver behind me jumped out and tried, and the terrier raced away and off the road in the direction of the course. Oh dear. Nothing to be done, so we all resumed driving, and Cooper and I did our walk and on the return leg as we were approaching the clubhouse next to the beach there was a woman far across the lawn calling, “Gracie! Gracie!” and whistling. Uh oh, I thought, I wonder if Gracie is a little red-brown terrier. Oh dear. I kept my eye on the woman so that I could ask her, and tell her what I knew, and as we converged she called, “Have you seen a little Yorkie?” making a Yorkie-size with her hands.
Gracie’s human left the car window open a little – so that Gracie wouldn’t overheat, for crying out loud – and foolish Gracie jumped out. Oh dear. The clubhouse is quite far from the place on the road where I’d seen Gracie, and it was about 45 minutes later. The woman works there. I’ll never know if Gracie got found.