Well trained

Rosscarbery beach was deserted when I arrived this afternoon. I wandered along its crescent line: the sea raging against the cliffs; wind-lines etched across the sand; half-buried, wet mussels looking like lapis lazuli.

When I had gone as far as I could, I turned back. A figure was walking at the far end of the beach, with two dogs. One of them - a little black fellah - started down the strand towards me, followed by a massive grey sheep-woolly poodle (complete with pom pom tail). They hared over, circled me twice, stopped to be rubbed hello. Satisfied, they took off again, but instead of returning to their owner they ran straight for the car park.

The solitary figure watched them leave, and then he abandoned his walk; following obediently with slow, heavy steps.