A Dog Called Perth by Peter Martin

Author:Peter Martin
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Arcade Publishing
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

11

PERTH HAD MADE HER BREAK for freedom in Vermont and survived. It was time for us to make our break from Florida, but when and to where remained to be seen. Reunited with her after months of painful separation, we knew only that a new beginning was in the air.

Florida’s ocean still thrilled the three of us and we made good use of it. It continued to amaze us that so many Floridians, including people who had recently taken up residence in the state, turned their noses up at the tourists from the north. They called them “snow birds” because they fled from the snow down to the sun and ocean. Smugly, the thin-blooded residents avoided the ocean, thinking it beneath them to do such a “touristy” thing as swim in it. It was much too cold, they said, too rough. You must be crazy, they told us, to swim in it in December. But we thought the madness was theirs and we swam with undiminishing pleasure. Existence in Florida never seemed richer than when the three of us cavorted on the beach, Perth disappearing into the bush while Cindy and I rode the waves in the frothy surf. We could do it for hours.

Even with the ocean and sunshine, however, there seemed little reason for us to stay on in Florida. It was dull. After her misadventures in the mysterious Vermont hinterland, Perth also thought it was stale. Except for her hunting sessions through the palmetto scrub and secret gardens of the idle rich, she had nothing to do. Life seemed to be passing us by. An ocean of events during the turbulent late sixties had come and gone, but down in the land of milk and honey we had felt scarcely a ripple. Before us spread an enervating world of lotus blossoms, a land of forgetfulness and stagnation. We all had to get out.

Another summer rolled up soon enough. We had rented a stone cottage up on the rocky Maine coast and were aching to get there. This would be the summer of all summers, with no travel, no pressing research, no bed and breakfasts, no anxiety of separation. Just wild seagulls screaming over the North Atlantic, the waves crashing against the rocks, the brightest sunshine in the clearest air imaginable, red lobster beckoning to be eaten on the rocks with melted butter, lots of swimming, delicious cool evenings by the surf, saltwater taffy to eat—it was a northern paradise. We would watch the passing of the hours and days without stress or worry. It would be Perth’s new frontier. She would explore unfettered. Catching the excitement of our talk and preparations, she was impatient to be off, breathing hard, restless, her eyes wider open than usual. This was more like it. We might all get lost up there and never find our way back to Florida.

We aimed the car north and shot up along the east coast, churning up the terrain along the shortest and fastest route I could find.

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