the year is over

So 2010 is over.  I don't know what a 2010,  but it has been very busy here.

The other night there were big parties and I don't care if you call them terrorists or tourists,  there were BIG explosions.

Mum couldn't fit under the bed with me but she coped.



   

There are people and dogs everywhere.

This is the Copa side on a quiet day.  And just as many  tourists have crossed the invisible line over to Macs.  There are  too many.

This is a quiet evening on the lagoon.  There is a type of tourist who comes out at night and sit on the beach and drink beer. 

I saw Lord Clarence down the beach.
It seems he has been having a tough time of it, what with all the people and strange dogs and being a very regal handsome man hound.

 We tried to have a run, but it was almost impossible.  There is little space and we arnt the type of hounds to downgrade to ducking around people.

I try to have a hound surf , but that is hard as well.

The tourists keep dropping in on my waves

However the BIGGEST and Most ANNOYING  problems is,  that it seems these non locals have never seen a greyhound or if they have it hasn't  been as elegant and as buff as Lord Clarence and me.  I cant speak for Clarence and his experiences, but they are similiar to mine.

People (the tourists) are forever stopping me and mum and they say,

"  OOOh what sort of a dog is she?"

" Oh can I pat her?"

"Wow she can really chase a ball!"

"Can I pat her"

"Isn't she a great surf dog?"

"Can I pat her? "

"Wow she can really run fast!"

" Can I pat her?

And then when I thought I had put up with it all and my skin would fall off through all the patting,   some people started taking photos of me.

The last straw came when I was just standing  and my Serina Williams butt and my shiny coat were looking the usual spectacular and   I saw the crowd and the cameras and I realized I had had enough.
There was no respect for my privacy.

I mean there is a duty to my public and then there is a duty to me and mum



So from now on, until all these tourists leave, I have to go down to the beach incognito.

And I told mum she has to as well, because as soon as they see her, they know I am around.

The whole thing is very exhausting. The responsibility of being the Layne Beachley hound of Macs means  there is nothing I can do, but cope with it until the holidays are over, and I can get my beach and my lagoon but even more my  "me " time back.

Such a burden.