Arrrr, Matey! Yer in the lair of the old Sea Dog, the rough and readiest old dalmatian ever ta sail the high seas. Pull on yer favorite, super-soft Sea Dog tee
and relax with yer favorite brew to read all about the adventures and shenanigans of the Sea Dog.
In our last blog
, our beloved Sea Dog was entertaining the ship’s crew with his discovery that he could fling rats overboard by their tails. They roared with praise every time, knowing that the loyal dalmatian was slowly but surely ridding the ship of the plague of rats that was robbing their food supply and threatening to multiply out of control.
With Peter’s patient training and an endless supply of treats from his friend, the cook, Sparky quickly displayed a keen intelligence and an ever-growing supply of tricks. He mastered simple commands like “sit,” “stay,” and “fetch” so fast that Peter moved on to more advanced ideas. In no time, the Sea Dog had learned useful tasks like how to open and close a door, grab the end of a rope in his mouth and bring it to a sailor, or retrieve loose items and put them in a box.
Bill beamed with pride at the Sea Dog’s progress. “You’re a smart fella,” he would say, with a fond pat on the Sea Dog’s head. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
The monotonous days on calm seas ended one day when the pirates spotted a ship on the horizon. It seemed to be moving their way.
The next morning, it was closer.
“They’re gaining on us, Cap’n,” one of the sailors said. “Reckon they’re coming after us?”
Bill peered through the spyglass and thought he saw a tint of red where the ship’s flag would be, but it was still too far away to tell for sure.
“Gloomsday again, maybe,” he muttered, and a scowl creased his brow. “I’ve had one too many run-ins with him for a lifetime.”
“Gloomsday? That lily-livered, scurvy swine? I’d like to see him try any of his yellow-bellied scoundrel tricks on us again,” the sailor said, clenching and unclenching his fist. “Why, it was all on his account that we almost lost you — you and Sparky, too!”
At the sound of the word “Gloomsday,” the ears of the nearby sailors perked up, and in moments, the entire crew was fuming.
“A drubbing would be too good for the likes o’ him. I’d like to see him get a nice dose of the keel haul after what he done.”
The men geared up for battle while also raising the sails to catch the sea breezes and delay the approach of the other ship.
The next morning, the enemy ship was even closer. Now they could clearly see Gloomsday’s red flag with its black skull and crossbones.
“He won’t get away this time,” Bill said to himself.
The Sea Dog stretched his neck forward and sniffed the breeze, and the hackles on the back of his neck started rising. To be continued…
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