Hey! Hey! Hey! If you’re like me – a dog on Martha’s Vineyard – I bet you have all sorts of great fish tales. Here’s one of my own personal favorites:

Recently somebody left a big white bag on the lawn. It was full of exotic substances, some of which I pulled out to examine. Mom has this human hang-up of being word-obsessed, so she kept trying to name this one thing, but she couldn’t find a good name. Finally she groaned, “Ick! It’s a fish.” This might be an acronym for “Freakin’ Intoxicating Slimy Head,” for the head was the part I took a real shine to.

Proud of my treasure, I wanted to make sure everyone knew about it, by putting the aroma all over my back and face and neck, where it was easiest for other dogs to sniff (other than my butt, of course, but who would want to disguise the smell of their own butt?). So I rolled on the fish head – which was great, ’cause I could enjoy the slime and the smell at the same time. Mom tried to take it away, but I knew she just wanted to roll in it herself, which she didn’t deserve because she hadn’t found it. I did. Mine!

Eventually, in her sneaky Mom ways, she made the fish disappear. I didn’t mind too much because I was pretty saturated by that point. But then she water-boarded me and put me in solitary confinement. Actually it wasn’t the first time she water-boarded me, and actually it was worse than mere water-boarding: It was water-tubbing – and she used shampoo. She erased all of the divine smell. I was traumatized.

But she was very nice during the water-boarding and gave me some yummy liver, so I know she loves me. I think she just wanted to teach me not to show off when I have a nice fish to roll in. I should be discreet, so other dogs and humans don’t get jealous. I’ve been eagerly waiting for another fish head so I can show her what an apt pupil I am.

We dogs of Martha’s Vineyard have it so good. I’ve been off-Island, and things are not so good for dogs out there. Like consider the off-Island dog park. It is a big fenced yard full of – dirt. Just dirt. No sand dunes, no turkey poop, no compost heaps! And here’s what all the dogs there talk about: “This morning my humans took me out to pee. Then I sat in the house/crate/yard until After Work. Then they took me for a walk on a leash along the sidewalk. Wow, great sidewalk!”

Really, I am not making that up.

Perhaps you’ve heard those urban legends about off-Island dogs going to Aroma Orgies where they spray themselves with skunk concentrate or soak in manure soup. Don’t believe it. I’ve met thousands of off-Island dogs (actually I don’t count very well, but I’m sure it’s been more than four), and they all confess the highlights of their lives are the occasional pile of dead leaves with squirrel poop or, if they are really lucky, an overturned garbage can. Whereas we – the dogs of Martha’s Vineyard – have beaches.

And beach parties.

I love beach parties. Just remembering my first-ever beach party transports me back and it’s like I’m there, and oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, what a great day – I mean like a super duper great day. Let me tell you all about it. Okay, so first Mom put me in the car and we drove forever and ever and ever, and it was bumpy, bumpy, bumpy, and I thought, “This really stinks, I better get a lot of treats for this,” but I didn’t.

But that’s okay because when we finally stopped, we were at the best place on earth, which Mom called Quansoo, and there was a big tent set up near the cars and it was full of food, and some of the food was in huge trays on the ground so clearly it was intended for me – the Turkish Delight candy was especially delicious, but the pita bread wasn’t bad either, and don’t even get me started on the chicken satay. There were lots of people sitting around eating and talking and dropping morsels on the ground for me, and they all patted me and played with me. They were young and old, and tall and short, and all of them just loved me – except for Mom and the Food People, who kept chasing me away, until Mom put me on a leash, which was a bummer. She tied me to a post, while she got to eat and drink and ignore me.

But that was okay, because she tied me up right near a skinny wooden bridge, and people going to and from the Big Water all stopped and said hello to me. And oh yeah, that reminds me about the beach. Well, let me tell you, the beach was the best. The Big Water was moving all over the place and sometimes it was taller than me, and then it would bow down just like a dog, and it chased me and it let me chase it and boy was that fun, fun, fun, fun, fun. And then when it got boring, I could dig in the sand, and dig, dig, dig, dig, dig until that got boring, and then I could run back down over the bridge to the food and eat, eat, eat – that is until Mom tied me up. I hate being tied up.

But it’s okay because after eating, Mom took the leash off and we went in a kayak, and I was scared but in a really fun way, and Mom held me in the front of the kayak while some guy did all the paddling. And then on our way back, I got really brave and stood on the prow of the kayak and looked fabulous and noble and gallant – until suddenly I was upside down in the water and everyone was laughing at me.

But it’s okay because Mom got me back onto the land and I went and ate more of the food and got chased off by the mean Food People – but I didn’t care, I just went to the beach and I found a really cool thing called Dead Seagull. I had soooo much fun tossing it up in the air and watching it flip around and then land, and I’d pounce on it and chew it for a while, and then toss it up in the air and watch it flip around, and do it over and over and over and over until Mom found me and made Dead Seagull disappear. So then I played with the kids and the grown-ups and the Big Water and dug and dug and dug, and then I ran over the bridge and ate more food until Mom put the leash back on me. I hate the leash.

This time she didn’t tie me up though. She just made me sit with her and lots of other lovely people who were all very, very, very sweet to me and it was dark, and there was a big fire with people sitting around it singing, and it had interesting smells, but mostly it was really nice how sweet everyone was. I think there was more going on, but I was very tired.

And the next thing I remember I was waking up at home the following morning.

Why isn’t every day like that?

I don’t know, but we have more days like that here on Martha’s Vineyard than in the whole of off-Island put together.