This morning's high tide was pretty impressive; the debris left behind less so. At Blackpill it's hard to tell where the beach ends and the prom begins.
And these shells must have decided there was safety in numbers
On our way back along the beach George decided to roll in something - I have no idea what. Actually it wasn't so much a roll as an all-over body massage. Walking back up the road, even in open air with a breeze I had to keep my face turned away from him for fear of being overcome by fumes.
I've bathed him and not only does he still smell but so do I now, in spite of wearing rubber gloves. I need some doggy deodorant.
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