Beach bums

I have enjoyed the past week camping beside the sea, there are just a handful of guests, (three including myself as I write this) occasionally someone passes through, but they're on their way somewhere and only stay for a night. The two more permanent residents have something in common with me, both have left their regular jobs and come south to where you can still go sunbathing in November. Both are older than me and this lifestyle is part of the 'final plan' so to speak, they've figured out that in one case migrating south for the winter is good for all sorts of health reasons and can work enough via the internet to keep earning just enough. The other case involves a desire to make distance between lives here and at home in order to bring quiet to the soul. 
The animal inhabitants of the site are far more lively, especially two little characters who I have grown very fond of in the past seven days...

The puppies.

I'm not sure how old they are, where exactly they are from or for that matter who actually owns them but these two little troublemakers have made my stay here quite special. Over the week I've learned that (something that sounds like) 'Lookie' and 'Bookie' were found as abandoned puppies living in the closed beachside kantina by some campers over the summer and brought back to the site. These campers subsequently left and the puppies were 'adopted' by the owners, the workers and the campers on a communal basis. In short everyone feeds these dogs. The picture above is the typical turnout when anyone is eating.

I'm sooooo huuuuuunnnggrryyyyyyy, feed me plz?

The funny thing is, in spite of finding the neediness irritating and being kind of allergic to them, the puppies have really grown on me, the larger one has even adopted me and comes for long walks along the nearby peninsula. Last night she even tried to follow me along the 3km dark and dangerous main road to the supermarket and whimpered when I took her back.
So aside from the hungry pleadingly desperate countenance every time I as much as think about food and they way they try to break through the fabric into my tent in the night to make a puppy cuddle-pile with me I've grown really rather fond of them and them of me.

 They are either eating, playing or sleeping. Most games involve chasing after each other to gain possession of an object that is invariably some decomposing matter they found along the beach or under a bush. There are several stages to this game: the presentation of the object by one party, the acknowledgement of its value by the other, this is done by a series of nods. Finally the chase is initiated by the holder of the item waving the item and beginning to run. Wrestling and barking at strangers is also popular.

Then there's the gifts, in the past few days I have been presented with a rotting fish, an old sponge, a dead toad, two apparently drowned rats and the skin of a hedgehog. Usually these are presented outside my tent or on the kitchen step when I'm cooking.

I will be sad to leave these two behind tomorrow, the affection they show in exchange for the odd pat, kind word or a morsel of food is astounding. In a world that seems very daunting and unforgiving right now, the companionship of the puppies has been most therapeutic and no doubt has changed me a little.

Goodnight!