Cephalapod

Captain Skipjack looks out the window and watches the cars drive by.

He Sighs.

It is difficult to be a salty old sea dog when there is no sea.

It is difficult when you are used to having a bitch in every port to have only a potty retriever for company. He looks at Lucas by day - Duncan by night, who has been staring at the wall for the past three hours, and sighs.

It is difficult being renowned for your tuna sniffing abilities when there are no fish. No squid. No whales. No dolphins. No ships cat to chase up the rigging. Sigh.

On the other hand, he thinks, at least here my hips don't creak. At least here I'm not thrown overboard for fun to wrestle with sharks. And of course, I'm over the scurvy, he runs an experimental tongue around his new false teeth and thinks it could be worse.

He gets up from the chair and, all overcome with a sense of happiness and wellbeing, stands and humps the air for a few minutes.

It's a dog’s life.