Scylla’s view
Hello. It’s me, Scylla. This month’s message is simple – I like it here – lots.
Last month there were rules. Signs. Fences. Beaches that said no dogs — even when it was cold and empty and clearly nobody would mind. Lots more walking in towns and on pavements. I didn’t understand that at all.
This month is different. Every day is a beach day. And not just any beach. Apparently it’s near somewhere called St Tropez, which I gather is quite posh. What matters to me is this: the sand goes on forever, the water is clear, and hardly anyone else turns up.
We go out three times a day. Always early, when the light is soft and the world smells fresh. Then later, when the sun warms my back. I get lots of time off the lead. We play splash and catch. I think my humans get bored a long time before I do but I win. Obviously.
Something else has changed too. I used to get impatient when my mum and dad stopped walking. Sitting down felt like wasted time. But now I see the point. The air, the sounds, the feeling of being exactly where you’re meant to be. I even start the sitting sometimes, just to show them I’ve understood. It’s fun when they join me – I’m finally getting them trained!
The human lens
Scylla’s wellbeing was a big part of why we stayed. She thrives on routine, and here she has everything within a hundred metres: woods, beach, familiar paths. The difference in her is unmistakable. She’s calm, clearly settled, and deeply content.
Watching her has been a lesson in its own right. Thriving doesn’t always require novelty. It often requires safety, rhythm, and space to be yourself. Staying put isn’t just proving good for us — it is clearly the right call for her.
