Once A Working Dog Always A Working Dog

“Lucy!”

A piercing whistle sounded from his pursed lips.

“Lucy, come.  It’s time to go.”  He headed away from the water’s edge toward the parking lot, scanning the sand dunes for the appearance of a black and white dog.  Behind him the sun was setting.  Above him a lone seagull circled.

He and Lucy had this stretch of the beach to themselves and he had let her off the leash.  He spotted her running back and forth, occasionally voicing a bark.

“What did you find?” 

To his amazement Lucy was shepherding a group of baby sea turtles toward the ocean.