We are back in the water, whew. Yesterday we loaded a few children, dogs and responsible adults onto a tug boat and ventured over to the Toronto Islands. The nude beach on Hanlan's Point is one of the more interesting features of Toronto's waterfront scene. On any given day, hundreds of naked gay men can be found showcasing their hardware on the long expanse of sandy beach. And the Yorkie, no stranger to gay culture, is happy to prance among men, splashing and cavorting in the water with the best of them. As we pull up to dock on the wall, his nose starts twitching and the whining begins in earnest. The synapses start firing in his brain like cheerios bumping together in a bowl of milk: 'We have returned to the magical place where the love that dare not speak its name can yell and shout and bark out loud." When I toss him off the boat, he's off in a flash, like a one dog pride parade on poppers. Sadie sits demurely on the beach, spaced out on sun and sand and the Joan Baez songs playing in her head.
