We were walking along the shore. The sea was rough at the time. I must have only been around six years old, but I remember it vividly. I’ve always been drawn to the wild nature of the sea. My mum was playing fetch with the dog, throwing the tennis ball down the beach. On one throw a gust of wind diverted the ball onto the water. The dog went into the sea to retrieve the ball, but the waves carried the ball further out, my mum shouted and chased after her but she was too fixated on getting the ball. The tide carried her out quickly. We stood alone on the beach watching our dog’s head bob up and down in the water like a buoy. She held me as I cried, I was young, but I was fully aware of aware of what was happening to our dog. This was my first experience of feeling helpless and small. After what seemed like an eternity, I turned away from the comfort of my mother’s hold to look out to sea. Our dog was lost to the sea.