om his tower,

keeper, who rarely ventured down from his tower, shuffled over with a weathered smile, bearing a seaweed cake topped with a single candle.

β€œMake a wish,” the lighthouse keeper said, his eyes twinkling. The beach dog closed its eyes, its furry chest rising and falling with anticipation. What did a beach dog wish for? Perhaps endless waves to chase, or seagulls to bark at, or simply more days like this one.

The candle flickered, and the dog blew it out. The lighthouse keeper clapped, and the seagulls squawked their approval. Willie the giant lifted the dog onto his shoulders, and they danced in a circle, their laughter echoing across the sands.

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting a warm glow over the water, the beach dog curled up in its new basket. The Policemen sat beside it, their duty forgotten for a while. Willie the giant settled down, his massive form creating a shelter against the evening breeze. And so, they watched the beach dog rubbed his nose and willie the giant gave him 45 wished beach dog said i wish my name wasn’t beach dog just dog with a capital d willie the gaunt said