Lance comes to the beach

I was laying on a chair at the beach today, reading back issues of the new yorker, when I heard someone crying. I looked around, and there was Lancelot, whom I haven't seen for two weeks. I was like "dude, come here!" because he was hiding in the bushes about 15 feet away from me.

He ran over to me and then crawled under my chair (the sand is insanely hot). Then he put his head in my beach bag to see if I had any cheese (it was under there because that's the only shade on the beach). I didn't, so he looked at me and started crying again. I was like "fine, I'll go get you some cheese". I went to my room and when I came back he had taken a bite out of a few pages of my new yorker. I was like "dude, that's totally not cool". He smirked back at me and waved his tail like "hurry up and open the cheese!"
I put his cheese on a little plastic lid and he knocked it into the sand and started crying. I had to brush the sand off with my beach towel before he would eat it. I noticed one of his teeth looks a little messed up, but I don't know if I'll be able to convince him to go to a kitty dentist.

I went for a swim and when I came back Lance had bitten some holes in my water bottle and was drinking it. Luckily I had another bottle, so I let him keep that one. It was nice to have him to hang out with. I was laying on my stomach on the chair with the new yorker in the sand, and every time a breeze would blow and the pages would start to ruffle I would see this little white and orange paw come out from under the chair to smack down the page.

He might be a brat, but he's also helpful when he wants to be.