Who knows what adventures a Frenchie female of a certain age has filed away in her little leather book of memories? We feel sure that Nanna must have known the thrill of the open sea, though, and felt the salt against her nose and the whisk of sand and sea foam against her fur. Looking at her as she dreamily relives those moments in the harbor just before casting off or perhaps floating serenely along a wide river's current, we remember that none of us can know another's love for a thing or the joy they feel in recalling it.
Sail on, silver girl!
We're with you, Nanna. There's "nothing half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats" murmurs
The Frog Princess