Expertly, Mr Dog caught the treat and crunched it quickly. Mmm, not bad, he thought. But one treat is never enough! He danced on his back legs to encourage the skipper to throw another.

      His plan worked! Another treat came sailing through the air …

      And a white blur swooped down and snatched it!

      ‘Hey!’ Mr Dog frowned at a seagull as it landed on the other side of the boat and the treat vanished down its yellow beak.

      John laughed. ‘Too slow, my friend.’

      ‘That was mine!’ Mr Dog told the seagull.

      ‘Sorry, old sport,’ the bird replied with a screech. ‘Finders keepers. There’s not much food to be had on the beach today; the humans are cleaning it up.’

      ‘Are they, indeed?’ Curious, Mr Dog forgot his stomach and looked towards the golden beach. It nestled at the bottom of a large sloping hill that showed off the town’s streets and houses to the sea. There were lots of children holding black bin liners down on the sand, some of them with grabbers on the end of sticks, while adults watched and organised.

      ‘They’re picking up everything,’ said the gull. ‘Rope, bits of net, fishing lines … and plenty of the plastic rubbish that washes up on the shore.’

      ‘That’s good,’ said Mr Dog. ‘That pollution makes a mess and hurts animals.’

      ‘True.’ The gull nodded. ‘It’s just a shame they clear up all of the food that’s been left behind too.’

      ‘I think you’d better make yourself scarce,’ Mr Dog warned the gull as one of John’s two-man crew – a skinny young man named Sadiq – waved an arm to shoo the bird away.

      With