So yesterday was the first day I returned to the dog beach since
the day the water turned brown.
I didn't want to go.
But Harlow insisted.
And when Harlow wants something, you might as well forget all other plans for the day.
I'll be sitting at my desk and he will continually try to climb in my lap,
slap my leg with his paw,
or just howl at the top of his lungs.
So I really had no other choice.
But I didn't put on my swimsuit, because I was not getting in that dirty water.
Once we got out there Harlow ran across the beach like he was Andy Dufresne
just released from prison.
And if you don't know that Shawshank reference we can never really be true friends...
Anyway,
I instantly felt bad I had kept him away for so long.
He was literally jumping vertically in the air he was so excited to be there.
He took off for the water and I stayed on the beach to watch.
Did I mention it was 104 degrees here yesterday?
So it started to get a little hot.
And I soon noticed every other owner was in the water...
Harlow noticed too.
He was bouncing up to every person in the lake begging them to play,
but of course they were all too busy with their own pups.
Dogs are like kids, they get absolutely ecstatic
when they see their parent playing in the water.
So Harlow would run between the water,
and then back to me on the beach to see what was up.
And then I thought, what am I doing?
This is ridiculous.
Everyone else in the water seemed to look okay,
and it's not like I've ever been one to let a little shit get in my
way of having fun.
So like a fat kid at day camp, I got in the water,
tank top, running shorts, and all.
And Harlow was thrilled. So was I.
That is until I saw Harlow's new friend, Captain, approach the shitposish next to us,
and I got the hell out of there before I could see the outcome.
On our way home from the beach I stopped at Trader Joe's to pick up a watermelon.
And once at home I was instantly reminded why I only buy one watermelon a year.
the day the water turned brown.
I didn't want to go.
But Harlow insisted.
And when Harlow wants something, you might as well forget all other plans for the day.
I'll be sitting at my desk and he will continually try to climb in my lap,
slap my leg with his paw,
or just howl at the top of his lungs.
So I really had no other choice.
But I didn't put on my swimsuit, because I was not getting in that dirty water.
Once we got out there Harlow ran across the beach like he was Andy Dufresne
just released from prison.
And if you don't know that Shawshank reference we can never really be true friends...
Anyway,
I instantly felt bad I had kept him away for so long.
He was literally jumping vertically in the air he was so excited to be there.
He took off for the water and I stayed on the beach to watch.
Did I mention it was 104 degrees here yesterday?
So it started to get a little hot.
And I soon noticed every other owner was in the water...
Harlow noticed too.
He was bouncing up to every person in the lake begging them to play,
but of course they were all too busy with their own pups.
Dogs are like kids, they get absolutely ecstatic
when they see their parent playing in the water.
So Harlow would run between the water,
and then back to me on the beach to see what was up.
And then I thought, what am I doing?
This is ridiculous.
Everyone else in the water seemed to look okay,
and it's not like I've ever been one to let a little shit get in my
way of having fun.
So like a fat kid at day camp, I got in the water,
tank top, running shorts, and all.
And Harlow was thrilled. So was I.
That is until I saw Harlow's new friend, Captain, approach the shitposish next to us,
and I got the hell out of there before I could see the outcome.
On our way home from the beach I stopped at Trader Joe's to pick up a watermelon.
And once at home I was instantly reminded why I only buy one watermelon a year.
Because they are a pain in the ass to cut.
I will most definitely be paying the extra money to buy precut next time.
That sucker took me at least 25 minutes.
And note to self: don't give Harlow watermelon.
I put a few pieces in his bowl, and naturally he pulled the pieces
from his bowl and took them to eat in the living room
(because eating from his dog bowls is far too animalistic for him)
and proceeded to suck on them, then spit them out on the white carpet,
and then eat them.
I read somewhere that some dogs have identity issues if you treat them too human like
and they will actually start to think they are humans rather than dogs.
I told Harlow this and his response was,
"what's a dog?"
Oh, that Harlow.
Too bad Marley and Me was already written,
because I could make a killing on Harlow and Me.
