Hitting The Sand

To break up the monotony of walking out in the big field every afternoon, we went to the beach. My sister had initially suggested it, and I had been thinking it all along, so it worked out well.

It was HOT. I guess we didn't realize how hot it was, initially. But, we spent a good amount of time there, walking up and down the desolate part of the beach.

I absolutely love this photo. Marge was standing up on the old building ruins, and the lighting aligned just right so that she almost became a silhouette. The sky looks gorgeous, too!

Here's another picture of her posing. She climbed by herself on to something higher later on, and took a pretty nasty tumble when she tried to jump down. She seemed okay, though - she looked like she was most upset about getting sand in her mouth.

I realized once we had gotten there that I had forgotten to bring Marge's water bowl. I did have a bottle of water with me, but nothing to give it to her in. She won't drink out of the bottle or out of my hands - she's afraid I'm going to wet her with it. So, a big, clean, empty sea shell was the only thing I could think of. It was way too hot for her to not have any water. It worked smashingly. Talk about making the best of it with what you have!

Here's the surf near the end of our trip. Once again, Marge didn't want to go any where near these rocks. It was too bad, because sitting on them with the water splashing near our feet was a pretty cool experience. It'd be a good spot to just go and relax at.

By that point, it was pretty evident that Marge was done. It was warm for her, and we all know that Marge's patience runs low in the heat. One more recall, and we went home.

On the schedule tonight: thunderstorms! An opportunity for conditioning. We had some pretty loud bangs before, and I am glad to report that Marge did not completely run away, though she was scared. I'm armed with a cup of kibble and I'll send them flying at her any time the thunder rumbles.

Tomorrow, we're hoping to finally get back to the woods, after months of absence. Later on, Marge will go for a bath. Something tells me she'll like the first thing better.