Bringing the pup to the beach is good fun. She loves it, as does the boy. We have bought a nice beach tent where the little dog likes to lie in the shade, safe from the wind and sand. We move as a caravan now rather than the two lovers we once were. We have beach bags and towels and kites and sandals, coolers filled with sandwiches and snacks, lotions and sprays, changes of clothes, leashes and collars and a long corkscrew used to drill deep into the beach sand to secure the pup, and to remind the remaining hippies that we still do things the old fashioned way with dogs down in Florida.
Whatever life there still is in the oceans makes its way to the shores here in California, where the dog sniffs and digs and devours with disgusting enthusiasm. In both pictures I chose here you can't see any of it, but I speak the truth, the beaches here are littered with carcasses of all kinds.
Okay, I added a third pic. You'll see.
I guess I could have leveled the horizon.
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