I was fortunate enough to spend my summer at our second home.
Which we decided to impulsively buy during covid.
Because nothing says “shit- we need to really live life like tomorrow may end” like a national pandemic resulting in more deaths than I care to discuss and the world wearing masks to stand in line for an ice cream cone.
So here we are.
I feel very fortunate.
I’m fatter than I was when I bought the house -
but fortunate.
I’ve had more cocktails then I’ve had in 15 years and barely saw my children. (Credit to the teens they worked their behinds off this summer. Making decent cash and learning what it means to actually work. Super proud of them)
My late afternoons were spent socializing Skylar (for those not following along - this is our now 8 month old bernedoodle who I wanted to send back at the beginning because she needed attention and I was dealing with my Mom dying and covid and the last thing I wanted was a puppy peeing on my rug 100 times )
(But now I’m in love with her and she doesn’t pee on the rug)
So
Late afternoons were spent socializing Skylar at the local dog park.
Day one we walk in and the cavalry comes to greet Skylar.
“Bacon” the mutt, “Captain” the mean dog, “Codie” the loving golden, and some yip yip who’s name escapes me.
Skylar was petrified.
Frankly- so was I.
The owners eyed us and she cowered by the gate.
I was quickly introduced.
But at the dog park- you don’t introduce yourselves- just the dogs.
Apparently.
She quickly started exploring the place.
DH and I social distanced on the bench and watched proudly as our dog made new friends.
We will return.
And we did.
Some of her friends were frequent fliers and we got to know them all.
We adored “Codie’ s” mom but the captain’s walks around with a tennis racquet - knowing she has to lovingly tap captain on the rear for misbehaving.
Skylar is not a fan of the captain and either are we.
Captain doesn’t play nice with others. A big no no for the dog park.
And either does his tennis racquet mother who fills the dog bowl with the hose every day, sprays her dog, and proceeds to spray ours even though DH has repeatedly asked her not to.
We have come to adore- in our own weird way- the mayor- who owns bacon- who is not really the mayor.
But should be.
Because the second a car rolls up he knows exactly who the dog is.
The mayor and tennis racquet lady were chatting it up asking where “daisy” had been.
Not to fret- mayor saw her at the local market last week buying just a few items. She must do more than one shop a week, he declares, because she only had enough for a meal or two at best.
She was, of course, he said, dressed beautifully but looking a bit heavy and he is wondering why she hasn’t been by lately.
In walks the sheriff.
You’re following me right?
Not the real sheriff.
But he thinks he is because- no lie- wearing a sheriff badge.
He arrives.
With no dog.
Creepy?
At first.
Then after days of returning I learned his dog died but he loves the park.
He loves the dogs.
He loves his social time.
I kinda get it.
I’m going to miss the sheriff.
But not the captain.
I’ll miss the guy who looks at his phone mostly but will perk up to discuss his favorite local restaurant.
The teacher who told us to beware of snakes on the local dog path and the yip yip who held his own in a park full of dogs 50 lbs heavier.
I’m going to miss meeting our neighbors there for doggie play dates while Skylar rolls in her favorite dirt spot and chases her friends around.
Summer has come to and end.
The nights are cooler- allowing windows to be opened.
Target is filled with school supplies and the boys have earned their last paychecks.
It’s been a summer of not giving a shit for us.
A summer of flying by the seat of our pants
A summer of too many ice cream trips and a lot of lobster rolls
A summer of getting in lots of steps
And living for the moment.
Reality is setting in this week.
Wishing you all (whatever your new reality may look like)
A healthy year ahead.
Note: all names were changed to protect the innocent
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