How To Look Like A Total Ass at the Beach With Your Dogs

I have been wanting to take my dogs to the beach for a long time. I thought that this would be a brilliant idea because I already love the beach and what could make it better except to be at the beach with dogs! Yes my mind was atwitter with shimmering visions of splashing in the ocean with my dogs and then laying on the beach as they recovered from the exhaustive ocean romp.

I was finally able to realize this beachy doggy dream the other week when I had a rare day off. Not only did I get to take my dogs to the beach, but also I learned how to look like an absolute moron while doing it. Yeah. So, here are my tips if you too are so inclined as to look like stupidass at the beach with your dogs.

(Before we begin I should mention that you get bonus points if you happen to take your dogs to the beach on the absolute hottest fucking day of the year because it makes every one of these points just that more brilliant.)

Make sure that you have to spend at least an hour in the car with your dog to get to the beach.

american eskimo dog

One of the few moments he turned to face me.

Since I like to do things over and above the watermark of stupid I live about an hour and a half from the beach but whether it’s one hour or three you’ll want to use this time to already begin to question your sanity at attempting this trip. The easiest way to do this is to make sure that at least one of your dogs have no car manners. In my case two out of the three dogs that I took on this excursion spent the entire ninety minutes trying to create as much havoc as possible by alternately trying to drive the car (Lily)** and attempting to balance on the middle console despite being the size of a small wolf (Seamus)–the latter of which resulted in long stretches of me having my dog’s ass in my face as I was in the back seat.

Hottest fucking day of the year bonus: During the drive you get no air conditioning because your dogs stick their faces in the A/C vents and hog it all for themselves.

(**Lily was not allowed in the driver’s seat which is extremely dangerous and upsets me whenever I see someone let their dog do this but that did not stop her from trying.)

Have one more dog than the number of people in your party.

Most people seem to only have one dog in their family but I call them pussies. If you want to look like a true ass at the beach then you bring more dogs than you can physically handle. I now have two dogs and I will tell you that it is exponentially easier to look like an ass while trying to control two dogs than it is with only one–especially since one of the dogs has not been trained by me since they were a puppy. I will admit though that I did have my mother with me and could pass off a leash to her while I untangled myself from my dogs’ attempts to mummify me with their leashes but since she still had to contend with the third dog in our crew it was still acceptable.

Hottest fucking day of the year bonus: The sand between the parking lot and the ocean is scorching and you have to carry to carry your dogs over it so that they don’t burn the pads of their paws.

Make sure your dogs won’t go in the water. At all.

You’ve brought your dogs all the way to the beach in a cramped car, carried their pampered asses over the sand and deposited them in front of the cool refuse of the ocean. Now you can watch as all three of them–including the one who loves water and always leaps into creeks like a little furry frog–scatter away from the water as if you were trying to drop them into Tabasco sauce. If you’re really lucky then the largest of your dogs will be so freaked out that he jumps into your arms and digs his claws into your tender flesh.

Hottest fucking day of the year bonus: You had planned on your dogs getting cool by going in the water and now feel like an asshole because they’re hot.

Buy the shittiest umbrella that $5 can get you.

Your dogs won’t go in the water but the good news is that you have an umbrella which snaps in half as soon as you try to shove it in the sand in an attempt to at least provide your dogs some shade.
Another reason you want your umbrella to be shitty is because…

The dog beach is bay-side where the wind whips across the water with massive fury.

The wind will rip that shitty umbrella right out of the sand and send you scrambling down the scorching beach with your arms outstretched and flailing like a drunken Frankenstein.

Hottest fucking day of the year bonus: the combination of heat with the high winds makes it feel like you’re in a massive convection oven.

Have a dog with a deceptively large mane.

He’ll manage to get out of his collar and you can go from chasing an umbrella like a drunken Frankenstein to chasing your dog like a drunken Frankenstein.

Hottest fucking day of the year bonus: Running. Duh.

Be so concerned with keeping the sun off of your dogs that you don’t apply sunscreen to several large areas on your back.

I look like I have vitiligo.

Hottest fucking day of the year bonus: Burns hurt worse in the heat. It’s a Kat fact which means that I said it so it’s true.

Have you fluky heart–which has been a complete trooper during this–finally say “What the fuck you are doing you moron? That’s it! Pass out on the hot sand right now!”

And though I didn’t completely lose consciousness it was nonetheless magical.

Pack up after two hours and take your dogs for ice cream.

american eskimo dogs

“Where’s the ice cream???”

They deserve it after all of the energy they put in to helping you look like a stupidass.

In closing, sometimes I even astound myself at my ability to create clusterfucks.

The Sky Was Storming But the Watermelon was Everclear

Number 24 on The List of Shameless Shit is “Share a struggle you have yet to “just get over.””  This could be a real downer of a prompt, but homegirl don’t play that.  Instead I’m going to tell you about the beach adventure that I had with my brother this past weekend.

I’m guessing that it’s because I now do so much work from home that I want to be completely out of the house and away from my computer when I don’t have to be around to go in to my pay-the-bills job.  Oddly enough the place that I keep wanting to visit is the beach.  While many of my favourite childhood memories involve staying at my grandmother’s shore house and going on the beach with my cousins, I haven’t been a beach fan in over a decade.  I’ve long ago given up on self-analysis though, so even if this change seemed weird, I just rolled with it.

The forecast for this past weekend had been threatening massive storms, but the worst rain that we seen so far was on Saturday when a little shower had blown through early and left the rest of the day sunny.  Sunday started out the same way–with a shower in the morning–but by 11am it was sunny again.  The beach was calling to me, and after a round of pleas and threats, I was finally able to convince my brother to take a shore trip with me.

We didn’t get on the beach until about 2:30, but the late arrival and semi-cloudy sky worked to our benefit because there were hardly any people to step over as we picked a spot to camp out.  The only issue with the late arrive though was that the tide was coming in and this would possibly mess with my beach plans: to make The Red Keep, one of the castles from A Game of Thrones.

Geeks take their geekiness even to the beach, you see.

My brother, however, had an equally geeky idea about how to give me more time to build my castle, namely by building another GoT landmark: The Wall.

the wall, sand castle, game of thrones

I like how he even labeled it “Wall”.

Much like it’s namesake, The Wall did protect the realm of my castle as the tide started to come in.  And if you are reeling from nerd-overload already, this will send you right over the edge because every time a large wave barreled toward the shore we would scream, “WINTER IS COMING!”  Or if it was a particularly foamy wave we would howl about The Wall protecting us from the White Walkers.

(Shut up.)

Unfortunately the tide didn’t play fair and there was a cross-current that came from the side of The Wall and began to erode The Red Keep before I was even a third of the way finished.

sand castle

“The White Walkers” have surrounded The Red Keep and have begun to destroy it.

After the second wave of “White Walkers” the walls were crumbling and the largest towers had fallen.  I was undeterred though.  I knocked down a few towers myself and declared that the castle was now Harrenhall.

(Pound for pound this is pretty much the geekiest I’ve been in some time.)

sand castle

The ruined castle of Harrenhall.

My brother and I had done all that we could do to save the castle, so we moved on to playing Washers.  We had no sooner set up the washer boxes when the sky opened up with a downpour that would have sent Noah to building another Ark.  I wasn’t wearing a bathing suit so I wrapped myself in a towel while my brother held a sheet over his head until he gave it up for a bad job and let himself get soaked.  For a good twenty minutes we were pummeled with rain, and when it finished everything was saturated–except me (haha-thank you towel).  The funniest part though was that The Wall and Harrenhall made it (kinda) through the storm.

beach after rain

My brother inspecting the remains.

We resumed our game of Washers and then looked over to see that a rainbow had appeared over the ocean.  I have better pics on my camera, but here’s what my brother managed to capture with his phone.

rainbow at the beach

There must be GOLD in the Music Pier!

And then a leprechaun appeared and while he didn’t give us gold, he gave us the next best thing: grain alcohol.

Seriously.

Okay, it wasn’t really a leprechaun, it was one of the guys from the group who had been beaching next to us, but he was rather round and jolly and he really did give us a watermelon filled with Everclear.  My brother and I didn’t have knives, but did that stop us from eating the watermelon?  Nope.  We tore the watermelon apart with our fucking bare hands and ate it.  By the time we were finished, the already drenched beach blanket was further soaked in Watermelon-Everclear juice.  It was a lot of fun to haul the sticky, soaking lot of blankets, towels and bag back to the car, but all in all it was a pretty kickass day.

So what does this all have to do with No. 24 my List of Shameless Shit?  Well, that sea water surrounding my sand castle?  That was the first bit of the Atlantic Ocean that I’ve let touch my skin since I was eighteen.  Without wasting too much space with details, next week will be the anniversary of the day that I was at the shore and came down with a fever that would eventually burn so hot that it would cause brain damage and destroy my memory.  The doctors had told my mother that I must have caught something from the ocean and as a result I’ve had a panic attack whenever I’ve been on the beach and the water came near me.  This my No. 24 because I’m not over my fear of catching a fever from the ocean.

But I’m getting there.

(And because I’m emo, I took the rainbow as present from God for a job well started.)