Ben and I talked about it this spring. This year will be different, we said. We will definitely get to the beach more often. We'll go on a weekday. We'll make sure of the weather. We'll get an early start. This year for sure.
Then Lucie died. And we got a new puppy. A puppy who has made great progress since we brought her home two and a half months ago. But still, a puppy. A puppy who cannot be left at home for eight hours without going outside or eating. Mainly, without eating. I feed Katie every four hours during the day. She eats each meal like she hasn't eaten in days. And, really, it takes us three hours each way to get to the beach. A nine or ten-hour day away would be more what we need. Not that it matters because we can't do it anyway.
I love Rufus and Katie. I don't know how I would get through my days without them. When I took them to the groomers last week, I had to call and see how they were doing after several hours had passed with no word. But they definitely tie us down. Ben and I are tied to the house in a way that is absolute and depressing. And it looks like we won't get to the beach at all this summer. Just like when we lived in Ohio.