A Picture is Still Worth a Thousand Words

There's a great attitude toward dogs in southern California. Maybe it's in all of California, but I can't speak for the other parts. Honestly, I can't even speak for southern California, I've been here three days. But in the places I've been, in three days, I've noticed an almost European attitude in regards to their dogs. Today, spent the afternoon at a dog-friendly beach. I was with a dog, so it was okay. It was a beautiful day today. Shocking I know because it's southern California and all, but it was a really good day for the beach. Again, shocking. Doesn't that sound like just one of the nicest ways to spend an afternoon though, chillaxin' at the beach with your favorite canine pal? Thing is, it really was. This particular dog beach is also really popular with surfers. Surfers with dogs. Enter Chet 'n Betty. Chet's the surfer. Betty is his dog. Betty is a mastiff/boxer mix. Betty is a big dog. She was also a muzzled dog. Maybe the size and the muzzle go hand in hand, I don't know. She seemed friendly enough though, but I wasn't about to get on her wrong side anyway. My dog pal was flirting it up pretty good with Betty, who is about ten times his size. He was undeterred. Even the muzzle didn't bother him. He and I chatted with Chet 'n Betty for a good while in dog beach time. Chet is a cartoon of a California surfer dude. And I mean that in the absolutely most loving way. Young. Blonde. Tan. Totally chill. He was stoked to meet us, me and my canine pal, and apparently we are completely rad. I couldn't have liked Chet 'n Betty more and I am totally bumming that I didn't take a photo of them. Add them to the ever growing list of people, places, and things I didn't stop and photograph.

This is a lesson I should have learned a very long time ago. Twelve or thirteen years ago actually -- driving cross-country with bff Karen, wide open Montana field brimming with roaming buffalo, she or I "do you wanna stop and take a photo", whoever didn't ask the question "nah, we'll stop at the next wide open field of roaming buffalo". I think you know where this is going. Not a single buffalo to be had for the rest of our journey across this great land of ours.

SO many things I wish I had stopped to photograph on this cross-country trip: my car loaded with all my worldly possessions; the changing leaves in West Virginia; the horses in Kentucky; the god-awful billboards in Missouri; the cows in Oklahoma, countless things in Texas - the dead armadillo on the side of the road, the hitchhiker, the "Jesus Christ is Our Lord and Savior Not a Curse Word" rest stop, the "Drive Friendly" sign, the Magritte sky; the mesas in New Mexico; the Jackrabbit Road sign in Arizona; Lloyd Dobler; the "Welcome to California" sign; every single "Welcome to insert state name here" sign; every single sunset; the flock of pelicans that flew a mere ten feet over my head and the dead sea bass the size of a grown man that washed up on the dog beach today!

I think my dog pal and I will hit up the dog beach again one day soon. And maybe we'll get lucky and run into Chet 'n Betty. Fingers crossed.