lowdogs kind of weather

This weekend we took the lowdogs to the beach for a well-deserved morning of fun. Molly follows the bigdogs and runs into the waves with them, but Toula doesn't like the ocean to touch her. Not One Bit, thank you. As the foamy tide pushes up the sand, she stays just inches ahead of it, while Molly is busy half drowning and getting sand in Parts Unknown.

There's a beach in Honolulu called Sandy Beach which is so known because, thanks to the waves, when you get out of the water your swimsuit is weighted down with piles of sand. I've seen people's bikini bottoms literally hanging of them from the weight of the stuff in the little panty pocket. Molly would do well there, as her fur holds every ounce of sand that touches her. It's even under her toenails, if you can picture that. Of course, her fur holds the sand, but NOTHING HOLDS HER FUR ON HER BODY which explains the drifts of furballs in my house that roll through the hallways like tumbleweeds.

I'm sorry...did I just say that? No, what I meant was to mention that I'm the perfect housekeeper. I live for it. Come over, and wear your socks (because you need to take some of it with you when you leave, please).


It was about 70 degrees that morning, which meant I had to wear my flowery wool socks under my jeans. Brrr.