Back when T was home on leave – it seems so long ago now – we took Owen to the beach. He may have been to the ocean with his previous owners, but judging by his former 82-pound weight, I’m thinking he really didn’t do much of anything. At any rate, this was his first time at the shore with us, so we were excited to see how he would react to the waves and the water.
He did not disappoint.
He trotted straight to the water’s edge and looked out at the crashing surf, ears alert and tail held high. When the first wave approached, he ran alongside of it until it caught him. Then he tried to bite it away, but he got a face full.
Ah! A challenge!
Now he was amped up. While I manned the 30′ training leash, T tried to take some pictures of the rampaging rhino. Try being the operative word.
I love my husband very dearly and he has many talents, but photography is not one of them.
It’s just really not.
We switched roles. I’m certainly not a professional by any stretch of the imagination, but I can generally get the entire subject in the frame.
I mean, I’m not bragging or anything.
Okay, I am, a little.
But the point is that Owen enjoyed the beach.
He was SO happy.
Happy to be at the beach.
Happy to be with his daddy.
Even if mommy does have to take all the pictures.