I wanted to write a post for you today, I really did. I had a bunch of ideas in my head. Like how the trip went, how many awesome peeps I met and hung out with, how many doglebrities I met, how my dogs welcomed me home and how Delilah got into mischief with the goodies in my swag bag.

But my sleep deprived brain just isn’t working at the moment. So I’m simply going to send out BIG CONGRATULATIONS to our friends at the following blogs for their well deserved awards at BlogPaws.

Jen at My Brown Newfies and Me for Best Humor Blog.

Mel Freer at No Dog About It Blog for Best Written Blog Post (Loose Dog? Don’t Chase! Stop, Drop and Lie Down).

Jessica Williams at You Did What With Your Weiner for Best Blog Design.

Jen Gabbard at Puppy Leaks for Best New Pet Blog.

Jessica Williams at You Did What With Your Weiner for Best Dog Blog.

But I will share the most important thing I learned while I was in Nashville.

Are you ready?

Dill Pickle Chips are a thing. For real. They make dill pickle flavored potato chips and I may or may not be addicted to them. 

Our son-in-law’s parents live in beautiful Emerald Isle, North Carolina, a small beach town on the outer banks.

Hubby and I vacationed there a month before Sampson joined our family and two years later we brought Sampson along. Sampson really enjoyed walking, running and playing on the beach.

 

I’m not a beach person per say. I love walking on the beach at dawn and dusk, but to spend the day at the beach, laying out in the sun or swimming in the ocean, well it’s just not my thing. Hubby does not care for the beach either, unless he is fishing, but he will humor me and walk the beach with me sometimes.

When the opportunity to bring Delilah to Emerald Isle arose, I was super excited. If she enjoyed the beach half as much as Sampson had, she was going to be in for a good time.  When we vacationed with Sampson it was off season so we had a little bit of leeway with the leash, but with Delilah we were going in season, so I purchased two 30-foot leashes so the dogs could have a little bit of freedom.

The ocean draws me to it when I am near, and after a 15 hour ride, I was ready to stretch my legs. After unpacking the car the first thing we did was grab my son-in-law and his sister and head to the beach with the dogs (our daughter stayed back at the house with our 18 month old grandson.) Not knowing Delilah’s background, I had no idea if she had ever been to the beach or not, or how she would react.  The anticipation was building and I just couldn’t wait.

We arrived at the beach late in the afternoon. The bulk of the touristas had left for the day, which turned out to be a good thing as there were relatively few people to witness my humiliation.

After traipsing through the deep, dry sand we arrived at our destination, the shallow, harder packed sand. We stood there taking it all in, the sight, the sound, the smell that is the amazing ocean…and the sea gulls.

I’m not sure if Delilah had ever seen a sea gull before, but apparently the sight was enticing enough for her to want to give chase.  If you walk dogs, odds are your dog has gotten the drop on you with a six foot leash and given your arm a really good tug, it’s enough to pull you off your feet at times.

Delilah had 30 feet.

I am living proof that a four legged dog can go from six feet to thirty feet in a matter of seconds. The ensuing jerk was so hard that I remember lurching forward, and almost landing on my knees. Back then Delilah was much larger than she is now. There was probably only about a 30 pound difference between her and me.

Some things are instinctive for me:

• I swallow food wrong and reflexively cough.
• Someone cuts me off on the highway, I flip them the bird.
• The dog steps on my toe and I jump back and curse.

Dropping the leash when my dog decides to chase a seagull is apparently not on my list of reflexes.                                                                                                              

So there I am, flying down the beach, my two little legs trying to keep up with four very fast legs. I’m running, but not totally of my own volition. Apparently my legs reflexively know to move, but listen, I’m not a runner. Honestly if I weighed a little less and had a floppy hat, I’d probably have been a kite behind this dog.

My breath is coming in gasps, yet I’m still managing to scream, “Help, help, help me.”

Do you think any of the people that were with me came to my aid? No, not one. (I think Hubby might have yelled, “Drop the leash.”) But really, who could hear or think at that point?

Finally after what seemed like hours but was in fact probably a minute or two, my legs just gave out and I pitched forward in the sand.

I think the dead weight is what stopped her.

I took a few seconds to gather my composure, grateful for the darkening sky to cover the redness of my face and we made our way back up the beach.

 I think that was the only time Delilah made it to the beach that trip.