Fought a losing battle with the ocean.
Got turned to toast points by the sun.
Consumed my weight in sugar. Consumed my new weight in pizza.
Discovered (again) that fish have no concept of personal boundaries. You’d have thought I remembered that one from last time.
Fell in love.
Sure, I know what they say. Summer love is fleeting. It vanishes like the last strip of sand underneath your left cheek when the tide comes in. It disappears like the last Honey Bun in a beach house full of ocean-bound teenagers. It loses its charge like a cheap battery.
But this is real. The sort of love that warms you to your toes even when the air conditioner kicks on.
We stayed up late. We shared breakfast. We took naps. We ran in circles, filled with the joy of life, and the excitement of going outside. But in the end we had to say goodbye.
I’ll never forget the charming way she protected me from kayakers passing in the distance. How she cleverly she tried to eat pizza through the bottom of the glass-topped table. How she pretended not to notice me when they carried her away.
But I know that in her heart she will always love me.
Or anyone with a warm tummy to nap on.
Or a spare piece of pizza crust to share.
Now I know what they mean by the Dog Days of Summer.