Aaron has gone up to Ptown early for rehearsals for an early production of "Our Town" at the Provincetown Theater. He took both of the girls, because a) they prefer mommy to daddy (yeah, I'm more the dog-disciplinarian in the house) and b) they prefer the beach to the park. Washington seems bizarrely empty without them, but I still have a lot of crap to get through before I escape to Thoreau-land.
Last year, Dusty, now over twelve, sprained her back leg and was hobbling around most of the summer. I wrote a post about her late-summer insistence on going to her favorite rock in the sand anyway - the same spot she has sat on every summer since she was a few inches long. She loves it there, especially when the wind is strong and she can flare her nose into the wind, catching every smell from the beach and town, and letting her beagle ears fly backward in the wind.
Anyway, the good news is: she's back on her rock, as feisty and as puppy-like as ever. This isn't as good as being there, but it's pretty damn close:
Bonus: Dusty helping to bring in the laundry (not) after the jump:
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