This morning, Meredith and I woke up and walked our old man down to the beach. We sat on the rocks, soaked up the sun, ran across the sand, and rolled in the seaweed (well one of us did, at least).
12 years passed in the blink of an eye. 12 years ago, we lived 1,000 miles away from this beach. We weren’t married. She wasn’t a photographer and I wasn’t a web developer. It’d be two years before we’d graduate and move to Maine. Three before we’d find our house near Willard beach. Seven before we’d tie the knot. We were kids, just scratching the surface of what it meant to be adults, and in a moment of serendipity, we made the best decision we’ve made in our entire lives.
Tonight, we took our buddy out to dinner and fed him deviled eggs and short ribs under our table – giggling like the kids we were 12 years ago to the day that we brought Orvis home.
Just trying to slip in a few last minute trips before my sabbatical comes to an end. Orvis has always been the ultimate road warrior, and we’re lucky to have had the chance to tackle some miles with him.
With all my hoards of newly minted followers from Twitter (hi Caroline, Kathryn, Brook, and Daniel), I figured I’d return to the basics of what this blog is really all about… pictures of my dog.
Every now and again, after guests leave and the excitement is gone, Meredith and I get to see a calm side of Orvis that few others ever experience. A side where he lays close to us in the grass, with his ball between his legs, as the sun sets in the sky. I feel sadness for all of you that don’t get to see this side of him.
I know one pup that’s happy with the 15″+ that got dumped on us this week.
Every big snow storm makes me think back to this Instagram that Meredith snapped 4 years ago. It’s crazy to think that at 10 years old, Orvis still loves jumping through the snow like it’s the first time he’s seen it.