Her name's Indi. Yes, like Indiana Jones.

Sitting here on my bed, Indi curled up on my pillow, cold mojito by side, I'm ready to write. 

It's been a few days and quite frankly, there isn't much really to convey. I will admit that in the time that has passed since my last post, however, I've had what could quite possibly be some of the best days I've had in the state of Florida. Who knew that owning a dog could bring such meaning to your life? Now listen, I did the whole vegetarian thing for nearly a year (mainly for health reasons) and have never considered myself that annoying friend in your usual group who constantly talks of animals rights - although I'm not against them, I just feel they should be approached similarly to religion: what you believe is quite a personal thing and should therefore be kept that way unless in a setting that allows for you to elaborate on such beliefs appropriately (meaning church and/or PETA rally, not your best friend's niece's 1st birthday). 

With that said, Saturday was wonderful. Andrew and I woke up early, spent most of the morning falling in out of sleep letting what was to be hurricane Danielle pass by before heading to Dania beach around 4 that evening. The beach had been found quite serendipitously and only the night before when I needed to get out of the house. And so it was decided while washing the sand from our feet we would bring Indi there the next day. Now, again, I realize she's a dog. But having driven here back and forth from Cape Coral nearly every weekend and having little to no contact with other dogs aside from our neighbors, we thought it would be a good treat for her. Not to mention it might be the only time in her short doggy life she'd see the ocean and actually get to swim in it. There's absolutely in no way a chihuahua mix weighing less than 10 pounds would survive the cold water of Santa Cruz...

Walking up the wooden ramp leading to the beach, Indi instantly perked up and started pulling at her leash - an image I could only equate with a young child on Christmas morning. There was no way to know what was under the tree, but the idea of it being there was enough to have the entire family awake at 6 am. 

Indi on her way to Grandma's yet again.

And it was. We're not quite sure what she's mixed with (we jokingly say she's half Chihuahua, half fruit bat/fox/meerkat/velociraptor and whatever else may come to mind the moment a passerby asks us what she is exactly). But at the moment, all I could see was the happiest dog alive, running the course of the beach, being chased by bigger dogs and chasing smaller ones. She wasn't that excited about the water, especially when Andrew walked out into its oncoming waves, dunking her in and pulling her back out again. She rolled in the sand, got in a few fights, made some friends, and within an hour was hiding beneath our chairs to escape what was left of the day's sun. It was overall what you would call a good day.  


Do I think it's kind of sad it's taken me nearly 5 years of living in Florida or traveling to the state often to have a day like that? Maybe, but it was worth the wait. I used to making fun of people who idolized their pets, carrying them around like children and throwing them birthday parties. And although I will never subject Indi to a purse unless sneaking her past security at Target because I feel guilty for leaving her in the car when its a bazillion degrees outside, I do love her. Unconditionally. So much so that I will openly admit I've seriously considered getting a tattoo of her portrait. 


Relax, it **probably** won't happen. But hey, why not? Let's just say I'll sit on the idea for awhile first.