Salty Dog

I am currently sitting in the back seat of my boyfriend’s Pontiac Vibe. We’re on our way back to Phoenix after a quick trip to San Diego. Seated next to me is his dog, Viva. She’s a border collie that likes to bark at or chase anything with a motor or a pulse. Today was her first day at the beach. She ran her doggie heart out and took in much sand and salt water. The latter has been coming up every hour on the hour. My boyfriend’s roommate is in the coveted passenger seat up front, out of range of Viva’s salt water spew.

This trip west was partly an excuse to do something fun on my BF’s birthday, partly an excuse to get out of Phoenix, which lately feels more like the valley on the sun—less like the valley of the sun. (On the way out here we stopped for ice cream in Gila Bend and it came out of the dispenser already melted.) Even though I will be crawling into my own bed very late tonight and getting up early for work, it was well worth it. Now we’re wrapping the trip up with a San Diego tradition: In-n-Out burger. Not such a novelty now that they’re cropping up all over Phoenix.

Getting the salt off of Viva: