Virginia Beach

December 28th and 29th, 2015

Virginia Beach is a nice enough city but not our cup of tea.  Nice restaurants and boutique shops line the posh streets a couple of blocks from our hotel and the beach and the Boardwalk are really nice but it's atmosphere lacked the casual warmth of OC.  I know, apples and oranges.

I was too exhausted to care the first night and crashed.  The following day we walked all around the area near the beach.

The boardwalk is colorful and fun with lots of interesting characters and artistic creations.

The day we landed we walked for a few hours and enjoyed watching about 200 (in all) surfers frolicking and flipping in the waves and admired the fabulous statues along the route.  

This is King Neptune, a magnificent statue conquering the center of the Boardwalk.

We met several very interesting people from different states and assorted countries and walked with some for a while; they told me about their dogs and doted on Zuma who felt the whole thing was just what she needed after hours in the van.  She is truly a patient traveler.

The warm weather kept us on the boardwalk (no boards, cement, great for walking but not the "old style feel) until dark.  Along the beach are extravagant light displays, including The Twelve Days of Christmas and beautifully lit archways:

 

What a nice way to spend a mild evening right before New Year's Eve!

The following morning I opened the curtains in the hotel room and SURPRISE!  I called the desk about the SPIT on the windows.  Not just spit. GOBS.  They said they would look into it.  Some people clearly had a spitting contest against the windows.  It was disgusting.  Then, I went out to the car for about 10 minutes to fetch some groceries and came back to find our hotel room door open.  I surmised housekeeping opened the door, saw Zuma and bolted without shutting the door.  For some people she may as well be a velocoraptor.  I was shaken as Zuma, my purse, money and credit cards, camera and laptop were all in full view.  I took a few deep breaths and called the desk.  Most importantly, Zuma was there without me.  They said they would look into it. Nothing.

We gave it a try but after two days we decided two days in Virginia Beach was enough.  There isn't really much there for us.  If you're able to dine and shop, it's a fun place but for our needs, we can't rationalize staying on.  Plus, our goal is to head further south.

It was time to exit.

We left Virginia Beach on the 28th and began to make our way our way to Wilmington, NC, a 4 1/2 hour drive.

December 29th, 2015

The first big hurdle this morning was crossing the Chesapeake Bridge Tunnel which is a bridge that goes underwater into a tunnel, back up to a bridge and then down again and up again.  Seriously, I thought I was going to shat myself.  When we went down for the second time, I was like (aloud), Bloody Hell, are you serious? 

There is no stopping and no turning back.  The tractor trailers whip along and the wind up there was frantic that day.  For someone like me, a claustrophobic who doesn't like heights/bridges and especially despises underground travel, it was a bit of a nightmare.

tunnel/bridge pix

I patted myself on the back for stepping galloping out of my comfort zone.  We got through it.  We were on the final stage of the bridge and a tractor trailer was on the opposite side of our lane, it had experienced some catastrophic injury and literally had crashed and burned.  It was a twisted mass of black metal.  We couldn't stop, we had to keep going.  Here I was worried about getting a flat tire. Thank you, Blanca, for making it through that scary crossing. Blanca was a true champ.  So was Zu.

pix from cell 'phone of bridge approach and the bridge tunnel.

This leg of the trip was a true test of emotional endurance for me as I don't like driving, especially in foul weather.  Not long after we set out, it began to rain. Then it poured.  Then, when I thought it couldn't rain any harder, it came down in buckets.  Then in garbage cans.  Seriously.  I had the wipers on full blast and pondered whether or not they may fly off at some point.  I have never seen rain like it and wanted desperately to get off the highway but there were no exits where I was and the shoulder was miniscule.  Cars were in the ditch.  I was terrified of hydroplaning but Blanca held onto the road and we slogged along.  The speed limit was 70 mph but the rain was torrential and even the tractor trailers joined me at 40 mph; we all had our 4 way flashers on.  There was little shoulder to pull over to so I decided it was safer to keep plodding along, as scary as it was.

Zuma was snuggled on her puffy bed behind me, both paws over her head as she doesn't like rain.  The only good thing I can say about the drive was that I got to see cotton fields.  I imagined the slaves of days gone by working in them, forced into labor by the owners of the large homes at the back of lengthy driveways.

Along the side of the road were multiple carcasses of what appeared to be possums:  splayed out with their bellies exposed and their arms and legs twisted into hideous poses, exposing all like shameless Playboy models.  Poor things.

Leaving Virginia and entering North Carolina, the rain slowed and then stopped.  The skies brightened and the sun came out.

Fog and Farewell to OC.

December 27

First to arrive, last to leave


Due to fog, Doug spent 3.5 hours waiting in Salisbury Airport Sunday morning after I dropped him off in the wee hours.  Finally he arrived in Philly and due to fog, rain and delays he then spent 5.5 hours waiting to fly to Portland, Maine but the flight was eventually canceled so Doug was stuck in Philly overnight.  He finally arrived at the office on Monday; the temperature in Maine was nearly 50 degrees lower than in OC.

Before we left OC, Zuma and I had two fabulous Sunday romps on the beach; it was 70 degrees with a warm breeze that came up behind us every few minutes, clinging to us for a minute or two. People on the beach all commented on experiencing this same feeling.  It felt like a dear friend enveloping us with a warm blanket. That kinduv sums up Ocean City and it's people, really.

Zuma encountered her first surfers, really nice guys.  She didn't know what to make of the surfboards, even though the guys were friendly towards her.

We watched two  handsome dogs frolic in the surf.  Zuma, who refuses to dip a toe in the ocean, suddenly became inspired to join in the fun chasing tennis balls.

It was really sad to say goodbye to OC and the fabulous people there but, as the saying goes, "It's not the destination, it's the journey".

I really love the seaside , I believe it brings out the best in people.  Walking on sand is the BEST therapy.  No "shrink" can heal the soul better than this.  I am so glad Doug was able to enjoy two weeks in OC with us.

Having grown up within a couple of blocks of the English Channel and spending many years on the beaches there, there must be salt water in my veins.

I truly love the whole seaside thing, especially here.  I was here over 30 years ago and now I see the "progress", where the "dated" Brady Bunch-style hotels and motels that are still in business but are physically overshadowed by time moving on:

I love the old places.  There's just something fun and funky about old hotels.  They've stood their ground and not yet been enveloped by the huge chains.

And then there's this:

Time, they say, marches on.

I hope there will not be too much more "progress" before we return again.  We will all miss you, Ocean City.  We'll be back.

People Make A Place

This morning we walked 2 1/2 miles to the end of the Boardwalk and I snooped around and found the cat Amanda had told us about. She is clearly wild, a beautiful black and orange tortoiseshell with yellow eyes, she was drinking rain water from a bright green frisbee. Photographing her was impossible but she was very interested in the "cat-calling" my friend Rose taught me.  Then, poof! she vanished, skittering at top speed into a rubbish-filled space beneath the boards. Creeping closer and still "cat talking" softly, I waited to see if she would return.  Then a small orange face appeared, then a tricolor face, then another ginger face who was missing his right ear.  Slowly I took a few photos and backed away.  They have two clean stainless steel bowls under the Boardwalk in their seaside cat condo.   

The kittens look about 4 months old.  Oops, I guess Amanda doesn't know about Sunset's secret family!  

Mission Accomplished.  They look healthy, they're just homeless. Well, they're not really homeless, they have a room with a fantastic view and there are lots of good, caring people looking out for them.

Speaking of good people looking out for transients, Doug and I went to Bob and Carole's home in Lewes, Delaware for a delicious Italian dinner of salad and pasta.  Carole is Italian and she is one fantastic cook!  As an added bonus, Jim and Betsy were there too so we all enjoyed a fabulous evening together, getting to know each other. Jim is a poet (a too humble and very talented poet); he recited one of his works, "Rainbow" for me, about travels.  I am deeply touched.  We learned we all have much in common and we are hoping they will all accept our invitation to visit us in Maine in 2016.  

                          Bob and Jim and Carole and Betsy.

                                         Jim and Bob.
                   
                        How could you not love these people?

Zuma and Doug were totally exhausted from all the Christmas celebrations.
Even though we missed being with Emma and friends back in Maine, we had a really nice Christmas and hope ya'll did too.
  

Merry Christmas Ya'll!

From our family to yours, we wish you all a peaceful and joyful Christmas and holiday season.

What an incredibly different Christmas Day for us as Mainers used to snow and frigid temperatures at this time of year!  The weather is in the 70s here (apologies, apologies, not trying to rub it in) so we walked beside the sea to Christmas dinner.

Families were building sand castles and playing frisbee, flying kites and wading in the waves.

When we first arrived in O.C., we made reservations at a "traditional Christmas buffet" offered by a nearby Marriot on the Boardwalk.  Doug trekked a total of 9 hours with Zuma that day, I walked 5 with them, so we felt no guilt as we loaded our plates with prime rib, turkey, vegetables and all the trimmings plus wonderful, fresh, fried oysters!  Protein overload, Iiiii know.  
Back to the regular, healthier meal plan tomorrow (uh .... doesn't everyone say the same thing?)!

We are seriously watching the weather channel so I can plan the next leg of our journey.  With rain and flooding, lightning, snow and tornadoes happening in the south, I have to be uber cautious. We are feeling so badly for the people further south who are struggling with the weather, news ofthe tornadoes and the flooding are broadcast constantly.  Those poor people.  They are homeless and have lost so much.

On our morning walk, we met Amanda who works for Animal Control.  She stopped specifically to meet Zuma and they had a nice meet and greet.  Zu is such a celebrity around here, it's like, sign the autograph, move along.

Amanda told us there is a feral cat living under the boardwalk at the south end where you can look across the inlet to Assateague.  Amanda checks on her regularly but Sunset wouldn't come out of her hiding place on Christmas Day.  Amanda informed us there are homeless people who feed and take care of her and, since the cat is spayed, Amanda doesn't make a fuss about it.  I knew then and there I had to meet the elusive Sunset. 

From all of us, Merry Christmas to All and to All a Good Night! 

The Look of Eagles.

December 24th.

When Doug and Zuma and I were first here, we met two nice couples on the Boardwalk (I blogged about them earlier), Bob and Carole and Jim and Betsy.  On a trip to the town of Rehoboth Beach today, we chose a fun and funky bar/restaurant called The Purple Parrot to stop at for a drink.  This vibrantly decorated watering hole was full of jovial, colorful locals "preparing" for Christmas Eve (no doubt whilst their other halves were sweating it out in the kitchen at home, haha!)   We plopped down on stools in the open-air indoor seating;  it was very refreshing with the soft breeze on us as it was a warm, balmy day and Doug and I were hot and thirsty from walking.  We were just being served our beverages and some fabulous chicken wings when Bob and Carole were seated at the table right behind us!  We were all surprised and happy to see each other again and had a great chat, then they invited us for dinner on Saturday!  We have met so many nice people here, some we feel will stay in our lives.  
You know how it is, you meet good people and well, you just know.

Christmas Eve Dinner at Ruth's Chris was spectacular and made even better because we were seated upstairs in the old hay mow of a barn that was a huge part of Man O' War's life.  There is warm, amazing horse karma in this building.

Adorning the walls in the downstairs area of the restaurant are paintings and photographs of the great horse himself, his son War Admiral and other equine racing celebrities, including Sea Biscuit. It is a trip back in time. 

Samuel Riddle raced horses until his passing in 1951 his heirs took over the property and sadly, the farm's mansion burned in 1969. Then the farm was abandoned until real estate developers purchased it and made it what is today.

The smooth, well-worn brick floors in the restaurant are original flooring from the huge barn, as are most of the beams and some of the wall boards down in the bar area and the floor boards in the hay mow (visible from the bar area below).  Our waiter informed us that 20% of the original building was salvaged during the rebuilding project.  

Along a hallway in the back of the restaurant is a nostalgic collection of newspaper clippings and other memorabilia from the golden days of the Glen Riddle Farm, along with photographs of the property when it was in it's Heyday.  On the opposite wall are photographs of the dilapidated buildings decades later, many of these had to be torn down because they could not be salvaged.

Although I am not a huge fan of Thoroughbred racing, I admire the courage and strength it takes for a horse to race, to give it's all, at an unreasonably young age.

Man O' War was known as a horse with "The look of eagles"; high-headed and proud, he exuded confidence.  Here is a video of him! Grab a cuppa and enjoy!

http//www.youtube.com/watch?v=aESLobHGVeMs:



December 23rd. 

Wednesday.  December 23rd.

We dropped off Blanca at Race Track Automotive after a drive around Assateague Island.  Only three ponies could be spotted, they were off in the salt marsh, standing solemnly as a light rain drizzled softly down onto their fuzzy coats.  George informed us that he and his brother are very close to finding a Dane for his sister in law!  It didn't take long for the van to be repaired and we were off again, minus the "check engine" light.

There is a nice seafood restaurant (Waterman's) on the bay side of Ocean City that is open year round, so we swung in for lunch.  Crab Imperial is a favorite in this area and it is delicious!  I have to find a good recipe and try it!

Great Hairdresser, Man O' War's Home and Crab Imperial.

I was fortunate to find a local hairdresser right before Christmas and visited her this morning.  Noticing her photos of dogs and a horse on her desk, I started asking questions and we talked and talked animals.  One of the things she told me is that the legendary Man O' War lived locally at a huge horse farm owned by Samuel Riddle; he was the owner of the horse, one of the greatest race horses of all time.  After Mr. Riddles's death in 1951, his heirs took over the farm.  In 19a course of years, the mansion burned to the ground, the horses moved out and the farm was abandoned, left to decay for 30 years until a group of developers purchased the beautiful property and many barns and buildings.  Today, what was once home to Man O' War, his famous son War Admiral and many other record breaking racehorses, as well as the training grounds for such prestigious horses as Seabiscuit is now a huge condominium complex with brand new large homes, golf course and golf club and, best of all, in one of the main barns, a Ruth's Chris Steak House.

What a coincidence that I had made reservations for Doug and I to go there for dinner for Christmas Eve (not knowing any of this beforehand)!

We went for a drive to see the property in daylight.  Terri, my hairdresser told me that the giant metal horseshoe in front of what was the a main barn (which housed an indoor training track) was found in a paddock, overgrown with grass.  Now it stands proudly as the entrance way to the restaurant, with a plaque honoring "Big Red" as Man O' War was known.

It's strange to drive the road circling the golf course and think of how it was decades ago, with Thoroughbred royalty grazing on the flat fields, Spring crops of Man O' War's foals bounding beside their mothers.  Now it is sand pits and humps, but the grass is as green as ever.

Monday, Monday.

George and his staff at Race Track checked out the van this morning; they  what got the "code" and recognize the problem (minor, oxygen sensor, need parts) and so Blanca is booked in for another round of automotive surgery Wednesday after lunch.

Doug and I walked 5 miles with Zuma and admired the decorated benches along "The Boards" as they are affectionately known by locals.  So difficult to believe it is almost Christmas when removing clumps of sand from between your toes when you step inside, instead of half-melted ice cubes from crunchy frozen socks.

We find it so heartwarming that these loved ones are remembered as the waves roll in and back out to sea, singing to the shore, life keeps moving along, ebb and flow.

We enjoyed a lovely Italian dinner at the restaurant across the road but sadly, "The Kissing Chef" was not there (seriously, this is what he is known as, I checked out the restaurant's web site)!  We had a really nice time anyway.  

Bad Car Karma, Good Dog Karma

December 20, 2015

Zuma and I picked Doug up at the Ocean City/Salisbury Airport this  morning and we drove to Berlin; I have been so excited about Doug seeing this sweet place.  We booked a table for lunch at The Globe, a restaurant housed in an old movie theater, lunch was absolutely delicious.  We both ordered a cup of cream of crab chowder which promptly arrived in a jumbo mug (!); it was incredible and totally satisfied our crab cravings.  We also had entrees.  Everything was scrumptious, the place was packed, the service excellent and lots of movie decor from the past is sprinkled throughout the building. 

The Globe also offered $2.00 Bloody Mary’s so I had two of these.  (Doug refrained from temptation and only sipped on one because he was driving).  Then my fuzzy brain remembered that the last time I had two Bloody Mary’s for lunch Emma was driving my car and on the way home I looked in my rear view mirror and I saw a Great Dane was perched Scooby Doo style in the back seat.

Seriously.              But that’s another story.

With the Bloody Mary’s taking effect and the streets filled with Christmas music and all the Berlin merriness and sunshine, I had visions of sugar plums dancing in my head.  We wandered around the coolest town and went into a few shops and purchased some really COOL stuff from COOL shops.

A very handsome pair of beautifully turned out Haflingers enjoying each other's company, giving tours around Berlin.

Doug likes Berlin as much as I do so we’re making plans to return tomorrow to do more exploring BECAUSE it’s close to Racetrack Garage and we have to take Blanca back there tomorrow morning because the *@!%* engine light popped on again on the way from Airport.  (WHAT NOWWW?!).  So Blanca is heading back to Race Track Garage for another checkup.  Sigh.

The funniest part of all this was when I called to explain my plight; George, the owner of Race Track Garage said we could bring the van in first thing in the morning but (laughing) said that I need to help him find a Great Dane for his sister-in-law!  Oh Lord, what have Zuma and I started now?!

Grounded.

December 19, 2015

Isn’t it amazing that when you don’t have the use of your vehicle you suddenly have 4 million places you want to go to?  For the two days Blanca was lounging around at the garage it was misty and windy.  I guess it rained in the nights, I slept through it.  The warm daytime mist felt refreshing me.  Not the case for Zuma.  She claims it messes up her hairdo.  She would barely go outside yesterday and today and I realized I’d left her rain gear wardrobe in Blanca so all long walks were canceled until further notice.

Today (19th) we took a taxi to the garage and posted bail.  The garage folks were fantastic (Race Track Garage) near Berlin, America’s Coolest Small Town.  George, the owner asked if he could invite his sister-in-law over to meet Zuma as she and her husband had owned a Dane x but, as dogs do, it broke their hearts when it passed away.  She yearns for a purebred now. She looked at her husband and said, “Ohhhh, I want one!” as Zuma was wiggling all around her enjoying the Dane Love.  So, I dutifully advised her husband in a matter of fact tone:  “If you really love your wife, you’ll get her one”.  Laughter.   They would be excellent Dane owners, I’m sure of it.

picGeorgeand Zuma

So, we are back  in business with The Magic Bus.  What a relief.   Since we were unable to drive and Zuma didn’t want to get wet, I’ve been watching far too many Dateline and Forensic Files episodes in the hotel room.  If you need to murder somebody, I’ve studied all the angles.  Feel free to call me.

Last night Zuma and I trotted out for a nice walk as the sun was setting.  We were leaving the hotel and heading towards the front door when a 60-ish woman with two Yorkies burst out of the elevator. I was almost at the door and Zuma was not at all interested in the dogs. Just two more yappy, high-strung brats to her.  “Hi, no worries, she’s friendly”  I announced over the ferocious rabid snapping of her two pint-sized dogs.  Suddenly, the woman  turned on me like a fighting wolverine and, fangs bared, she snarled loudly:  “COULD YOU JUST GET OUT OF THE WAY SO WE CAN GET BY?”  So we did (after I reset my dropped lower jaw).  I was too dumbfounded to speak.

Pony Sized Poo and The Paper Pic

 Pony Sized Poo and The Paper Pic

Since Zuma has been on medication, her toilet activity has doubled and it is not just her usual firm turd, it is .... ugh. I'm talking Pony Size Poo and yeh, I already know how much a race horse pees. This poor dog. Not to be gross, ya'll, but #2 is not unlike picking up a jumbo soft serve ice cream. Did I mention it is comparable to a jumbo serving? Like, I need to scoop it up with a bag and it takes two hands to do a good job whilst I am fiercely clenching the leash between my teeth and Zuma is feeling thoroughly relieved and perky and wants to leave the scene and get on with her day. 

Good thing I don't wear dentures.

Let me assure you, when I am in dog poo scoop mode, it is not a graceful picture. I've had her on a regular schedule the past three years; she pooped once a day, in the morning, then she came in for breakfast and after an hour and a half we went for a walk. Now she is on prednisone and antibiotics she goes #2 three times a day and pees constantly. I get up in the middle of the night and we take the elevator down to ground level to get out to the Poo Area. She would be horrified if she had an accident in the hotel room.

At home I can get out a pitchfork and chuck #2 in a bag. This double fisted bag scooping isn't my fave part of traveling with a big dog. We're almost finished the pills, I'm hoping and praying toilet trips will return to normal soon.

We feed her high quality dog food (Solid Gold and Wellness) so her turds are more concentrated. Good food = less waste to pick up! She doesn't get any human food unless she counter surfs and snags a steak off the counter when Doug is out starting the grill and forgets she is an opportunist who is particularly fond of a good tenderloin or pork chop. She is still eating the same food she gets at home (minus steak thefts) but the shitty effects of these pills are really wearing me out. I will spare you the photos. One great thing is that this La Quinta has a dog toilet area and they provide poopy bags and a poo garbage can. Needless to say, no grass grows there. I really appreciate the hotel's thoughtfulness, providing for dogs.

Yesterday Zuma got the urge (Oh please God, not here Zuma) and she dumped a load on a lawn while we were out walking. I sprang into action and was extremely thankful she plunked it down behind a large shrub so the homeowners couldn't see me if they peeked out their windows, but it was a squishy pile and I had a hard time gathering it all up and some of it leaked out and got on the bag's handles. It was a challenge to get the bag tied and I ended up with traces of smooshy shit on my hands, pants and shoes. I surely looked like a madwoman marching along the sidewalk with four roaring lanes of busy traffic zooming beside us, me sporting the overflowing green plastic bag of shit laughing out loud (what are ya gonna do but laugh at yourself?) and Zuma prancing happily along the sidewalk like a pepped up parade pony.

Later, I was chatting with some people and a guy rode up on a bike with a Nikon bearing what seemed like a two foot long lens. "Uh Oh", said one of the women I was talking with, "The paparazzi is here". Turns out he is a photojournalist for the local newspaper! I'll keep you posted whether or not they publish the photo.

Blanca, Blanca, Blanca

Yesterday we went on a van run around town and a nice walk, a quiet day, the highlight of which was purchasing a toaster oven!  Since I don't like leaving Zuma in the hotel room to go out for dinner I decided I'd get a little toaster oven (no restaurant in hotel) and then I can cook here.  We have a microwave and fridge but I don't like microwaving food.  Doug cautioned me that if I burned something the sprinkler system would likely be activated.  That would not be cool.

This morning our Housekeepers knocked on the door to see if I needed anything and they invited me to their staff Christmas party this Sunday!  Since Doug is arriving that morning, we won't be able to go, but wow, how sweet is that?!  They are so nice here.  Then Zuma cruised to the door and the girls totally freaked and shrieked and RAN across the hall to another room, giggling.  These are clearly not dog lovers.  One girl said she had experienced a terrible situation with a dog when she was young and is still traumatized by it.  Zuma looked puzzled.  Why don't they like me?  They don't even know me?  I got a pic when they did it a second time.  These girls are a blast.   I hope Zuma will be able to ensure them that all dogs are not aggressive.  We'll see.

Today we got organized and headed out towards Assateague for the day but, as we were in the turning lane, I remembered I needed to pick up an extension cord so I can put the toaster oven on the balcony and avoid flooding the room and causing a total hotel evacuation if I should burn dinner.  So, as we left the parking lot, I turned right instead of left.  Oh, what a good thing!

I arrived at my destination and suddenly there was a huge BANG under my feet!  I hastily drove 50 feet to the first parking spot ahead; I thought I must've hit something, even though there was nothing visible in my path as I pulled in.  I leaped out of Blanca and saw water pouring out of her, from behind and under the bumper. Radiator?  Realizing this was a AAA call, I jumped back in Blanca and immediately headed for the hotel.  No tow truck was going to take me and this dog.  Not to mention neither of us is physically capable of climbing into one of those big ass tow trucks.  I arrived safely back at the hotel and AAA quickly sent help.  Water was still pouring out of the van when I called but 40 minutes later when the tow truck arrived, she was dry and the parking space was soaked.  Chuck the tow truck driver hooked her up and away she went.

Rain, Rain Go Away

Wednesday, December 17.

Rain doesn't bother me.  At least you don't have to shovel it.  But rain really bothers Zuma.  She bounced out of the hotel today and when the first raindrop landed on her, she was ready to race back inside.  She doesn't like to get wet, so it makes for a quick pee trip outside.  Since we arrived, people in the shops have been talking about how the weather has been so nice they don't feel like shopping or getting ready for Christmas, they'd rather be outside or on the beach.  I hear ya, Ocean City Dwellers.

Now we have rain, the shops are likely overpopulated.  It's great for me to be peacefully confined to the hotel room with Blanca away at the garage;  I am able to work on my book, attentively research the next leg of our journey and catch up on lost sleep.

Speaking of lost sleep, the reason I am sleep-deprived is that Zuma likes to bed-hop; she starts out in her own sleeping space, then decides she could improve it with some careful planning.  Her plan begins with a mournful stare, tail slowly wagging its four foot wingspan and then slowly she plunks her feet into position in slow motion, one paw at a time.  I move over to be accommodating.  It would be easy to pretend to be sleeping but the tail wagging and staring makes me feel guilty.  Once landed, she starts out small and is a nice warm snuggle partner, then, within a couple of minutes she realizes she is comfortable but it could be better.  So she stretches out and kicks me in the kidneys and that's my cue:  I have no choice but to relocate. Thankfully, we booked a room with two queen beds; one for us, one for Zuma.  Once comfortable, she ain't budging.  When she does dismount from the bed, she perfects her fancy yoga move:  she plants her front feet on the floor, stretches and yawns and lets out a soft Pffft. Doug and I always hurriedly duck under the covers, giggling.

Zuma is claustrophobic.  When I emptied Blanca yesterday, I unloaded an array of our belongings in the entrance to our hotel room. Zuma had plenty of room to walk through/around it but she refused to budge and stiffly planted her feet outside the room.  She thought she was too wide to get through the path between the bags.

Recognizing she is bored, I tried to entice Zuma to fetch a ball by tossing it up the hallway.  On the first throw, she eagerly chased it and kept going beyond the ball. We are the only occupants in this wing of the second floor, so it's a perfect playground for a dog who needs exercise.  No chance she would lower herself to participating normal dog activities.  Back on the bed, HER personal bed.  Here's the remote, Zu, have at it.

Photos of Z with Lamb Chop.

The Boardwalk Starts at 27th Street

The Boardwalk starts at 27th Street

I've decided to stay on here through New Year's. The weather looks good and I love it that we can walk so much with such ease. We went out for ten miles today, non-stop, with only water breaks.

We arrived at the end of the Boardwalk and I wanted a bottle of water for Zuma; the young man at the booth wouldn't take my money because he was so besotted with Zuma! "No charge, it's for the dog". How sweet. Dogs really do bring out the best in people.

Hotels and Homeless People

Hotels And Homeless People.

We have decided this is the BEST time of year to visit Ocean City because there are only a handful of tourists here and the weather is excellent.  It must be mayhem in July and August when the Boardwalk comes to life with crazy loud music and zillions of people and the Midway fired up.  But for now, everything is really quiet and pretty darned nice.  The visitors here truly appreciate the calm, the sunshine and the overall peace.
  

At our hotel, we have a whopping four cars in the parking lot tonight.  It was busy on the weekend because it's a pet-friendly place and there were dogs everywhere: in the lobby, on the grounds, in the elevator (dog owner, seeing Zuma's size:  "Ah, I'll wait for the next one" .... good plan! What a circus it would be in the elevator with a few little fluffy yippers nipping at Zuma's ankles).   Little dogs act really tough (with their owner backing them) and vocalize their aggression, scrambling furiously in place like cartoon characters threatening to fearlessly rip her to shreds if unleashed.  Zuma regards them quizzically, head tipped sideways, then she regally carries on.  She is so kind to the little dogs and I can tell she wants to one of them when she grows up.  They are ruthless little brats.  THEY are the enemy.

Every now and then we meet a confident dog and they'll have a bit of a playtime with Zuma.  This is Rupert, an Old English Sheepdog puppy with nerves of steel.  He grabbed Zuma's leash and was ready to take her off on an adventure.  He's only 8 weeks old!  What a cool dog.

Anyway, back to what I was going to say .... the best thing about being here right now is we pretty much have the place to ourselves.  More than 50% of the hotels and restaurants are shut down for the season (and there are a LOT of hotels and restaurants).   

This evening, after Zuma and I walked ten miles total today, I was still feeling like walking some more (must be the new light shoes, haha!) so I went out for an hour's brisk walk on my own.  Nobody even noticed me without my dog.  Usually we can't go 15 feet without people talking to us her.  I may be developing an identity crisis.

At one of the big toilet facilities on the Boardwalk, there is a group of people (mostly men, one or two women) who cloister in the sunshine each day, up against the wall of the bathroom.  One of the retailers I see regularly told me this morning that "They are the homeless people".  "Is there no shelter in the city?" I asked.  She told me yes, they likely sleep there but they hang out outside the toilet building all day.  It is sunny and gives them a break from the wind and weather.  Doug noticed them the first day; they have bikes and he saw them peddling to the site smiling and clutching wrinkled brown paper bags.  I guess I missed that.  

One of the men talked with us on the weekend, while petting Zuma.  When he learned she is a "rescue" he told us he had rescued a dog and it was the best thing he'd ever done in his life.  That was in 1980.  He is a kind man, Zuma really liked him.  

They are a quiet group, I hear them laughing and talking when we pass by.  They wanted to pet Zuma today and she was cool with that.  I let her be the people barometer. 

I find it sad that they lead such a pointless, unambitious life, hanging out on the Boardwalk all day.  
Uh, wait, that's what I do.