The Adventures of Lorie and Brian Groth

The kayak surfing photos will get posted after I copy them off the GoPro camera. So for now, let me explain what happened. This year, we got to the beach early enough to get in some kayaking Thursday afternoon, which was fun and the sun was out, so it wasn’t too cold. The next day, it was foggy all day, so sort of cool too. The kayaking was still fun, but colder and low visibility. I have some good videos and photos to share later.

In the afternoon though, Paul’s dog decided I was too close to his empty food bowl and told me to go away by biting my left hand. Thankfully, Keith was with us, who is an EMT and has years of ski patrol experience patching people up. He cleaned the wound (ouch!) and bandaged me up. However, that meant no more kayaking since the wound was at the base of my left thumb and you need a good grip on the paddle to surf the kayak.

So, the next morning Keith changed my dressings and cleaned my wound again (ouch!). Then, we packed up camp and went to the Port Angeles emergency room to ask about stitches. Apparently they don’t stitch up dog bites (or cat or human bites either).

So now I will end up with a cool scar on my left hand from the trip, which I’m ok with, but unfortunately it has nothing to do with kayaking or any sort of adventure!

No, this is not kayak surfing…. To be explained later.

Out for drinks tonight in San Francisco, then off for some kayak surfing in WA.

He’s 93 and Busby likes walking next to him.

A seagull got Busby on the side of his face. Yep, he got shit on.

Apparently he is as still as a statue for the groomer, but a bouncy spazz if we are there.

While walking home from the dog park this evening, a police officer drove up next to us and asked to talk to me for a minute. Since I couldn’t think of a reason to flee, I stopped and chatted. He was interested in Busby, since he has a 13-year old black poodle too. His poodle has been turning gray since day one, with the coloring starting at his tail and working its way up the dog’s back towards his head.

I wanted to try to get Busby into the car for another photo opportunity, but since the cop was stopped in the middle of the street, blocking traffic, I figured it might not be a good choice. So, after a few minutes of our interrogation, we were set free (aka, after chatting, we continued walking down the sidewalk). 

Lorie stole her own baseball mitt from the lake cabin this summer. It was an accident, but now the real challenge is to remember to bring it back next summer. It is the only place where we are likely going to through a ball around.

Who sits like this?
Of course, Milo, our last dog, sat with his butt on the sofa and his front feet on the floor.