Sure, I know I said I would be writing. I remember. But mostly I spend my days researching hospitals and advanced visualization software and occasionally walking a perplexed boxer who lays around on perfect, sunny, summer, SoCal days wondering why in the hell we aren't at doggy beach. However, as it's the hospitals and advanced visualization software that pays for the gas to get to doggy beach, I think he will just have to learn to cope.

Despite the infrequency of our doggy beach visits, we do manage to get a couple hours of beach time in ever day along the Balboa Peninsula. And this particular week, we had a big SW swell come up from Mexico. Breakers sometimes double overhead pounded the coastline. And in the lower peninsula, where the shoreline drops off abruptly and the body surfers play in the massive foamy barrels of the shorebreak, Josh discovered his latest passion. Racing the break.

I got myself a surf dog.

In a swell that would have made ME nervous, with breakers well over my own head, little Mr. Joshua would charge the water, wading out up to his chest and waiting as the building wall of water loomed just over him, and right as the wave crested he would turn and tear back to shore until the white water enveloped him. He would then shake playfully, turn and charge back out to the break to do it all over again, daring the Pacific to give him it's best shot.

Frankly, my dog has bigger balls than I do. Ironic as he doesn't have any balls at all.

I sat on the beach and smiled proudly. Cause I knew that when it got big, that, yeah, Joshie would go.

Go, Joshie. Go.

The whole set of Josh the surf pup can be found here .