Our First Beach Trip

It sounds cliche, but my dog and I saved each other. When I adopted her my anxiety was crippling and I could hardly leave my house. Frosty, my four-year-old English pointer, was only 45 pounds and she was all skin and bones. The first time I saw her my heart shattered. It was a cold November day in New England, and when she got out of the car, I noticed all of her bones were showing and she was shaking because she was so cold. She also had a horrible limp and raw skin on her belly and her elbow. I took her to the emergency vet where they told me that Frosty should be around 70-75 pounds. They said her limp was from a previous injury and the bad skin and the limp would never heal.

In the first few weeks I had Frosty, I realized a few things about her. The first thing I noticed is that she doesn’t lick. She prefers dry kisses and loves to be hugged and cuddled in bed. I have now had Frosty for a year and two months, and she has licked me a grand total of three times. Each time has been a singular lick on my mouth after I eat something that she likes. I also noticed that I was lied to and Frosty had no training other than off-leash training. She wasn’t potty trained and didn’t know any commands. I had her potty trained within a month, but we’re still currently working on all other commands. And finally, I had realized that my anxiety had decreased exponentially.

I have had severe anxiety in the car since I turned eighteen and have rarely been able to drive more than half an hour since then. But ever since Frosty came into my life it’s gotten so much better. It started with half an hour trip and has since extended to driving nine hours round trip in one day! We’ve gone to Vermont, Maine, the mountains in New Hampshire. Before all of our bigger adventures took place there was one milestone I really wanted to achieve.

The last time I had gone to the beach I was seventeen years old, so by the spring of 2021 I hadn’t been to the beach in five years. The beach has always been one of my favorite places. I love to wake board, hunt for seashells, read a book while sunbathing. When I was a teenager, my grandparents sometimes called me a beach bunny, because I was always begging to go to the beach before I could drive, and from the time I got my license I had been to the beach about a hundred times. As you can imagine, the second it started warming up I wanted to go to the beach for myself and for Frosty as she had never been. So, in April 2021 on what I’ll call a “New England” warm day, I packed a beach bag, found an off-leash dog friendly beach, and Frosty and I headed out.

We found a nice beach an hour and ten minutes away in Nahant, Massachusetts. It’s on this little strip right outside of Lynn, Massachusetts and it was really nice and quiet with a few couples walking along the beach and a few other off leash dogs. It was Frosty’s 1st time ever seeing the ocean and she was rather apprehensive. I should note that Frosty hates the water and one time held her bladder for forty-eight hours to avoid going potty in the rain. She did however dip her paws in, until she saw a wave which quickly ended her curiosity of ocean water.

Because it is New England, I had on my ex-boyfriend’s sweatshirt and some sweatpants. The day was slightly overcast, and it was a little windy, but the view was amazing and Frosty was having a blast playing with other dogs and running up to people for pats. She was running along the shoreline and came to a sudden halt with her ears raised as high as they could go. While she is a pointer, I should also note that Frosty is not good at pointing towards things. I went over to see what was intriguing her. It was a snail; my dog was dumbfounded by a snail. I picked it up and Frosty jumped about a foot, then finally lost interest and ran off. A little bit further down the beach, she stopped with her ears up again. This time she had found a clam with its fanny sticking up out of the sand. I dug it up to show her and put it in the pocket of my ex-boyfriend’s sweatshirt (sorry John) because I thought I would give it to my grandma to make clam chowder. The entire length of the beach Frosty alerted me every time she found a clam, a snail, or a seashell. She even found a sand dollar!

By the time we got back to the car, the pocket of the sweatshirt was full of different treasures, some clam juice, and a whole lot of sand. Frosty’s paws and my sneakers were also coated in sand. By the time we got home the whole car was also coated in sand. I forgot that whenever you go to the beach a seemingly large chunk seems to make its way back with you. I found out upon arriving home that you aren’t supposed to eat clams that you find on the beach, and I had accidentally committed clam-icide for nothing. Although, other than the senseless murder of innocent clams and a car full of sand, that was the best beach trip we took all summer long. There is nothing in the world like sharing one of your dog’s first experiences with them.