We fled the summer hell in Arizona for heaven — San Diego.

Original plan was to spend more time in the LJBTC community.  No Dogs allowed.  But that got cancelled.  We found a pet-friendly vacation rental in Del Mar, and that’s how Carol Baskins got to rent her time with the 1 percent.

She lived up to her name, sort of.

Carol is our tiger-striped pandemic puppy named after the murdering wife in Tiger King.

The Del Mar Beach Club is about 15 miles north of the La Jolla Beach and Tennis club, but it’s up on a bluff.  There are 85 steps down (and back up from the beach). It lands a few steps away from the Del Mar north beach.  Dogs encouraged.  They can be off leash before 8 a.m. year round.

The first time down, Carol wanted to be carried.  She cried and pulled back and would not go over the edge on her own.

Carol Baskins is smaller than the throw pillows around her.

That shit got old.

With a strong pull and maybe a little herding from our feet, soon she was jumping down,  landing hard and descending the steps faster than our arthritic knees could muster.

Quick walk, and she was jumping back up those 85 steps to the room.

“Every trip to the beach is doing 200 burpees for her,” the Bear said.

Perfect, nothing but beach walks, burpees and naps for everyone.

We didn’t have to worry about letting Carol Baskins off the leash.  She never got more than a few feet from our feet.

“She’s just scared of everything,” the Bear said.

Carol would barely go in a little slot in the rocks.

Little Dog — Big Ocean.

Susan B Anthony — the B is for…

After a couple of days, the Boy joined us and brought his little dog, Susan B. Anthony.  She’s 20 pounds of “mini-doberman.”  The body may be small, but the attitude is super-sized.

The “B” stands for Queen Bee (or Bitch) of Cell Block D.  She was punking every dog under 40 pounds. Those who gave any resistance had to be restrained.

There was a little deep growl and a lunge to knock that other dog to the ground. She would stand over them like Muhammad Ali over Sonny Liston.

Stole the image from here.

We could never let Susan B. Anthony off the leash. We would have been breaking up fights all morning.

Big dogs, Susan was fine. She sniffed, she checked assholes and moved on.

We were sauntering down the beach, Susan checked on the leash, Carol loose around our feet.  We met the first small dog.

Susan growls, sets her feet like a middle-linebacker and lunges. Suddenly Carol’s fear was gone.

She barked so hard it lifted her off the ground like a cartoon puppy.

The fur on her back is up like she’s a real dog or something.

Rinse and repeat for the next 3 morning walks.  The Boy and I are wondering the beach of Del Mar with our street gang of mini thugs — threatening and pushing every small dog into the ocean.

Carol Baskins, top, and Susan B. Anthony,  gang bangers at rest.

No amount of pulling, prodding, or yelling could get our Del Mar Diablos to heel. We should have bought matching leather jackets or hoodies or something for us and the dogs.

If you are going to rent a week of time with the 1 percent, you might as well look good when you threaten their dogs.