Vacations are supposed to be a break from reality. Sun, sea, slow mornings, coffee at the beach whilst the dogs go on their morning walk. But sometimes, reality doesn’t get the memo.

Take Alex, our sweet, beach-loving dog. He usually runs straight for the sand like he’s auditioning for Baywatch. This time? After his attack, he’s limping, in pain, and suddenly the beach – his favorite place – doesn’t interest him anymore. And because he’s not going, neither are we, and neither are the other doggos (sorry sweeties, it’s not fair to him.) 

It’s funny how one event, one accident, can shift the entire shape of an experience. The vacation stopped being about me unwinding and started being about him healing. And oddly enough, I don’t resent it. Not even a little.

Because maybe that’s the real truth: when things are going great, life always sneaks in with a test. An interruption. A flare-up. Something to remind us that bliss isn’t about nothing going wrong; it’s about how we adapt when it does.

Instead of the beach, there are quiet mornings. Instead of salty swims, gentle cuddles with Alex. Instead of our plan, life’s plan. And honestly? It wasn’t worse. Just… different.

So maybe vacations, like relationships, aren’t about chasing the perfect picture. Maybe they’re about holding space for the unexpected, and still finding joy in what remains.

Because sometimes the universe cancels your beach day. And sometimes it replaces it with healing love in Alex’s resting spots in the garden.