Dogs alway believe that they look great, they can be fresh from a roll in the muck in a pig pen, and they will smile, wag and expect a nice snuggle or ear scratch. Dogs don't care if they are groomed or not, bathed or not. Some might not mind, though many do, we humans imposing our idea of beauty and freshness on them.
In many ways I find dogs easier to photograph than people. They never worry about their hair, or their teeth, or what they are wearing, well maybe the wiener dog forced into the yellow raincoat would prefer to not be wearing the rain coat. After all the underside is getter wet just the same, especially when the underside is so close to the ground.
I was a latecomer to liking dogs. Growing up my father and grandfather had "hunting dogs" though my fathers was never much for hunting, but always up to chasing the nearest car, truck or school bus. He caught a school bus one time, that is how he lost his tail, snagged it on the bumper and needed an emergency trip to the vet to stop the bleeding.
One summer we dog sat for friends with an Irish-setter who was a proper house dog. That was fun, she was well behaved and a delight to have around. The owners were having a new house built, and all too soon, the house was finished and they wanted their dog back.
For some reason after that I developed a distrust of dogs. I don't know why. It took decades to get over, my sister's dog restored my faith in canine kind. He is missed, I wonder how long until another dog enters her life.
Sometimes I am tempted to carry dog treats in my pocket when I walk, but I worry that the dog might be sensitive, or allergic, or something and I wouldn't want to hurt one. Not even the little noise box down the hall.
I can't imagine either of us following a dog around with a plastic bag on our hand, so I doubt we will ever live with one. There are plenty around to enjoy.
We had dogs when I was a kid, but they were always "outside dogs." They were not allowed in the house. They lived outdoors in a doghouse, even in winter (with insulation and a blanket to lie on.) No one walked them or carried little poop bags behind them. They ran freely around town, doing what dogs do, like every other dog. Those were the days.
ReplyDeleteMy father's dog couldn't be left to run free, he couldn't find his way back home.
DeleteI can't think of a time where I've never not had a dog. Oh I know is that for a long day it sure is lovely to come home to waiting doggy.
ReplyDeleteOr the houseboys waiting for you.
DeleteWe had a cocker spaniel for about half a minute when I was around 5. Family friends had a dog that had puppies. My mother told us when they moved to LA they couldn't take the puppy with them. One day, she was gone and my mother said the “little boy” who used to own the puppy was crying himself to sleep and they had to give her back. To this day, I have no idea where the dog came from or where it went. When I brought it up one time years and years later, my mother said, “Well, I was the one stuck cleaning up after it and walking it!” I love dogs — but am not keen on picking up poop in a plastic bag.
ReplyDeleteAnd SG deals with the cat box.
DeleteBut I have been known to do it on occasion.
DeleteMy last dog was a 150 lb. Great Pyrenees mix and I had to find the largest poop bags for him! It would have been very rude to leave those piles wherever he dropped them. I loved walking with him.
ReplyDeleteThat is a lot of dog,
DeleteAwwww....these guys are so cute. I miss having a dog. I'm lucky that all my friends have dogs I can enjoy.
ReplyDeleteI was talking with a friend recently who has an aging dog that does not do well at the kennel, they need a house/dog sitter when they go away for a few days. Both they and the dog would do better.
DeleteI am quite fond of dogs; when you're tired of dogs you're tired of life.
ReplyDeleteI thought that was London?
DeleteThe actual quote isn't dogs or London but tea.
Delete