What? I dunno.
Earlier this week we had our monthly board meeting with the non-profit I work for. Because the weather is nice (allegedly) and because they are trying to break me (more likely) they held the meeting in Coquitlam (muy lejos on the highway, meester!!) at one of the board member’s homes, instead of in my downtown office building. I brought Mr. Woo along with me, as he wanted to play with Leo, the resident dog.
1) Because there was a baby in residence, and Mr. Woo (unlike Tweed) is good with babies
2) I can leave the house with ONE dog, which is Mr. Woo; ALL dogs or NO dogs. Mr. Woo does not stand for me taking another dog out without him. The last time I tried to take Tweed to the store, Mr. Woo busted down the babygate and was hurling himself against the front door screaming. What kind of separation anxiety is this? He doesn’t do this when I leave for work or otherwise leave the house with no dogs! What a spoiled rotten little brat!
Like, The Gettin’ A Cookie From Food Lady angle
Or I’m Really Old, Let Me Get Up Close And Personal To Smell You angle
And of course the OMGINEEDTHATCOOKEAREYOUGOINGTOGIVEITGIVEITGIVEITTOMENOW!!! angle
And there’s always the Ridiculously Happy Dog angle
The Mr Woo and Food Lady Both Have Skinny Legs angle
And then, there was the beach.
Someone asked me the other day how many shots I have to take in a session and how many of them turn out to be winners. That varies from session to session. I can, however, show you some photos that I like to call Almost Famous. I get quite a lot of these shots.
This one is *almost* awesome. Except it isn’t, and that makes it ass.
And … oops.
And I’m not sure what category this falls into even. I don’t have an interpretive dance section!
But Wootie tries to make up for the bad photos by providing me with the opportunity to take good photos.
1) I learned that Sport is not entirely sure what “Stay” means, as he kept getting up and leaving
2) I lost my balance as I was taking the photo and fell over, so the photo is crooked!! But still cute.
Sport continues to do just fine on the Prednisone. He thinks raw chicken is pretty gross, but likes raw lamb quite a bit. He likes to run a lot now, which is disconcerting, as he looks like a Zombie from a proper Zombie movie (ie, not the Fast Zombies movies that are all the rage nowdays) when he does it, but he can motor along pretty good.
He is still skinny, but now he just looks like a skinny old dog, so people don’t make “tsk tsk” sounds under their breath when I walk past them anymore. But having a Really Old Dog is kind of like a competitive sport (pardon the pun) … when I run into other people with other Really Old Dogs it gets a little tense. So far, I have won every encounter … my going-on-17 year old dog is always older than your dog!