Behind Blue Eyes

When we brought Taren home he was a sweet, blue eyed bundle, of Weimer joy. Just like most puppies I would guess. He would eat, sleep, play, and routinely trot you down the stairs for potty breaks. Time passed and he morphed out of the very young puppy stage into the- Holy Crap! There goes the furniture stage. The- We need a new garbage can, with a lock, phase. Followed by the- Quit eating the ever loving bark, rocks, sticks, and everything that was not nailed down stage. Somewhere along this line we were fairly convinced we had brought home a really goofy, ten year old boy, with a bad case of hyperactivity. One that could not quite grasp the meaning of no, down, off, or for the love of doG not those shoes! He was much more kid than dog. Every once in a while you would capture a photo, and there it would be. This glint of boyish charm, and something in the eyes that made you think he had pulled off something grand.

The Serious Side

Let's face it, there are dog lovers, and there are non dog lovers. When the two meet, there is sure to be a raised eyebrow or two. The boys are part of our family and are indoor dogs. They eat, sleep and play in the house. Anyone that is a dog lover knows there are certain things that come with the territory. You never leave the house without a pass over with a lint brush. You can be assured, on occasion, to pick a dog hair off your dinner plate. If you have food they expect, no demand, you share. They can drag in more dirt, leaves, and mud than any pack of kids hands down. They drool, fart, and burp. They filch your keys, eat your shoes, and polish off a cell phone or two. You have no privacy. They stare at you while you eat, shower, or use the bathroom, and they always want to help. They stand on the back of your leather couch, all the better to stalk the neighbors. They share your pillow at night, and on more than one occasion have woke up nose to nose with a pup. They also hijack the blankets and hog the bed. They lick your hand lotion, they stick their tongue in your ear, and they will wash your face. They steal anything you have in your pockets, leave on the counters, or forgot on the floor. It's all fun and games to a dog, and I will admit, fun for this dog lover too.  99% of what they do I shrug off. They are a couple of lovable, thugs. The joy they bring to my life compensates for their naughty deeds. Yes, I could train the behavior away, but you would not get any more bad boy stories and frankly, I do not choose to. Right up and until the non dog lover, dog lover combo collide. You feel a little hangdog as they empty their jowls on the floor after a good drink of water, and wipe their face on the companies nice slacks. You begin to see your pups through their eyes and try to stem the tide. Which is difficult at times.  Barring doggie boot camp how do you handle guests in your home that may not be as tolerant of doggie behavior as us dog lovers?

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Where Do You Think You Are Going?

Suspicious Weimaraner Puppy

Taren has spent the majority of his life suspicious that you might possibly be going somewhere, and you may not be taking him. Subsequently, I think he spends much of his time trying to figure out how he is going to get around that. He follows me watching for signs. Probably the dead give away is I put on shoes. I am a barefoot kind of gal. I can see the internal debate as to whether he thinks he is going of not. He stands by the door and wags his tail, his whole body really. He gets his infectious grin, and I hate to have to take him upstairs. I usually bribe him with a cookie, more for my sake than his. His whole body slumps and he looks dejected. It makes me feel guilty. Usually he heads up the stairs knowing the routine. Sometimes he lays on the carpet and refuses to budge. Usually a snap of the fingers and a sharp- Taren!, gets him moving, but not always. In those cases you have to dig out the big guns, cheese. I pick my battles. Recently I have had Jury Duty and I have to be gone every Wednesday for eight weeks. He knows the signs, and he is not happy about it. I have long suspected that Taren flirts with the edges of very mild separation anxiety. I fear my Jury Duty may push it over the edge.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

Baby Taren

If you look carefully in my last photo (below) you will see a puppy in the front with a black collar. That is baby Taren. We went to visit him weeks before we brought him home and took him a new collar and an ID tag with his name on it. It is hard to believe my big strapping boy was ever that little. While it is hard to beat a puppy, I do not miss those sharp little teeth, and the days and nights of potty training. Now we have moved on to bigger and better things. Last night one of the dogs stole a box of Ziplocks off the counter and I had a 150 sandwich baggies all over the living room and backyard. I can imagine they had a blast pulling the baggies out one at a time, much like destuffing their plushies. It took forever to pick them all up, but all in all I find it rather amusing, which I am sure in part is why the continue to be the little menaces they are. They are just doing their part in keeping the momma happy.

Roly-Poly

Can you spot Taren?

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved

The Face Of Guilt

I didn't do it, it was those cats.

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved