Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Summer Returns




Summer has decided to have one last blast. The boys are happy about it. They are also hot, squinty, and drooly. Ahhhh Summer, long may you last.  Even as the leaves are starting to change and drift  it seems impossible that summer 2010 is all but faded.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones
Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved
Friday, September 24, 2010

Where Do You Think You Are Going?

weimaraner breed puppy suspicious
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
Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Going Bananas


I get an email from my husband this morning asking, Did a dog get my bananas? They were sure beat up. That pretty must sums up what is like at my house most days. I write back and tell him-Yes, a dog had your bananas, but only one bunch. =0)

The dog in question is Caelan. He will not leave the bananas alone. I have wrote about his love before. He takes them out on the deck or behind the A/C unit, peels one, and only one, and eats it. He just mauls the rest. The other day I look over and there is a banana peel in the window frame where he likes to stalk the squirrels. I have to admit to laughing my head off, as it takes you by surprise. What IS that? Oh.....

I moved the bananas from the kitchen table, to the countertop, to a fruit bowl, to the windowsill. He has gotten so tall, there is nowhere safe. Bananas are a funny thing though. Once you move them from the countertop it is out of sight out of mind. You only remember them when they ooze out of your cabinet way passed the point of banana bread. You pray the stems don't break before you get their squishy bodies to the garbage can and unceremoniously plop to the floor. I already use the oven and microwave as a bread box. Can you put them in the fridge? I never have, but I can see them getting shoved back behind the milk and the proverbial science project is born. I really need to come up with a plan, and soon.
As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones
Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved
Monday, September 20, 2010

In Red

This photo was taken last summer. Due to his birthing day, this is the third summer we have spent with Taren. Yet he is not quite two and a half. He is well loved, the Frisbee is a gift from his daddy, and the collar sent from my good friend Amber. He is part of our lives and will always be a part of my heart. He has now lost his puppy fat, he is leaner, and has matured. I see how he has come into his own. I also see the passage of time, and it squeezes about my chest, like a pair of jeans two sizes too tight, hot and chafing. I hope to have many, many more summers with my boy. With new toys, bright fun collars, and his silly Weimer ways. He is well loved.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones.
Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved
Thursday, September 16, 2010

My Helper


German Shorthaired Pointer

As some of you know I am on my second week of jury duty, six more weeks to go. In an effort to break the ice and pass time I decided to make cookies. If cookies can't get a group of strangers to engage with each other, I don't know what will. The uncomfortable silences are killing me, so let's eat. LOL I dug out my measuring cups and general supplies only to figure out I have no baking soda and not enough butter. *sigh* I have jury duty, I am not suffering the indignity of having to go to the store too. I work out a couple conversions and fast pace it ahead, hoping for the best. The group doesn't know I am making cookies so I figure if they are terrible the long suffering husband, eater of failed experiments past, will have a metric ton of cookies at his disposal. I start to measure out the ingredients and wonder where all my measuring cups went. Then I turn to see where Caelan went, stealer of all things not nailed down. He is on the deck along with two measuring cups, a spatula, butter knife and measuring spoon. His expression indicates he is quite pleased with himself and only too happy to help. I pat my helper on the head, let him keep the chewed up spatula, load the rest in the dishwasher, and drag out some more utensils. The rest of the afternoon goes without issue, with the boys gated off the kitchen.


The cookies were a hit, and for all my misfortune turned out to be really, really yummy. I made peanut butter Butterfinger and chocolate chunk Oreo, and the conversation flowed. I am not sure what I will follow this up with in the coming weeks, but it appears my jury cohorts are eaters.

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

Copyright Grey Dog Photography 2010, All Rights Reserved