brindle, white, and grey.
October 28, 2011 | Filed Under dogs, personal | 7 Comments
Her tail wags extra fast because it’s extra short. If you were describing her colour, you’d have to say that she’s bridle, white, and grey now that the grey has migrated past her muzzle and over her whole face. I still think she looks like a tiger. Her white chest (her flash) is shaped like an upside down heart if you’re in the right mood and you look at it fast enough. She likes walks, and meat and bread, and patrolling her yard, making sure no birds land on the grass. She takes that job very seriously.
Mojo is 11 years old now. She’s a slight, polite, very lady-like brindle boxer who has lived in Brookfield all of her life. She’s an icon, of sorts. She’s allowed in the schools, the post office, the bakery- she’s allowed pretty much anywhere she wants to go. She never wears a leash and never leaves her yard. When I walk her, people say hello to her and not to me (I’m not a Brookfield native). One little boy even asked “Miss, is this your dog?” as Mojo was sniffing a lamp pole about 10 feet behind me. I replied no, and before I could explain that I was just walking her he said “Oh, Mojo. Come on, I’ll take you home.”
When I walk into Dane’s parents’ house, Mojo is the first one to greet me. She snuffs and paws at me, her little tail wagging all the way up to her ears. She is old and the greeting ritual only lasts a few moments before she resumes her post at the kitchen entrance in hopes of something making its way to her dish. Without knowing it, she breaks the ice. “Mojo looks great,” I say, commenting on her coat, or her recent weight gain. Dane’s mom usually turns to look at her, smiling. His dad calls her over and takes a few playful swats at her, the old dog reciprocating with flying paws in his direction. If she’s really feisty, she makes a little noise- somewhere between a squeak and a growl- whatever it is, it means she’s happy. And when she’s happy, it means the family can be happy. And without knowing it, the old brindle and white and grey dog is the mortar that holds the big strong bricks of that household, of that family, in place.
the best one.
June 15, 2011 | Filed Under Photoshoots, dogs, people, random | 5 Comments
As I sit in my new office of my new house on my new 27″ iMac (thank you Dane for all of these things!), Carrie sits not 5 feet away in her (read: Dane’s) white armchair, wheezing. She only wheezes when she’s happy and relaxed- which is most of the time. She is the best one.
She follows me from room to room, and comes running as soon as she hears any sort of movement from the kitchen. She makes herself as flat and motionless as possible when I walk into the bedroom, moving only her eyes from her camouflaged position amongst the black blankets on the bed. “I see you, Carrie,” I say to her, and she can’t help but wag her tail softly, totally giving herself away, the speed increasing as I get closer. I pull my hands inside my sleeves and before I can sit down, she pounces on me, attacking the clothed nubs that were once hands made for patting and giving treats. She will only bite and play if you have something covering your skin. I often wonder where she learned these things- how to play-fight, knowing exactly when to stop, how to sit pretty and how to sing to me in the morning, how she got so saucy if I didn’t put her leash on fast enough, how she balances on sidewalk curbs when we go for walks in the morning. Then I realize that she learned it all from me. She is saucy and neurotic and demands to be fed on time. She prefers walking to running and doesn’t really see the need to get all panty and out of breath. She loves having visitors come to the house. She likes rolling around in the grass. She loves cookies and shrimp and Dane.
Carrie barks at me when I tell her to sit, and I raise my eyebrows and laugh- wondering when she became so outspoken. Mary rolls her eyes and asks me when I became so outspoken. I miss the hint- her telling me that my dog and I are exactly alike. I wipe the dirt off my own bum, then off of Carrie’s back and tell her that it’s time to go home. We hop in the car and as we turn up the hill to our house I turn the music down for a second- I hear her wheezing in the back seat I can’t help but smile to myself knowing that I have the best one.
feathers and kilts
May 25, 2011 | Filed Under Photoshoots, dogs, horses, people | Leave a Comment
A little taste of Scotland on the Gentle Island.
Robyn and Darren- Engaged!
February 26, 2011 | Filed Under dogs, people, weddings | 1 Comment
It was a surprise. Like, total surprise. Darren meticulously wrapped, duct taped, re-wrapped, tied, and wrapped her present, one last time, just for good measure. Robyn said her first thought was “Oh, some jewelery. Good job, Darren.” When she figured out what it was, she started crying. And kept crying. Sobbing, almost. Poor Darren. He told her if she didn’t like it that he’d bring it back- get her a new one. At that Robyn was able to compose herself and let it settle in that she was engaged. Getting married. To Darren. She told me that she felt like the luckiest girl in the world. That it was the best day of her life. I said “Really? Like, positive that it was THE BEST day of your life?” She looked down at her left hand, smiled at me as she looked up, and said “yeah” and nodded as she turned to watch Darren walk out of the tack room near the back of the barn.
I love those moments. I love that my job is to capture those moments and to be with those people who make those moments into pictures that should be taken. I really love my clients, too :)
bits and pieces
April 23, 2010 | Filed Under dogs, personal | 1 Comment
I love saying that- bits and pieces. I think it’s because it reminds me of ‘bits and bites,’ you know those snacks that you got in a bag in junior high that you’d scarf down at recess? They were sixty-five cents when I was in grade 8 (back when I was a kid…). I hated them, actually. But to smell them now reminds me of being a kid and walking the halls of the high school between classes. Completely off topic. Plus, ‘bits and pieces’ rolls off your tongue. I’m planning on putting little bits and little pieces of my life into my blog. If you’re a faithful reader, you’ll connect everything together and when you meet me in person (if you haven’t already) you’ll know way more about me than I know about you…and it’ll be a little awkward, but a lot flattering for me.
The piece I’m going to let you in on today is Carrie. Carrie is my dog. My very faithful when I have food and let her on the bed, little (actually medium) black (mostly), white, and tan dog. She is part australian cattle dog, and part rat terrier, apparently. Who knows. She was found in the woods in Missouri with eight puppies and was taken to a rescue centre where they rehabilitated her. I read a story about her on the internet and called about her right away. She was home within a month. I thought she was the biggest mistake I’d ever made. She bit people, and growled. She chased kids. She was shy and scared easily over silly things. Have I ever changed my mind since then. Getting Carrie is the one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. She is the perfect dog. I take her everywhere with me. She is very polite and wins people over right away (except for Bobby Sill, she still despises him, for some strange reason). She doesn’t run away. She listens very well. And I swear she’ll just start talking on of these days. She’s getting older now- she’s eight, and is an easy keeper, let’s say. The white on her face is mysteriously migrating towards her eyes and around her whiskers- I call it natural highlighting. Her eyes are getting a little cloudy, and she has trouble jumping up on the bed as stealthily as she once did. I’m coming to appreciate her more, as it’s becoming apparent that she’s not going to be around forever (first time I’ve ever publicly acknowledged that my dog isn’t going to grow old with me). But for now, she’s just as perfect as she’s ever been. And just as perfect as she always will be.
Here are some pictures of us at Victoria Park today. My friend Mary Atkinson took them for us.
