I love the New York Times
And I love good writing. And dogs. :)
My Life As A Dog"I adopted George (a Great Dane/Lab/pit/greyhound/ridgeback/whatever mix — aka Brooklyn shorthair) because I thought it would be fun. As it turns out, she is a major pain an awful lot of the time.
"She mounts guests, eats my son’s toys (and occasionally tries to eat my son), is obsessed with squirrels, lunges at skateboarders and Hasids, has the savant-like ability to find her way between the camera lens and subject of every photo taken in her vicinity, backs her tush into the least interested person in the room, digs up the freshly planted, scratches the newly bought, licks the about-to-be served and occasionally relieves herself on the wrong side of the front door. Her head is resting on my foot as I type this. I love her."Hee.
I've been thinking of doing that whole 365 days thing on Flickr. You know, 365 days of self-portraits. Last night, I had the perfect one if I just had my camera in-hand. I was sitting on the ground and Buddy was sitting on my lap while Sebastian and Gretchen used the rest of me as a boxing ring. It always happens that way: I go outside, happily go pet the dogs one-by-one, settle into a chair so someone can come get some lap-time, and within about 45 seconds, they start fighting, possibly over me but more probably just, well, because. So there I was, sitting Indian-style on the ground, with one little dog on me and the two others crawling all over me, trying to bite one another. I caught my reflection in the sliding glass door and had to laugh. Those retarded (and when I say retarded, I mean that in the warmest, fondest way possible) dogs. :)