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Entries in dog (6)


Moving Parts

180.365 50mm f3.2 1/400 ISO 100A former colleague, Meg, and her husband, Matt, are launching The Bear and The Rat, a line of frozen yogurt for dogs.  She contacted me a few weeks ago, wondering if I would shoot their hot-off-the-presses packaging and some portraits of the two of them for pitching press.  I immediately started imagining a Matt-as-Pied-Piper theme with lots of dogs following him around begging for fro-yo.

Yeah, right.  So sayeth the woman who is used to shooting one human at a time.

We set up shop in Meg and Matt's backyard yesterday afternoon with their two dogs (the eponymous muses of The Bear and The Rat) and a five others (including my dog, Milo), several cases of frozen yogurt, and a pitcher of margaritas.  Here is what I learned:

1) Milo (the hound dog in the above picture) is a slut for any kind of attention and will sit intently on cue if you offer him frozen yogurt.  His favorite flavor appears to be Choc 'O' Not.  Even more than Bacon Peanut Barker.  Go figure.

2) If you shoot enough frames, eventually you get a few where all the humans and the dogs look good  at the same time.  Or all look the right kind of goofy anyway.

3) One margarita is exactly the right amount of lubrication to make me relax, look for the light, and push the button.  Instead of worrying about whether everybody's looking goofy or if my dog is going to vomit when I get him home because I let him eat too much fro-yo.  (For the record, he did not.)

I'm excited for Meg and Matt as they move into full-fleged launch mode.  And for Milo, since I see lots of frozen yogurt in his future.


Best Friend

94.365 50mm f1.4 1/15 ISO 1600I'm back to feeling strangled by the lack of sunlight at the end of the day, and since shooting a picture of my cubicle everyday is no way to encourage people to come see this work, I made another portrait last night.  This is Milo, our long-suffering canine friend who may or may not be a Plott Hound.  I say long-suffering because he had the misfortune of being our first "baby," and as such spent a few glorious years as the apple of my eye.  We hiked and back-country skied together.  We snuggled and threw balls.  That hound nose was expert in sniffing out love.

And then we had a human baby and, well, you know what that does to the puppy primacy.

So now he's our mopey teenager, and we still love him but we don't do as much of the fun stuff that used to blow his ears back.  At least we'll always have peanut butter.


Noble Beast

78.365 50mm f3.2 1/800 ISO 200Years ago my mom and stepdad hit upon a cure for empty nest syndrome in the form of German Shephard Dogs.  They shed a lot more than us kids ever did, but I will say this for them: they are handsome creatures.  I threw the stick for this one, Bax, in the snow yesterday as a ruse for getting him to pose for me.  He does strike me as a soulful being, which I think comes through in this picture, even if his adolescent goofiness does not.


Simple Math

70.365 92mm f7.1 1/200 ISO 400Corinna off work + sick-ish, irascible toddler =  MUST get out of house.

So what does one do after subjecting one's child to multiple pre-Christmas runs to Target?  (I know, I know.  I've got to learn to make lists.)  Well it was a 50 degree day.  I decided to introduce him to the skate park.

Yes, I realize this is equal parts parenting genius and lunacy.  Especially given how utterly rapt the child was at the sight of all those black-skinny-jean-clad big boys zipping around on wheels.

And while I would (will?) probably have heartburn if my boy decides to spend his spare time at the skate park, it was exactly what I needed today: something to distract the boy, and a chance to shoot a real-live moving target, to capture a moment I didn't contrive on my own.  When I saw the guy skating with his chihuahua tucked under his arm I couldn't help but think oh yeah.  I've got to get out more often.


Raison D'être

35.365 45mm f5.3 1/125 ISO 400I watched this husky practically prance through yesterday morning's light snow.  She was actually smiling, looking for all the world like she had been waiting for this weather through the long hot months and now that it was here her sled dog genes were urging her on in a propulsive burst of bliss.  She just had so much graceful momentum.

It made me wonder what it would be like to have a purpose so clear that it's not even necessary to think about it, that it's just coded into you.  How would it be to just be on the path, with confidence?  There would be no need to fret over it.  It would just fit.  You would simply do it because you couldn't not do it.  And I imagine it would look a lot like joy.

Anybody out there on that path?  How did you find it?