(From 11/04/2006)
I have had this picture of Geordie for about a year. I love its dark, spooky-sweet quality. I also like the depth of expression in his eyes and the softness under what living with him has revealed to me as sheer determination. He is in some ways deeper than Crater Lake. I am obviously biased. I think he's beautiful. I believe that both
Not everyone does. About five years ago, a woman in my obedience class with a "perfect" Golden Retriever and a stick rammed up her proverbial posterior commented to me, "What a mean-looking dog!" Then, a few days later, she added, "If he were my dog, I would have given up on him years ago."
She did go on to earn a CD with her automaton-dog, but so did we. Okay, she scored in the 190's and we-- umm-- qualified and Geordie earned his, as well-- but not as well but he is a COMPANION DOG. No one, of course, specifies what kind, though.
That just made me love him more. Sherie (I doubt she'd read this) will probably not sue me, but she didn't last too long in Dog Obedience Instructor Jim Read's class. Having a sense of humor is sine qua non. Sherie lacked that in spades.
She didn't hate Maggie so much. She mostly ignored her, nose snubbed. We sort of. Mostly, her nose was fixed in a permanent snub.
I was taken aback. (It probably warmed the ****les of Geordie's heart.)
From Holy Terrier Dog Designs
Irons in so many fires. At least the canine stomachs are full-- for now. Tripe and organic greens. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Too wet to handle. The deluge outside-- and now the darkness-- makes a fabulous excuse for skipping our daily walkabout. A few trips to the yard through the dog door is all M and G have to look forward to. And maybe a bit of Romaine lettuce to satisfy the palette.
Now it's past "deluge." It's really roaring outside like a mini-tsunami. But we're about five hundred feet above sea level, sort of on the Mt. Ararat of Oregon City.
I have had this picture of Geordie for about a year. I love its dark, spooky-sweet quality. I also like the depth of expression in his eyes and the softness under what living with him has revealed to me as sheer determination. He is in some ways deeper than Crater Lake. I am obviously biased. I think he's beautiful. I believe that both
Not everyone does. About five years ago, a woman in my obedience class with a "perfect" Golden Retriever and a stick rammed up her proverbial posterior commented to me, "What a mean-looking dog!" Then, a few days later, she added, "If he were my dog, I would have given up on him years ago."
She did go on to earn a CD with her automaton-dog, but so did we. Okay, she scored in the 190's and we-- umm-- qualified and Geordie earned his, as well-- but not as well but he is a COMPANION DOG. No one, of course, specifies what kind, though.
That just made me love him more. Sherie (I doubt she'd read this) will probably not sue me, but she didn't last too long in Dog Obedience Instructor Jim Read's class. Having a sense of humor is sine qua non. Sherie lacked that in spades.
She didn't hate Maggie so much. She mostly ignored her, nose snubbed. We sort of. Mostly, her nose was fixed in a permanent snub.
I was taken aback. (It probably warmed the ****les of Geordie's heart.)
Still, I call this shot:
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From Holy Terrier Dog Designs
Irons in so many fires. At least the canine stomachs are full-- for now. Tripe and organic greens. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Too wet to handle. The deluge outside-- and now the darkness-- makes a fabulous excuse for skipping our daily walkabout. A few trips to the yard through the dog door is all M and G have to look forward to. And maybe a bit of Romaine lettuce to satisfy the palette.
Now it's past "deluge." It's really roaring outside like a mini-tsunami. But we're about five hundred feet above sea level, sort of on the Mt. Ararat of Oregon City.
We're staying in for the night.
Jill, Geord, Mag
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