Okay, okay, so she’s named after one of the wolf-y things from that TV show that everyone else seems to follow but me. I don’t care, she is gorgeous and happy and my new friend so there.
I ran into Nymeria shopping at Walgreens.
Those are some strange markings for a malamute, never seen anything quite like them before.
Definitely had the malamute attitude, though. Playful, friendly, and mischievous.
If you have to stand behind someone in the pharmacy line, it might as well be an awesome dog.
Two things things about Gomez: one, he is nine! That’s pretty good for a Great Dane, and he seems to be in pretty good shape, getting around all right, able to see just fine (the unusual-colored eyes are just his coloration, not anything wrong), and so forth. He’s a sweetheart, too, but you didn’t need me to tell you that… just about every Great Dane is.
Two, ‘Gomez’ as a dog’s name always reminds me of the old Eric Bogle song… about a Chihuahua named Little Gomez who has an ill-fated romantic liaison with a St. Bernard. A Great Dane doesn’t quite fit the profile.
Don’t think I’ve ever run across a Dane with blue eyes before.
That’s Jazz, who seemed quite happy to meet this gentle giant.
Last Thursday night the sunset was quite pretty, and I just happened to be walking by City Hall at the right time.
Our sunsets are usually pretty tame. It’s nice to have an exception every once in a while.
Saw this kitty while wandering around Oakland. Super-derp!
He’s just big-boned! No, it’s all fluff! (I know all of these excuses. I use them for myself all the time.)
It’s always nice to see an outdoor kitty who is up for a little attention.
Of course, once I started petting him, he wouldn’t let me stop.
This is what, the fourth time that Autumn and/or I have had a chance to dog-sit for Jazz, the sweetest flat-coated retriever in San Francisco? And this time Autumn’s down with walking pneumonia, so I get to take Jazz. (Don’t worry, Autumn is recovering quite quickly, and is more or less back up to speed, but it still seems a little rude to have someone bringing pneumonia germs with her to a client’s house.)
I’ve posted some pictures of Jazz before, but they didn’t do her justice, so I tried to get a few more today while we were out for a nice long walk.
She’s got such a great smile.
She also still has the puppy head tilt when I make a funny noise.
Even with the little bit of grey fur, I would totally have guessed Jazz to be half her age… or less. She still dances with puppies like a two-year-old.
I have in my notes that this pup is a Chihuahua Pomeranian mix, but nothing else about her. But I do remember her, because I was walking around near Ghirardelli Square a few weeks ago and ran across this dog, just wandering around with nobody attached to her. She wouldn’t let anyone get near her, and was super-skittish even with people who were far away. And I thought, ‘Where did you escape from?’
Nope. There were some people having a picnic about 30 or 40 feet away, and eventually I followed her back to them. Apparently she’s always that skittish, but she’s pretty good about not wandering too far.
Not, perhaps, my favorite style of dog-wear.
Still, if she likes it, who am I to judge?
I think these two are puggles (pug/beagle crosses) but I am not certain. They’ve definitely got some pug in them, though.
Also: you know you’ve been photoblogging for too long when you type a query into google image search, see an image and think, ‘oh, that’s cute’, click on it, and it’s from your own damn blog.
Puggles do woebegone almost as well as golden retrievers.
See? Pleading, pathetic look. Tongue out. An absolute beg-master. I suspect food changed hands shortly after this shot.
I was walking down Polk Street the other day, right near one of my new favorite restaurants. (Mmm, Burmese food. Not to be confused with Bernese food, of course. Or, for that matter, Bernie’s food.) backwards, trying to catch a last couple of pictures of another dog (which I’ll be posting sometime soon). And I suddenly felt something poke me in the leg. I looked down, and it was this gorgeous fellow, letting me know gently but firmly that he was not going to be ignored, and I was not going to get away without paying the dog tax.
Affable, fearless, and not the slightest bit shy about asking for what he wants. I want to be a black German shepherd when I grow up.
Also, why I did I write this up, get it all ready, and then go to bed without hitting ‘publish’?
It’s the patented ‘German shepherd grin’. It gets me every time.
Could you say ‘no’ to a face like that?
So there I was, minding my own business, out to pick up some medicine for Autumn, when what should I run across but a half dozen puppies congregating outside of a local pet store for their weekly puppy class?
It was too dark for most of my pictures to come out, drat it, but I did my best for you.
They all got along great, although one of them was definitely a bit more dominant than the others.
…and it was definitely not the Rottweiler.
Who nevertheless was having the time of her life. (I love that expression.)
She made new friends quick, too.
I should’ve audited the class. How much do you suppose it costs per credit-hour?
Ran into a couple of these guys wandering a street fair in Oakland. No idea why, but it’s fine by me.
They seemed friendly enough, but I wouldn’t get too close without an invitation, and I didn’t get invited.