Most of my pictures of Maple came out unusable, due to contrast issues. But I just had to show him to you because he may have the longest, fluffiest, sticky-outy-est fur I’ve ever seen in my life. He has fur as long as an Old English Sheepdog does, but it stands out straight instead of flopping down. How?
Not sure what makes him so fluffy, but it’s amazing.
These two were clearly made for each other.
Sorry if I’m disappointing anyone, but I think both of them are taken. 🙂
Can anyone look at those two and not grin?
A friend of Autumn’s has a lovely dog that she has to give up temporarily — they are moving into a place they can’t keep the dog, but are trying as hard as they can to find someplace that they can, and are trying to buy, rather than rent, which makes things easier. In the mean time, though, they need someone to take care of Finbarr, just for a few months.
According to Robin, he’s three years old, and very likely a ridgeback mix, which means high energy: he really needs an hour or more of exercise a day. He doesn’t get along well with cats, and may or may not get along with another dog… he’s apparently pretty dominant with them, though he’s fine around people. He has a loud bark, but if you don’t have dogs passing your home in sight/smell range on a regular basis this may not be a problem.
On the up side: he love his ball, so he’s easy to exercise, although I bet (speculation on my part) that he’d love to go jogging with someone too. He’s super-sweet and friendly with people. He’s well house-trained: no chewing, no ‘mistakes’, no doggie vandalism.
So, who will bite on this exclusive once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
Hey, high-energy dogs require a lot of rest for those giant explosive bursts of energy.
Yup, I can definitely see the ridgeback. Almost like a ridgeback/malinois mix.
These two were both napping on a cross-town bus. I wish I hadn’t cut off the guy’s head, but I got the important one, right?
I’ve fallen asleep on an SF MUNI bus once. I woke up with what felt like a dislocated neck.
A meeting of the foxiest dog I’ve seen in quite some time and the leopardiest dog I’ve seen likewise.
Edit: Aww, man, I hate when I screw up the hovertext.
Edit x2: According to Quixote’s mom (in the comments below), the Catahoula puppy is named Bingo. Amazing that he’s the first dog named Bingo I’ve ever met.
A perfect head tilt. I’m in love already.
This is the closest I got to a still shot of Quixote. Both of them were on the hyper side after a day indoors, but Quixote just didn’t stop!
Whereas this pup slowed down just long enough to gaze soulfully into my eyes.
They were having a blast. I’m glad the owners weren’t first-time dog owners because some of the stuff they were getting up to looks quite terrifying if you don’t know how much fun they’re having.
I’m not sure if sharper images would make these funnier or not. That’s pretty hilarious the way it is.
Quixote tagged the Catahoula and then ran over to his dad, who was apparently ‘the base’ in this game of tag, and then just stopped dead while the Catahoula ran around him.
Our guest is a … rather intact fawn Great Dane. Clearly a ‘red dog’ partisan.
Okay, that’s not literally true, but she really does seem to display at least three of the five stages of grief amazingly well, if not in order.
An example of the reverse of yesterday. Making herself small, looking kind of cowed, a little bit of a scowl, but I was like, “Oh god you just want petting, don’t you?” Yes, she did. (Stage: anger.)
Pit bulls can give even bassets and bulldogs a run for their money in the ‘sad look’ department. (Stage: depression, obviously.)
One, two, three: AWWWW! (Stage: denial and isolation, of course.)
I saw this guy tied up outside a dollar store in the not-quite-the-best-part-of-Alameda area. I got within maybe ten feet of him, and he didn’t growl or move or anything, but I watched him for a while and I thought, hmm, maybe not the best one to approach. I don’t really know why… he didn’t have his ears back, he didn’t have his tail-stump tucked down. He was definitely looking right at me, but lots of dogs do that. But still, something told me not to get too close. So I snapped a few pictures and went inside.
A guy passed me on the way out, and I hear from outside, “Oh, wow, what a AH! NO! HEY! STOP!” I poked my head back out but the drama was all over, and I didn’t think the guy in question would appreciate me snapping pictures of him. Still, it serves as an object lesson to me… if you have a gut feeling that says you might not want to get near a dog, and it isn’t just because you’re biased against the breed (I adore Dobermans!) it might be a good idea to listen to it.
It looks like a dubious expression, but that may be hindsight talking.
I just thought I’d do a quick check to see how long it’s been since I posted a pug… ten months. This cannot stand! So meet Caleb, the 7-month-old pug puppy.
I do not have a single picture of Caleb where his tongue was inside his mouth.
I love how you can’t see his face, but you can still see his tongue.
It’s no wonder the tongue stayed out: Caleb was a friend-making machine, giving sloppy kisses wherever he went.
Anyway, Autumn and I were hiking last weekend and saw a little knot of people staring at something in a bush. As we got closer, we discovered that it was an Anna’s hummingbird, maybe five feet away from the closest person, just sitting there. I didn’t get quite that close, but with a 20x zoom lens (camera’s still working if I bang on it just right) who needs to?
(Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to go to McKinley DogFest, which was yesterday, because my brother was in town and I had to clean the apartment. As it was, I spent seven hours on it, and it’s still not done… although at this point the mess is confined to bedrooms, at least. Sorry, McKinley! Maybe next year.)
The feathers are so amazing. He turns his head three degrees to the left, and they’re totally different.
He was quite an aggressive little guy… chattering and bobbing at the first couple of people that got there. He thought better of it when he was surrounded by FIVE beasties that outweighed him by a factor of 20,000. Two wasn’t a problem though.
I’m inclined to cut him some slack. It must be exhausting, eating your weight in nectar every day.
Somebody got up on the wrong side of the cat bed!
So vicious.
The intent ‘hunter’ look. I have never been able to tell if these guys can see anything outside or not.
Obviously a very vocal kitty.