Uh… it’s okay, Trooper. Everything is going to be all right.
And speaking of things being all right: we found the owners of yesterday’s dog, and returned him safe and sound this morning. Happy ending!
I am not sure where Trooper acquired the expression, but I’m not sure ‘Tripper’ wouldn’t be a more appropriate name.
A very intense fellow.
A surprising (or possibly not) number of my pictures of Trooper looked like this. Several more were blurs.
(First things first: If anyone knows who this dog belongs to, please email me at alang @ this blog (dogsofsf.com) and help me get in contact with the owner!)
I didn’t exactly expect to be spending my evening this way, but if you run a dog blog and/or a dog-walking and pet-sitting business, you have to be prepared to handle doggie distress calls at any time. Autumn and I were wandering around on Russian Hill (in a quest for ice cream) and found a woman with a dog on a leash… not exactly a rarity in Russian Hill. But we quickly discovered that it wasn’t her dog, that she’d just found him wandering around (on Larkin near Green) and that she didn’t know what to do. So we took over.
We brought the dog in to see if he was microchipped. The good news: he was, indeed, microchipped. The bad news: the microchip wasn’t registered, so they don’t know whose dog it was. Tomorrow they’re going to see if they can track down what vet implanted it, and maybe the vet will have records. We’ve also reported him to Animal Care and Control, and will probably put up a few signs tomorrow as well. And we’re keeping an eye on Craig’s List.
He’s a real sweetheart, although he seems to be compelled to pee on ALL THE THINGS.
Autumn walked him around a bit to see if he’d find his own way home. He found a building he liked and snuck in on someone else’s heels. (BTW: those toenails? Autumn’s. Colored like the Irish flag.)
He immediately ran up to a door. And when Autumn knocked on it and someone answered, he ran right inside.
And of course the people had never seen him before, and it was a ‘no pets’ building.
No, that’s not a misprint: Kate is a 12-year-old Australian kelpie that came from Australia. How come so many adorable breeds are from Australia, anyway?
She’s pretty good-sized for a girl kelpie.
He just wants petting. Why are you running away?
He was rolling around. It was intimidatingly adorable.
Just a big kitten.
They do go from ‘cuddly’ to ‘intimidating’ right quick, don’t they?
Fluffy German shepherd for your viewing enjoyment.
Sam’s a lovely, gentle, 8-year-old sweetheart.
My pictures of him didn’t come out all that great, but they really did tell me a story, so I figured I’d use them anyway.
That expression, for example, really speaks to me.
Plus, well, Sam’s too awesome not to post.
That’s what mom says, and I won’t argue… she has that look to her. Although she could also be a golden mix, maybe.
She rarely too her eyes off her mom. And such an adoring gaze.
She was quite well-behaved for a one-year-old.
*singing* “Vizsla vizsla vizsl’amour, vizsla vizsla vizsl’amour, vizsla vizsla vizsl’amour, vizsla companie!” Well, it sort of works, if you pronounce ‘vizsla’ with three syllables. 🙂
She’s at that awkward, gangly stage.
She makes an excellent photographic subject, as long as you have enough light to use a high shutter speed. Always moving!
Shakeshakeshake.
She really is amazingly photogenic.
Such dynamic poses.
Er, did I say ‘poses’? I meant ‘noses’. (Also: compare and contrast.
Apologies to all you Blondie fans out there.
Autumn and I ran into Buster a few weeks ago. He was four months old and utterly entrancing. And it turns out that we’re not the only entranced ones: it seems that he has an Instagram page of his very own.
Just a little bit of side-eye, there.
I think he thought he was in trouble.
I love his changes of expression here.
Almost-no-nose shot!
Curlytongue!
And the award for ‘best name for a female Great Dane’ goes to… (Not to mention the award for most ridiculous floppy ears that keep trying to stand up.)
Four months old. She’s four months old, and that big. Ye gods.
A welcome addition to SF. We don’t have nearly enough Danes.
Those ears…
That expression.
Yay! I have at least one more nose shot for you guys, too.
A little treat for a sweet Danish girl.
So Autumn and I went over to the Oakland Zoo last weekend, just for fun. And, with all the other little kids (at heart or otherwise) we visited the petting zoo. There were a number of animals, but it seemed surprisingly sparse… and then an entire flock of goats appeared on the hillside above, and outside the fence of, the enclosure. And grinned down at us.
Look at that face. That is a smile if I have ever seen one.
Look at that magnificent beard.
And I thought, ‘Well, that’s funny. I guess they escaped, and now they can’t get back in. But the staff doesn’t seem at all bothered.’ And indeed, they were stuck on the outside of that wire fence, which was at the top of a sheer wall.
And then they proceeded to push through the fence at a point where it was a little stressed, and just climb down the nearly vertical wall, at one of its least steep spots (which was still only about 15 degrees from the vertical). The frustrating part (for Autumn, and me, and about 30 9-year-old girls) was that they climbed down on the other side of a 15-foot-tall cyclone fence, so we couldn’t pet them. And it’s not like goats can climb cyclone fences. Right?
This little goat stood up there a good long time, gazing down at us. Gloating.
It got up there and then stood there for a while, and I thought, ‘Hmm, the wall is much more vertical on this side. Is he going to need a hand getting down from there?’
Apparently not.
I couldn’t climb this. I couldn’t climb this with a hammer and pitons and two hours.
The attendants were not fazed in the slightest by this, treating it as perfectly normal. So: apparently they built a petting-zoo enclosure for some sheep and goats, at the Oakland Zoo. And the goats decided that they quite liked it, but they also liked wandering around. So now they go wandering around any time they want, and then come back to get petted.
That’s just plain awesome.