Another puppy! Y’all are gonna be spoiled, I swear.
Yes, that deflated green thing in his mouth is a ball. Well, ex-ball.
If you think those eyes are dark now, you should have seen them before fifteen minutes of Photoshop Elements.
Goofy expression.
Aww. Sad face. And yes, he did steal that ball from another dog. Like four times. (The other dog was very easygoing.)
Kind of *cough* forgot about this. So here’s my last ‘stuff about me’ post, offered with rather less words, and also less content! Hooray!
I Love Pomegranates
No, seriously. If you give me a pomegranate when I don’t have any in my backpack, and have not eaten one in a few days, I will be your friend for life. I can’t help it. Pomegrantes just make me happy.
I Am an Awful Swimmer
I hate putting my head in the water, because I hate getting water up my nose. Hate hate hate. It hurts, no matter what kind of water it is, and comes perilously close to making me freak out under the best of circumstances.
This means that all of my swimming is an ungainly flopping about, keeping my head above water while trying to propel myself. The only strokes that I can do properly are the ones that keep my head out of water, and most of them are hideously inefficient.
I hate that this will prevent me from ever going scuba diving, but, well, that’s life, I guess.
Was walking down the street near my apartment when I spotted this pup gazing soulfully out of his second story window at me. Every once in a while he gave this little dispirited-sounding bark.
Is that safe? Leaving your dog in a second-floor apartment with a window open? I guess most dogs aren’t dumb enough to leap out a window like that.
He looks so sad... it's almost like nobody has paid any attention to him in almost five minutes!
To make up for the late post, here is an 8-week-old puppy that deserves all of the superlatives that I can muster. SO CUTE!
(I know the site’s been having some odd issues today. Not sure what to make of it… some places seem to have no problem, but both from home and from work it seems to take forever for me to connect. Anyone else having issues?)
The kind of face that makes you want to pick her up and hug her and tell her everything's going to be okay.
Splash of white on the chest. Not sure how you'd get that with a Lab/golden, but genes are funny things.
Look at that face. Just look at it. Is that face not totally ridiculous?
Slight head tilt = even cuter. If such a thing is possible.
How can she be an immovable object and an irresistible force at the same time? PUPPY POWER!
Lizzy’s mom said she was a Sheltie mix. If that’s so, then I’m going to guess that the other half is golden retriever. She does bear a distinct resemblance to the Finnish Spitz, but the muzzle shape and coloration is a bit different.
Big yawn!
The face definitely has a certain amount of collie to it.
And a pretty smile. She looks like she's pointing at something with her ear. Maybe she is: her mom is standing over in that direction.
Black spotty tongue! Apparently golden retrievers can have those without any chow ancestry, but chows have it more often. Could well be chow in this pup.
Charlie, the bichon frise/Cavalier King Charles spaniel mix, has grown up! And has mastered the puppydog eyes, as one can see in the second picture. Photos are from a company picnic.
She got tethered to the chair, but I think she got herself short-leashed until she could hardly move all by herself. She even jumped over the crossbar.
Mom stood up, and immediately got the double-barrel puppydog eyes.
Cone of shame! Well, this guy got used to it pretty quickly, so he wasn’t bothered. And, in fact, he was getting it off (if all went well) a couple days after these pictures were taken, so with any luck he’s no longer coned.
Autumn and I are off this afternoon to the annual Swiss Dog Day at Fort Mason! See some of you there, maybe. I’ll be the one wearing the Dogs of San Francisco T-Shirt, if I can find the darn thing.
Buddy is generally well-disposed, even when he's wearing that thing.
You can sort of see his injury here: some stitches near the eye. He was lucky, no eye damage, and it's all healing cleanly.
According to genetic typing, Melvin is 75% Bernese mountain dog and 25% Great Pyrenees… (edit: nope, see below) bearing in mind that those tests often have a very tenuous connection to reality. According to me, Melvin is 35% goofball 110% great foofly snorghound. He looks just like a Berner except he’s only bi-color instead of tri-color, everywhere he should have black instead being red. I will say that I can’t identify anything that looks particularly Great Pyrenees-like in Melvin.
Edit: After extensive research, our merry band of giant-dog-ologists has determined that Melvin is most likely a purebred Bernese Mountain Dog, whose parents were both carriers of the (very unusual in Berners) ‘recessive red‘ gene. (The top part of the linked page talks about masks… scroll down to the bottom to see the discussion of ‘recessive red’). If so, this must be a vanishingly rare condition, since google does not appear to know of any other purebred Berners that look like Melvin. Pretty neat!
Anyone who says gingers have no soul, I challenge you to look into this dog’s eyes and say that.
I guess his face looks a teensy bit different than a full-blooded Berner, too. (C’mon closer so we can have a good look!)
Hmm, I dunno, he looks like a Berner to me! What a sweet face.
I was shocked because Melvin wasn’t shedding AT ALL. Until his mom said it was because he’d gone romping through the wilds the day before, and then she’d spent three hours trying to brush all the clingy vegetable matter (burrs, foxtails, etc) out of his fur.
Another dog from just around the corner. (From my apartment, that is.) Prezzly was originally named ‘Presley’. The adoptive owner was not happy with this name, but the dog was old enough that they felt like changing his name would be cruel. So Prezzly it is!
My first guess was 'Rottweiler/Lab' but they both have down ears, and this guy has an awesome case of airplane ears.
Yes, there is something interesting in that direction. And it's mom.
Yes, he’s the size of a pony, but he’s still a puppy: 8 months old. Gotta say: least drooly mastiff I’ve ever run into. I’m pretty sure I’ve met Hank before, at night when no photography was possible. Which is a real shame, because when I met him he was like 8 weeks old and about eightteen inches long, with paws as big as his head.
This is less than a block from our apartment, so hopefully we get to see more of Hank.
The penultimate in pendulous flews!
I wanna try wrestling with this guy. I wouldn't mind losing.
He still has huge-mongous feet. Also the rest of him.