Friday, December 31, 2010

Happy New Year...

The Dog doesn't know it yet... he's schleeping off dinner... but, I have taken it upon myself to extend his Best Wishes to all you for a Healthy, Happy & Prosperous New Year...
and, I am sure, he will be more than ready to accept any gifts of bread in the new year! Gads.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Such a...

I often have to say to The Dog... when Moral Uplift & Verbal Reward are called for... 
that he is such a... splendore!!! This is Italian for "splendor" and it is pronounced as... splen-door-r-r-r-ay
Right now, The Dog has sniffed some schifezze... or, filthinesses, if that is a real word... provoking a series of night-time attacks of the trots. Out we would trot at 4:11AM & again at 6:42AM to allow The Dog to desperately grace some unsuspecting bush or grassy plot with his scariche... or, dumps, runny as they were. After the second trip, Moral Uplift had NOT DONE the trick. Shortly thereafter, a pill was forced down his Weimaraner gullet to solidify what needs to be solidified. The Dog, worn out from his nocturnal escapades, is schleeping... or sleeping. I could do with a nap myself. Gads.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Dog's Nature...

I feel, and this may be only me but, I think, The Dog might at least raise his head up to enjoy the surrounding Nature of our country place than always ramming his Weimaraner nose towards the ground.   
I want to tell The Dog... though it would be helpful if he were to stop what he is doing, look up at me and ABSORB My Kind Suggestion... that there ARE very interesting smells above the Grass Level. Gads.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Dog at work...

As you all well know, The Dog does NOT GO OUT in the rain. Here are a few live-action shots of The Dog during a much needed lull in the cold torrential rains of a week ago down at our country residence. This stone path is around our garden there. 
Now, for The Dog, the Order of Business is, first, Leg Lifting... 
followed by Looking at Me to check if I am still Present & Accounted for...
and, Sniffing... his Favourite Item on The List.
He never varies The Procedure, even under pressure from an imminent deluge. It came not five minutes later. Gads.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Incredible...

Is it NOT incredible that The Dog & I have re-incarnated in the very same Time-Space Continuum? To think, we both could still be churning around in some meta-physical goo had it NOT been for Good Ol' Mother Luck to bring us together. 

However... what Lesson am I to garner from a highly spoiled & vociferously obnoxious 55 lb. Weimaraner who bosses me about the house over a feast of a piece of bread? 
And... in turn, what is The Dog's Lesson to be learned from an overweight American ex-pat master who tends to over-do the white wine from time-to-time falling into a mushy, soppy even, sort of sentimentality, which expresses itself by sudden attacks upon The Dog of hugging, kissing & talking to him in a ridiculously infantile voice normally avoided by any adult with their head screwed on properly?  Gads.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Weimaraner Joy...

Dear K,

A sunny smile from a Weimaraner... discarding any discussion of just how spoiled an animal he is... is A Joy to Behold, no?

Love,
F

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Arthritic...

The Weimaraner Rule Book says... Wherever I am, so must be the Weimaraner. Bored with sunbathing & discovering... to his Utter & Complete Disgruntled-ness... that I was not within three feet of his Dog-hood-ness... that I have important Things-to-do never enters his mind... The Dog began the arduous trek up to where I was. This happens quite often. I was standing above attempting to take The Dog's portrait, so regal did he appear, as he gracefully partook of the arthritis soothing rays. Not to be, as you can see.
Yep. The Dog has arthritis. He lops-along as we go on our three to four w-a-l-k-s a day. We had a Vet Visit last week about it. I am now obliged to crush an acrid green-yellow pill, mix it in with his dog chow, to hope The Dog won't eat around the tiny pill-bits. He has a very able & talented tongue.
What's the pill? Well, it's shark's cartilage!!! How about that? Can you hear the Jaw's music? It's always... well, the drumming beat of the music...  is always in my head while I crush & serve.
The treatment slip from The Vet states 4 times a day. I asked The Short-person, who is un dottore, if I really needed to terrorize The Dog & myself with giving a pill so often. He said no.... Twice is fine. Wonderful!!!... I said.
The cure may need some time though. Apart from the fact The Dog is not skipping-a-doo-day which, I am not sure I could still keep up with. I too am a bit arthritic in my 57.91 years. I have noticed The Dog eats a lot of grass and you know what that means? Throw-up is right around the corner!!! This is mightily embarrassing too. Since just walking down the street excites the nearby public to rush over to ask me... May I stroke your Dog? Stroke? I beg your pardon... What kind of animal is it? He is not an animal, he is A Weimaraner!!! Ugh?... and so on & so forth... to have these folk clammer to tell me... Hey! Your dog is eating grass!!!... Why is he gagging?... and to ask how come is just entirely too much. Yet, it is all resolved to their Total Satisfaction when I blurt out... He has arthritis. The crowd responds with a collective... Ahhh... and immediately disperses. The Dog returns to his antipasta d'erbe and I am left in Pace. Gads. 

Friday, April 23, 2010

I ain't going out in that!

Here is a Live-action shot of The Dog... brakes smoking... in the entrance to our palazzo. He scents it is wet outside. He also detects that I intend to bodily drag him out into it. He was right. But, I lost the battle. He waited until I could come to my senses. 
I am amazed The Dog got this far. Normally, he stops DEAD in his tracks right out of the elevator. And, in cases of a downpour, he never leaves the elevator at all. Oh! Well, then, he never even gets off his upstairs bed, if his arthritic joints tells him there are torrential rains outside. 
You know, I try to communicate to The Dog about the day's weather. When it is Big raining outside, Moses, I take him out onto to our balcony, so he can have rain water soaking his Weimaraner schnozz. It has yet to work. I guess, he knows he ain't going out into the Big Rain from the balcony, so why be concerned? The Dog is smart enough to know we always leave by the building's front door. Thus, the photo. Gads.


One of Our Spots...

Here is a Live-NON-action shot of The Dog giving me The Look... I ain't moving from here. A brief note: what with the attached leash, he is not the one to decide, or is he? A characteristic of Weimaraners is they can be very insistent!!! Anyway, do you want to know why?

Because, he likes to watch the cars go by on via Buozzi. And, in a less than drizzle too. Gads.

Getting his paws wet...

Then, once The Dog is actually out under the wet... but, ONLY if it is less than a slight drizzle... he discovers he rather likes the sensations of water running down his Weimaraner back & ears, the freshness of the urban park smells, the beauty of the flowers, the noise of car's wheels on wet asphault and, he willingly keeps me out in it too. Gads.

Up & down...

This here is a super Live-action shot of The Dog hopping up & down for a piece of bread. He didn't even give me the chance to get my coat off, divest myself of bags & sacks, or anything. The Dog felt it was His Immediate Due, since I had abandoned him to go grocery shopping IN THE CAR without him, for a Treat!!! How an arthritic Dog can hop up & down so is... well, it's pretty cute of him... darn it. The b-r-e-a-d arrived post-haste for such a performance. Gads.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

The Dog...

Dear C...,
Has Spring come to Wisconsin? Here in Italy, The Weather is still mulling over the issue. 
To cheer you up, here are a few shots of My Adored Canine, The Dog. You know, I'd KILL for My Dog. That said... now we can get on with the pics...
Moses in the way-back of The Short-person's crummy beat up old AUDI. He's nestled against the door, Normally, he does so against the seat backs, however, he was thoroughly dis-oriented to see them in The DOWN Position. It took several minutes of his twisting around to figure out how best to plop down AND against what.
Here is Moses as My Construction Super-intendant. However, he cannot fathom how he was left up there & I got away down where I was. Apparently, His Job is to be wherever I am.
Here is a computer generated portrait of The Dog pulled off by a friend of ours. The frame was included in her feat of the gift. Is he NOT the Most Noble of God's Creatures?
Hope all is well.

Love... F...

The Dog...

Oh, Moses! Oh, Moses! Your Presence is A Major Contribution to Our World as we know it!!!
Gads.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Friday, April 2, 2010

Moses' new food...

The Dog has new food. It is in NO WAY what he cares for. But then, he is NOT the one, who is awakened at 2:37 in the morning by the incessant licking of an allergic reaction to The Old Stuff. Sleep-licking must be peculiar to Weimaraners, do you suppose? So annoying.
The New Dry Stuff is very stinky. It's salmon. The Vet says it is full of Good Stuff for The Dog. Ingredients to calm the itch. Big deal, says The Dog, it tastes yucky, and eats around it. 

The Canned Stuff is what The Dog likes... and God Bless too. He doesn't miss a morsel of deer in a can. However, The New Canned Stuff costs over five bucks a shot!!! That's the price of a McDonald'sKid's Meal, and with it, you get a prize. I better not say anything to The Dog. He'll want a Special Bone. Gads.


Confirmed...

Is NOT My Adored Dog destined for Posterity with this stunning portrait?
A Dog Park friend did it. The Dog nearly drove her to despair though, trying to get him to stay still long enough for a suitable photo. He kept turning to look up at me, as if asking for My Permission... since I was, oddly, NOT the one holding the camera... or, The Dog would move in between my legs to get away from the alien camera wielding person. Oh! And then, her XXXL canine wanted his picture taken too. 
It would have also been helpful for The Dog had the friend any competence with a micro-SONY digital camera. I just hit the button & let what may come happen with The Dog... or anything else, for that matter. This was NOT good enough for my friend. And, probably a fine thing to, admiring The Result. However, she poked & pranced around The Dog to get his Best Side. Then, when all was ready, she would fiddle with her camera, loosing the shot. 11 minutes later... and with me far, far away from The Dog, so as NOT to distract him from his imminent Posterity... A Perfect Shot was got!
Once the impromptu photo shoot was complete, my friend dashed home, got on her computer, downloaded The Perfect Photo, had it immediately printed out on heavy art-paper, stuck it in a fancy frame and called me to come get it.
Now, I must find a suitable place to demonstrate what a fine looking canine My Dog is.  I thought upstairs in my bathroom so, while sitting, I can admire him... without interruptions. Gads. 

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Love...

I know... it's been a while... nevertheless...
Love for My Dog cannot be contained.
I thought it best to state this reminder. Gads.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

An indecisive Weimaraner in the country...

Ah, yes. The diversion of life in the country. Fresh air, clear skies, birds chirping, and those sort of things. And too, there's work to be done... planting fruit trees & shrubs & floweres to take advantage of the spring-like weather. But, no such luck with The Dog in attendance...
This is The Dog, who BAR-RUFFED to be let inside, when it got too cold outside. The wind had kicked up & clouds had appeared. Some disgruntled dog-stuff about not having the pleasure of sun-bathing on a sun-warmed semi-grassy spot, while I built up a sweat digging into rocky soil.
This is also The Dog, who BAR-RUFFED to be let back outside, when he discovered I did not remain inside with him, where it was w-a-r-m. Some sort of dog-trash about The Hallowed Man/Dog Solidarity, I suppose.
And, this is The Dog, who found it necessary to BAR-RUFF again to have my company for a foray beyond the perimeter walls of the garden, probably, fearing an unpleasant encounter with that nasty black dog, who insists on wee-wee-ing where The Dog has just wee-wee-ed. Apparently, The Dog is very protective of his s-p-o-t-s.
How could I get my gardening in with these sorts of canine interruptions?
So, the next day, I left The Dog in town, so the maid could deal with his inconsistencies. Gads.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Action for b-r-e-a-d...

I believe these action shots speak for themselves in describing The Dog's insatiable appetite for b-r-e-a-d and how obnoxious he can be about it too. It's his Bread Dance. Nothing like that 7 Veil thing. And barking, as opposed to serenading, is involved too. Gads.

Freezing cold...

The Civil Defense Folk here declared a Snow Emergency for Tuesday night & all day Wednesday. The alarm was sounded on TV, radio & huge electronic sign boards over major thorough-fares. Suddenly, the city was covered with salt. Sand trucks went to & fro leaving huge piles of their gritty stuff. And, Police cars scurried around patrolling that all was to the ready. 
The weather did not co-operate. It dumped its fluffy white stuff before reaching Genoa and in the chilly hills behind us. All we got was The Wind & The Cold. 
Naturally, The Dog loved it. Bracing himself against the stiff gales, nose pointed at 15 degrees above the horizon, his cold weather wrap gracing his Weimaraner haunches, lo' did he sniff to his satisfaction the fierce winter winds. The Dog could have cared less for My State, reduced to a bone chilling numbness though wrapped in my all-bad-weather parka. 
However, I was not the one to suffer the consequences of standing in the cold by having an attack of diarrhea. Nevertheless, I had to pay for it when the Dog did. Gads.   

Monday, February 22, 2010

Hero Worship...

No, The Dog is NOT awaiting My Further Instructions. 
Yes, he is Waiting AND Hoping I WILL lead him to his next piece of bread. Gads.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Tools for looking good...

People often come up to me & say...

Your dog's coat is so like velvet!!! So smooth... so silky... so shiny... 

and so on and so forth. They would be interested to learn that there is has a handy... literally... device for bring out that BRECK Look in My Weimaraner. Here is The Dog's Grooming Tool...
The Dog loves it. He adores the feeling of being massaged by The Grooming Tool's array of flexible rubber nibs stroking his back, his hind-quarters, his neck & stomach too. When The Dog scents his Grooming Tool is in my jacket's pocket and the temptation becomes overwhelming, he will stop dead in his tracks... on any stretch of scuzzy urban sidewalk... stick his nose into my pocket, arch his back to say... I'm ready when you are... and await Grooming NIRVANA!!! 
It was not always so. We tried... The Dog & I... various alternative Grooming Tools but, they all seemed more adapted for a Saint Bernard's big hair or, as torture equipment for the CIA than for a Weimaraner's minimalist coat. The Dog's Grooming Tool is a God-send for Good Looks. And, it shows. My Dog is a handsome fellow, don't you think. Gads.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Counter-tactics...

The Dog and I have had an altercation this morning. Naturally, b-r-e-a-d was The Issue. We are now both maintaining our Respective Post-argument Positions. One has taken to spying on me from his perch high above, while I try to ignore him down below. 
have often thought to succumb to the temptation of testing The Dog's endurance as to how long the animal can stare me down.  But, I have not done so. However, one more capricious BAR-RUFF and I might just try it! Gads.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Bar-ruffing...

I do not take kindly to being barked at by a spoiled & rotten Weimaraner after 9PM. I haven't had time to digest my meal yet. So, I had to communicate the following statement reiterating The Steadfast Rules of the Master/Dog Relationship...
Moses! Please kindly note that all Bar-ruffing must occur between the hours of 9 in the morning to 7 in the evening. It is now 10:30 PM. Thank you for your kind & considerate attention. I know it was a struggle for you to stay patient long enough to hear me out! Ora vai al tuo posto, per favore.
Apparently, The Dog was all bent out of shape over having received ONLY 2 pieces of b-r-e-a-d for a T-r-e-a-t after our last w-a-l-k of the day. I can't imagine who gave him the idea that he was entitled to 3 pieces rather than just 2. Had I miscounted, do you think? Gads.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

The Canine Bad Weather Report...

When there is bad weather outside... when we are assaulted by Snow & Sleet & Rain & Blowing Siberian Winds... and, when it looks better to stay indoors all Warm & Cozy, I turn to The Dog at The Anointed Hour for a routine Pee & Poop Run and I convey to him the following Bad Weather WARNING...
It's so very inclement outside, Moses!
The Dog gives me a low-registered HAR-RUMPH as His Response and goes back to sleep. Gads.

The Canine Health Report...

Lovely isn't it? It's a rash. The Dog has a rash. A rash on both of his Inner Thais... for cryin' out loud! The Dog licks them ONLY at night and ONLY after 2 in the morning. I don't know why. Perhaps, he is just bored at that hour and thinks... Gosh, I haven't licked My Inner Thais at all today! It sounds terrible... GHLOWLUUCK! GHLOWLUUCK!! GHLOWLUUCK!!!... and so on and so forth. Who needs to hear this verbal muck from a Weimaranere in The Wee Hours of the Night? I am awakened & am immediately impelled to silence the GHLOWLUUCK! Business with a resounding... BASTA!!! Moses. He stops. Maybe he does the licking in his sleep. I wouldn't be at all surprised.  
The Vet & I believe that The Dog is either allergic to being indoors too much. An environment of wool Oriental rugs that might irritate The Dog's delicate Weimaraner skin. And, I might add, The Weather has not been much help since November on getting out more. It's always raining, etc.... or, to his Mineral & Vitamin Enriched Dog Chow. We can't do anything about the Weather... well, except shoot the uniformed military weatherman with his erroneous forecasts on Italian TV... but, we have been experimenting with The Dog's food. Several companies have skin sensitive Dog Chow... dried or canned. The Dog HATES this stuff. And, he still has the tell-tale signs of irritation on his Inner Thais. We will continue Our Search. The Dog is ardently hoping we'll just give him unlimited bread! 
In the meantime, The Dog also has arthritis. Poor thing. It's those steep Travertine stairs he has to go up & down from one bed to the other. Too much stress on his shoulders. I am now administering a massive white pill... as per Our Vet... of shark's cartilage. Yes, shark's cartilage! I am heartened to know that those evil aquatic beasts... known to have eaten wind-surfers of late in certain beach locals in Florida & Australia... can restore Their Global Standing by aiding in My Adored Canine's arthritis. Gads.
.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Togetherness...

Wherever I am, so too is The Dog...
if I am downstairs working on my blogs & stuff at my 17th Century Piedmontese desk, The Dog comes & sunbathes in the window behind my 17th Century walnut throne...
if I am upstairs doing laundry, The Dog is there with me in a Supervising Capacity...
if I am out on the balcony watering our miserably cold plants, The Dog is right by my side watching that every drop hits a plant...
if, I am taking a nap on my bed, so too is The Dog on his bed next to mine...
he even participates in the Panel Discussions with the builder + crew on the house we are renovating!
So, there ain't a moment that I ain't got A Dog. And, probably, this is how it ought to be. Gads.

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Understanding & Anticipation...

I know ALL your tactics, Moses... even some you haven't invented yet. I am ready for ya'!
Gads.

A rough night...

Addictions can be sooooo wearing on those near & dear to The Addict...
The Dog kept waking me up last night doing his I Want Bread! Dance. It's an interpretive number, expressing The Desperate Desire... or Hardened Need... on the part of The Dog... for the tasty crunch of a piece of whole wheat bread. The choreography entails considerable licking, jumping up & down and Weimaraner nose pointing in conjunction with running back & forth towards the Kitchen. He did so three times... at 2:10, 3:36 & 5:10. And, every time... at 2:11, 3:37 & 5:19. The last time I got up to pee before imposing Discipline... I had to dispatch The Dog al suo posto... conveniently located next to my bed... dammit! Naturally, The Dog is very put-out with me this morning. He gives me a low Weimaraner HAR-RUMPH when I speak to him. I think what would be in order is a brisk w-a-l-k in our below-Freezing temps, thanks to a recurring Siberian wind we are so lucky to have. Maybe the icy air will clear The Dog's nostrils of a scent for b-r-e-a-d. Gads.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

I Just Hugged My Dog and...

I just hugged The Dog...

and he smelled exactly like Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup!!!... right off the stove too. I loved Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup. A fond memory of My Childhood back when I went home for lunch.
A while back, The Dog used to smell like My Mother's tuna-fish salad sandwiches!!!... made with sweet relish, onion, celery & world's of mayonnaise and served on RAINBOW white bread... Thank You very much... with potato chips & a glass of milk. Too bad The Dog doesn't smell like the complete shebang.
And before that, The Dog's scent was a knock-on for FRITO'S Corn Chips!!!
Remarkable, isn't it? All my favorite food groups!!! Must have something to do with The Dog growing older, do you suppose?
However, The Dog still has the worse breath ever. It smells like... Gads.

Monday, January 25, 2010

The Vets...

Today, I took The Dog for his rabies shot. The Dog HATES shots. He REALLY HATES The Vet. I would too, if someone talked to me like I was a woodland creature suddenly propelled out of my forest home and on to a kind of afternoon kiddies program featuring a guy in a lab coat wearing a pair of Crocs waving a hypo-dermic needle in his hand.
Because of this non-sympathetic relationship betwixt Dog & Vet, I have to dupe The Dog with... Hey, Moses! Let's go for a ride in the car! Waddyasay? The Dog, hearing the key words... ride in the car... immediately foresakes the woolen warmth of his upstairs bed to trot-down with me to the garage for that ride in the car! Waddyasay? 
The ruse doesn't last long. No sooner have I steered the car towards an uphill street driving past the Carabinieri station than The Dog starts to whimper & whine. He's on to me. It gets worse at the right turn into the parking lot... crowded with about 100 too many motor-scooters. It becomes simply unbearable when I park the car!!!... in a space designed for a motor-scooter. The ones for cars are filled with those 100 extra scooters. That's Italy.
I try to be cheerful & positive. The Dog, instead, wants to flee which, he does as soon as the back hatch of the car is opened. He refuses to answer to his name, nor does he even bother to look back. He just goes as fast and as furiously as his arthritic Weimaraner legs can take him... far away from where he is... in an over-crowded parking lot in the suburbs of Genoa.
Once caught & reprimanded... in English. I'd do it in German, The Dog's natural tongue but, all I know is Ich bin ein Berliner... we enter the Waiting Room for Our Vet to appear. In the meantime, The Dog kick-starts again that awful whimper & whining & fleeing. Have you ever heard Weimaraner nails try to gain traction on a marble flooring? You don't. Thank God, the door is tightly shut.
Our Vet appears!!! Fond greetings are extended & received all around & off we go to the Examining Room. Well, the Dott. & I head towards it, The Dog scratches with all fours for the Utility Room... in the opposite direction. I think The Dog expresses little discretion for his choices to flee to.
Anyway, once caught & dragged... in Italian... to the Examining Room, securing the door behind me, the escapade of getting The Dog up on the Examining Table for his shot begins. It's not a very interesting story. The Dog tries to get down and The Vet & I try to stop him. Have you ever held a Weimaraner intent on being anywhere but on a table at the Vet's? Even the bone chilling temperatures & snow of Iowa would be good to The Dog at this point. So, I have to employ Dupe Numero 2... Behave, Dog, and I'll give you an extra ration of bread. Give him the shot Doc!!!
Shot done. The visit paid for. We're back at home in 20 minutes. And, You-know-who goes to the Kitchen to await his Mighty Reward... in the Weimaraner seated position. Gads.  




Saturday, January 23, 2010

Bread Crumbs left by You-know-who...

Tell-tale crumbs... you know, it would be ever so helpful, if Weimaraners... and a certain one in particular... were self-vacuuming. I mean, if The Dog is going to obsess about a particular food item... making My Life miserable harping me about it at every turn... and insisting upon slobbering-ly consuming said item on The Short-person's Mother's fancy French rug... once a piece has been generously conferred... then, the least he could do is clean up after himself. Don't you think this is a Reasonable Request? Gads.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Every Now & Then...

I have to refresh The Dog's Weimaraner Memory by telling him that I think he is...

A Superior Animal, in every way, on many levels, so forth & so on... but, to please, Cease & Desist with this silly obsession of his for b-r-e-a-d. I HATE to be stared at and by My Own Weimaraner. Espeically, when I am eating a cheese & ham sandwich at my desk. I have My Territories, he has his. They should remain separate. Gads.

Yep...

Incredible... this accumulation of taupe dog-hair, bad dog-breath & yawning morning boredom is an intuitive genius. Well, that may be exaggerating a bit but... I just want to tell you how strong Our Man/Dog Symbiosis is...

The Short-person & I had 8 for dinner the other Saturday night. I embarrassingly had to shoot out of the house... mind you, without The Dog!!! How could I take an animal that has to sniff & pee every three feet? I was in a beeg hurry too!!!... to run across the street to the Bangladeshi convenience store for some milk. I had forgotten to buy it at the super-beeg new BASKO grocery store. It's right after the scuzzy park at the subway stop down the street from us. Whew! And, the coffee was being served back at home.
The Dog was slumbering on Bed Number 2... the Upstairs One... whilst I dashed out the front door. The Dog noted my departure by raising his head to see in which direction I had fled. Too stressed by the commotion of our dinner party, he resumed his Nap Number 58-C. However, by the time I had come back from my quick outing, there was Mr. Moses.... tail wagging at 150 beats a minute... in our Entry Hall. He was waiting for me!!! Our guests told me afterwards... when I managed to sit down & join the dinner party... that The Dog suddenly got off his bed & came downstairs & headed to the front door. A couple of minutes later, in I waltzed. Yep. The Dog intuited My Arrival. Is that not...? Is not...? Is that not damn special? Gads.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

A Sunny Morning with The Dog...

Finally, it's a sunny morning in Genoa, Italy. Seems right to head on out and go for a w-a-l-k with The D-o-g.


Man & his D-o-g, symbiotically united by a green nylon l-e-a-s-h.


Another scuzzy park at a subway stop. The D-o-g adores this place. It's imbued with delicious odors/flavors/others. Mostly, dumped take-a-way from the Chinese restaurant at the corner. The D-o-g loves to try to lap-up rice with veggies. Obviously, when there isn't any bread bits lying around. Gads.


Monday, January 18, 2010

A W-A-L-K with The Dog...

Here are some live-action shots of The Dog on a typical w-a-l-k. I have abbreviated the various & interesting steps along our way to the scuzzy park at the subway stop...

Peeing...


Sniffing...


Peeing again...


Sniffing some more...


Done. Which way for bread? Gads.