I have this picture that I keep meaning to share but I’ve been holding off waiting for just the right caption to come to me.
It’s not coming.
Help me out.
How would you caption this picture of the poor sad puppy who appears to be locked out of the house by the grumpy cat?
The new puppy is Trip’s nephew (for real, Goose is his half-brother Turk’s pup) and Trip has taken to his Uncle-y duties well – not a single growl or grumble.
This is probably because he has, so far, refused to acknowledge that the puppy exists. Well, other than this look he keeps giving me:
Judging from past puppy experiences, I suspect that when Goose gets a bit older Trip will be willing to play, but until then, Trip has gotten to go on a bit more car rides and gotten to be on the flip side of the naughty dog coin.
Today while Trip was sitting by my side with his head in my lap and we watched (well, I watched, Trip looked the other way) Goose attack a knothole in a post in the living room. I looked at Trip and said, “Someday he’ll be a good dog too… Someday…”
The new puppy has arrived!
And his name is Goose.
Despite many people’s dubious reaction to his name, I’m keeping it.
Partly because within the first two hours the kids had already called him Goose 7 gazillion times (revisit the saga of Sarah Cat and wonder why I didn’t learn my lesson) and partly because I like it (and Mom still gets ultimate naming power because I did learn something from the Sarah Cat saga).
Besides, his dad’s name is Turkey so it makes perfect sense.
But now what I need is an official registered name for Goose. On paper he’s the offspring of Mr. Impressive and Fearless (none of this Turkey and Trixie business on the official documents) but so far my inspiration has only taken me as far as Super Goose.
And so, brilliant people of the internet, give me your best idea for a registered name for Goose!
It’s said that a pictures is worth a thousand words and it may be true, but sometimes they need a few more.
A little girl meanders down a sandy road, with her dog trotting behind on a summer’s day.
But there was more to it than that.
For starters, that dog isn’t trotting along behind (he doesn’t ever do that), he is briefly checking in with his family before diving back into the foliage to see where his nose will lead him. That foliage is swarming with mosquitoes and biting flies (Can you see the little girl slapping her arm?) and riddled with poison ivy even if it does look inviting and green from a distance. You can’t tell from the picture that that little girl is the princess of the family in every way and that everyone was surprised when she was the first to put her shoes on and run for the door when a hike in the woods was suggested. Nor can you tell that she’s out in front of her mom, grandpa and sister quick stepping along because she’s hoping to see the “interestin’ stuff” first and you can’t tell that she lingers at the interesting finds the longest. You also can’t tell that the accompanying sister is not the sister who was expected but the oldest, who was too interested not to come and too pretend-grumpy to admit it and so complained about the swarms of bugs and the lack of fun at every opportunity. You can’t see that her sister didn’t have too much time to complain because her grandpa was busy showing them tracks: deer tracks, bear tracks, turkey tracks, woodcock tracks, snapping turtle tracks and wolf tracks. You can’t see her mom trying to identify flowers with the little girls’ grandpa, while checking out the growing hazelnuts and chewing on wintergreen. And you can’t see her mom melting in the sweatshirt that she’s wearing on such a hot day just to hide from the bugs as she gives the little girl a piggyback ride up the hills on the way home while snapping pictures of butterflies, flowers… and of a little girl with her dog.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but sometimes it still needs an additional three hundred and sixteen.
Turkey Vulture if you want to be specific.
I always know when they are flying over the house because my bird dog came with a Vulture Alert System.
Perhaps it’s the frustration of having big bird that he can’t point leisurely sail by, perhaps he suspects that there is something smelly and dead nearby that he doesn’t get to roll in, or maybe he just hates vultures. Whatever the reason, he goes tearing across the lawn barking at them.
I guess it works, they’ve never tried to infiltrate his yard and it is a very handy habit if you need a “V” picture…
Photo blogging my way through the alphabet with:
A Friday ritual.
A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
Specifically, my man and his dog.