If yesterday's Finny Foto showed her as a creature of the forest, noble thing of beastly beauty, this one reveals that she is truly a doyenne of dorkdom. She's multi-faceted, my dog, and it is my mission in life to capture her many moods. Johnny Hygiene is always complaining about how 90 percent of the photos in my iPhotos archive are pictures of the dog. (Or berries... I have a big berry fetish. I can't help it. I've never met a berry that wasn't entirely photo worthy).
And it's true. We have piles and piles and piles of Finny fotos. (More cyber piles than actual physical piles since I almost never print my photos, something I will one day rectify). But honestly? They only show like four of her moods, the main two being "Are you gonna throw that stick? Throw that stick, throw that stick! throw it now, now, now" and "Get that thing out of my face, wouldja, puh-lease." So many moods yet to capture. For instance, we do not have even one great foto of her toting about her blanket, which she does constantly. Or a single one with her with our shoes. And Finny J. is all about the shoes. And we don't really have any good ones of either of us with her either. And that's just sad.
But this one? I love this one. Here she is, having just rolled in the dew, stick bits still stuck to her tongue, looking all dopey and blissed out, modelling the faux hawk a vigorous roll in the dew always produces. Awwww. Doesn't it just make you wanna chomp her leather button nose in an enormous SQUEE of delight and adoration? no? Uh... okay, maybe it's just me.
The photos above.. well how cool is that? I call it "dotted oak". These are the leaves of a particular oak tree in the park that I'm enormously besotted with, despite the fact it's not much of an acorn producer and I normally rate my oaks on their acorn manufacturing skills. The thing that makes this particular oak tree so damn fabulous is that year after year, it is attacked by something that produces these amazingly uniform holes. Like a mad scrapbooker got real happy on it with a hole punch. It's just the coolest thing, I think. And then there's the fact that this oak tree? Hangs onto those leaves all winter long with a grip like grim death. And rattles them menacingly, raging at any one and anything who dares approach it with the intention of stealing its leaves. It's a very distinctive rattle, like the sinister dry whisper of dead things and regret.
I've named the spot where it resides "Rattler Flats" after it. The Handsome Guy and I do that... name particular landmarks in the park (which I just learned is exactly the same size as NYC's Central Park) so that when we recount our individual wolf walks to each other, we understand exactly where a particularly monumentous event occurred. Some events which rank as particularly momentous events: Spotting a cardinal, an encounter with Brown Dog, finding the rotting remains of a coyote kill, a decapitated bunny, a particularly big wasp's nest, cool fungus formations, new fallen tree, or a specific nest of nasty Finny-grabbing burs.