When the momma is away, the boys will play. Oliver seemed puckered about the impending move. He needed stress relief, I had a few frames to burn, so we filled the tub and jumped in.
More Frenchie after the break… Continue reading
When the momma is away, the boys will play. Oliver seemed puckered about the impending move. He needed stress relief, I had a few frames to burn, so we filled the tub and jumped in.
More Frenchie after the break… Continue reading
New rule. It is OK to do a late holiday post, as long as said post goes up on another holiday. The logic is sound, and I’m sticking to it. Today we flashback two months to our nation’s independence, and what has now become the traditional pooch-pool-party.
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For a special someone’s birthday, we planned a special little surprise. Though she probably saw it coming (the six hours of airplane mode kind of gave it away), she was blindsided by our Santa Barbara getaway. I on the other hand came prepared with the Pentax 67 ready to capture the weekend with a little color, a little black and white, and a whole heap of California light (see what I did there?)
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I’ve wasted (depending on your definition) countless rolls shooting the vermin. I’ll come out of the office, and he’ll be basking in the perfect ray of sun. Step out of the shower, and he’s sprawled on his blanket. How can I resist grabbing a camera and firing off some shots? The kid is king of the castle. The way I see it, someone has to record of his dominion.
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My tribe has left me for the West Coast. This cold apartment has gotten a colder. But I take solace in the fact that my pooch is on the job, working long hours to insure the sanity and safety of his Momma. Exemplifying the required qualities of an Emotional Support Animal, he’s a dog born to wear the black and blue.
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Now that Oliver is a part of the family, naturally he’s also part of the family trips. So for Fourth of July, we slapped on the service vest and hauled him along for a journey out west. Little did the the little guy know what type activities were in store, if he did he would have asked to come sooner
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After a surprise visit to the vet this week, we returned home with the knowledge that young Oliver had contracted a rather unpleasant “anaerobic flagellated protozoan parasite.” I’ll spare everyone the boring details, but as I’ve been saying all along, this dog is full of shit. In spite of the off-putting name it’s apparently a pretty easy fix, with part of the recovery demanding daily bathings. While this might be a problem for more cautious canines, Oliver has always LOVED the water, so this week’s Frenchie fix focuses on the little man’s soft spot for soaking.
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Oliver has been going to daycare lately, and he comes back a different dog. The poor kid is wiped, and I mean sleep-of-the-dead wiped. So to commemorate this brief respite from repetitive rough-housing, enjoy a sleepy Frenchie Friday.
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Lock lips, swap spit, box tonsils, suck face. Whatever you call it, Oliver does it, so come check out the many samples of smooch the lil guy doles out.
More Frenchie after the break… Continue reading