People are crazy about their pets and I was certainly guilty of being crazy about our Springer Spaniel, Polly. She seemed to love life and everyone she met. Polly is long-gone now but I come across photos of her every once and a while – I had forgotten I had this one.
One of the best discoveries of all of our travels to Europe is a small village in Portugal north of Lisbon with stone houses that have been converted to small apartments for tourists. The name of the little town is Aldeia da Mata Pequena and we stayed in the apartment named “Caso do Jasmin.” Among the ammenities were antique decorations, a kitchen sink carved out of stone and warm bread served each morning by the owner.
Another amenity was the town dog, whom we nicknamed “Sparky” because we couldn’t say her real name. She would come to visit when we were out on our little back patio. She wouldn’t respond to our English but did accept our small gifts of bread and cheese. When she barked, I’m guessing she spoke Portuguese.
Books bags certainly carry more than books. In this case, I watched a young woman stuff her Jack Russel puppy into a book bag and strap it on her back. Before she rode off on her bicycle, she asked me if her dog’s head was sticking out. I said, “Yes. And the dog is smiling.” I found this photo op in Sitka, Alaska.
This is my third dog post but the first time in a long time that I am yearning to get a dog. How can you not love a puppy like Max, a beautiful golden retriever?
Whenever, I tell Deb I want a dog, she reminds me that we travel a lot and that I’ll have to be satisfied with Mac. And for the most part, I am. Though Mac rarely treats me like I’m some kind of god like Polly used to. I’m lucky if Mac even wakes up from one of his endless naps when I come home.
Forgive the self-portrait, but since I posted my cat Mac yesterday, I thought I owed it to my dog Polly’s memory to post one of her.
This is the last photo taken of Polly. She had been struggling with bladder cancer and had already had 1/3 of her bladder removed when symptoms of her problem recurred. On the day we took her to the vet to have her put to sleep, she and I went out to my studio for one last official portrait. I set the camera up on a tripod and hooked up a self-timer and took four shots. This is my favorite.
People who see this picture comment on the adoring way she seems to be staring at me and the way her paw seems to be posed on my bare foot. The adoring look really comes from Polly’s eagerness for another treat, which I am holding in my hand. And the paw just happened to rest on my foot – it wasn’t posed there.
They say that we should try to be the kind of person our dogs think we are. Even though Polly has been gone for over five years, I still try to keep that saying in mind. Are we too crazy about our pets?