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Monthly Archives: October 2013

Then this (ugh) happened

Then this happened.

Uh huh, you say. Of course it did, sweetie. Now might you clue us in on what you’re on about now? Because this is making absolutely no sense.  You know that, right?

No no, it’s ok.  I can explain.  Really.

You see, it all started when I was finalizing travel plans with the puppy raiser of Euka’s littermate, Ella, for the following day. This effort of carpooling coordination is worthy of due diligence. Should traffic karma be on our side, the drive to Dublin for the Canine Companions for Independence’s Walk’N Roll fundraiser is darn near an hour and a half.  Or it could take longer if I-70 snarl-ups arise. And those are the times when it’s important to really like your carpool partner.

As a final thought as we close our IM conversation, Maggie says to me so Euka still hasn’t started her heat cycle yet?  Are you sure she’s not already pregnant? When are the puppies due?

I know, right? I’m hoping for Rottweiler Labrador cross, actually
, I say.  A Labrottie.  Cuz it sounds like an Italian race car.  Then I make rrr-rrr-rooombaa race car sounds.  Which Maggie can’t hear because we’re IMing.

I’m feeling a “Caption This” post coming on.

This a running joke between us, the puppy due date thing. Our delicate flower, Miss Euka, is the last girl in her litter to, well, become a woman, as they say.  All the girls have either started their first estrus cycle or have finished the process to return to the business of growing up to be service dogs.

Wait just a sec, you say. Not only does that have no connection to the enigmatic photos you keep throwing on here, but what’s this about service dogs in heat? We dedicated readers are all over here thinking you might want to cut back on the cold meds a little.

Ah, yes. I love that word, enigmatic, too. It’s no mystery it makes me rather happy to see you use it, hahaha [snort]. And I appreciate your concern over this nasty cold bug I’m trying so hard not to spread to friends and family. Even though one of you gave it to me first. And I know who you are, buster.

And hang loose here, people.  I’ll tie all this together for you. Just give me a minute willya, sheesh.

About that going into heat thing … Euka and her sisters were selected at birth as possible future breeders of possible future service dogs. I’d love to go on and on about CCI’s stellar breeding program, but after just a few sentences I’d be making things up. I’m simply not that close to it. Let’s just stick with the facts here then.

From CCI’s website:

Best of the Best.  Breeder dogs and their puppies are the foundation of our organization. We carefully select and breed Labrador Retrievers, Golden Retrievers and crosses of the two after an intensive evaluation process.

Our breeding program staff checks each dog’s temperament, trainability, health, physical attributes, littermate trends and the production history of the dam and sire. Only then are the “best of the best” chosen as CCI breeder dogs.

Did you catch that?  Best of the best, y’all.  Now as a possible future breeder, Euka was determined to have the right stuff, genetically speaking, to be considered a candidate for the breeding program.  She will be evaluated as she matures and this assessment will continue after she begins Advanced Training at CCI.

That is, we carry on as normal with this puppy raising business. Because even though she is a candidate, the odds are very much against her. The dogs in the final selection for the breeding program are held to some very high standards. Only a small percentage of potential candidates are selected to make more service dogs for CCI.

And when I say, we puppy raisers are tasked to carry on as normal, what I really mean is exactly that. Until our little girl goes into heat, that is. And then things take a sharp left in the fork of Puppy Raiser Lane.

Ok, heads up. Here’s where we connect all the dots in this story for you. Ready?

Recall that Maggie and I were joking about Labrotties in our IM?  I’m still making stupid race car sounds, when I reach down next to my chair where Euka is napping.  A casual peek just to double-check the status of the girly goods and . . . Maggie? I gotta go. I’ll call you later. 

Growing up on the farm, it was a Rated-R experience when any of our dogs started a heat cycle. We had dogs we’d never seen before visiting our place like it was Discount Day at the brothel or something. And with that psyche damaging childhood experience, I am fully aware of the dangers of Italian race cars.

Nothing to be done about it but deliver Miss Euka to the safety of the CCI regional center. The Spa Experience, we call it.

And because Euka will likely be at the Spa for the next three weeks, we’ll miss her lovely presence at the various and sundry Autumn season festivities. Only my favorite time of year, no big deal. So I’m grieving over the loss of photo ops at the pumpkin farm with Euka. I have to accept there will be no shots of her admidst the painted autumn leaves. No girly girl Halloween costumes.

Wait, what? No costume photos? Oh nuh uh, that ain’t right. I look at the clock. Between the revelation of our situation and getting Euka to the Spa, we only have about two hours of daylight left. But in those two hours?  One of  ’em is the photographer’s favorite.  The Golden Hour of Light.

I’m so getting a Halloween photo of the princess. This will happen. Oh yes, y’all, this will happen.

I have a lot of frames that look pretty
much just like this one.

But yeah, before that happened?  The stuff in the above photos happened. I just wanted a shot of Euka all back lit by the setting sun.  With devil horns on.

And this happened.

I blame the hormones.

She tossed those babies off her head and, with the devil horns clamped in her maw,  proceeded to run about like ….ok, like the devil was hot on her tail.

There’s nothing like a good romp about the yard to drive out the gremlins, wouldn’t you say?  Once the imps were out of her system, things settled down a little.

So, then this could happen.

Ah, a nice back lit golden hour photo of Euka rocking a set of devil horns. That’s all I was after here.  Well, once I lowered my standards some.

I was successful in a couple of other costume shots too. But those photos will have to happen in a later post.

Because right now, people?  I’m missing the little devil girl and I have to go wake Micron up ‘cuz he looks like he needs a hug real bad [sniffle]. And that’s gonna happen next.

Wordless Wednesday: Walk’N Roll 2013

Rain, rain go away, shouts Euka. Come again some other day. Little Euka wants to play.
But don’t come back next Saturday, she adds. Euka’s chant is intended for this coming Saturday, October 12.
But being a web-toed water dog by birth, Miss Euka doesn’t mind getting a little wet. She’s not the kind of girl that worries about her hair or something.  And we were glad to see so many folk, dogs and human beans both, ready to participate in last Saturday’s Walk’N Roll DogFest fundraiser for Canine Companions for Independence in Indianapolis.  At last count, this event raised just under $24,000 for CCI. 
We lovers of all things dog have become accustomed to pesky weather patterns, including the intermittent rain that persisted all day last Saturday. We tend to be a hearty lot, we dog walkers, and yet I was relieved when we were blessed with a break in the weather as we started the event. Not being a web-toed water person, I do tend to worry about the hair. Just a bit.
So this next Saturday, let’s all shout at the rain to go away. Because we’re all registered to participate in the Walk’N Roll DogFest in Dublin, Ohio on October 12.  So far, there’s a promise of a gorgeous day ahead.
Join us? Local folk can get more information and register at this link: click here
And be sure to visit our CCI Walk’N Roll page to leave your kind words of motivation for Miss Euka at http://www.cci.org/dogfestcolumbus/euka

Let’s talk about the dogs and the bees

An over-the-shoulder look from my classy, yet contrary model.
Because there were two kids standing there she wanted to see.

It was a little like being a kindergartner in a high school art class.

It’s a picture of a bee, I said. I made you a bee. And despite valiant attempts to tamp it down, the declaration is followed by a quick and self-conscious apology. It’s a little blurry.

It’s a very nice bee, said the kind teacher. Now who wants to share their picture next?

Ugh. It’s my own fault, I know.  I signed up for a nature photography class being led by a professional photographer that I really admire*. The guy is an artist with his camera and I was eager to learn how he performs his magic. Get me some new skills and stuff like that to add to my own personal style. 

Introductions should have been my first awakening of what I got myself into this time.  Hi, I’m Donna, I say. I take pictures of dogs.

I know I shared more than that, but I was distracted after looking about the room and just threw out some random facts. Yup, pretty sure I was the most *cough* experienced in life.  Have any of these people even held a film camera in their short lives?  Ever had the chance to fall in love with the chemical smell in a dark room? Dodge and burn an image using an enlarger? I’m guessing, with the exception of the professional fella, it’s not very bloody likely.

Good grief, in my day we goofed around with the settings on the camera then had to wait days upon days to see how bad we screwed up the shot. But today everything is instant gratification, isn’t it?  We decide the destiny of our snapshots with a, well, snap decision. You don’t like the image?  Well, easy ’nuff to delete it. Or post it on social media.  Either one.

But no matter, seeing things with the eye of an artist doesn’t have a thing to do with age or camera settings or even dark room experience. You either have it or you are good with numbers or something. This was apparent at the end of the seminar when we shared what we captured during our time with the flowering photo ops outside.



I took so many shots of this jerk that
I should have named the little beestard.
You know what? I think I will.
I dub this fuzzy fellow Fred MacBlurry**.

One after another, we all handed over our memory cards and declared our favorite shot to put on the big screen to share in front of God and everybody.

Nice composition … I like how you set up the grouping …  Good close up … Wonderful job with backlighting … Um, nice bee.

Yeah, I spent my hour tracking a stupid bee. With a macro lens. At the end of the shoot, I just did a Picard face palm. What was I thinking?  Who tries to take a photo of a moving object with a macro lens anyway?

Well, me.*** 

So sure, in the end I did learn quite a bit about composition, natural lighting and how to work some advanced settings on the Canon. Maybe the most helpful is the new knowledge about taming that on-body flash that I have developed a hate-hate relationship with.

Yeah, and I learned that I kinda suck at nature photography. I simply just don’t have an eye for it.  You know why?  Because I don’t have a passion for the stuff, flower groupings and all that. There’s beauty out there all ready to be captured, it’s just that I don’t see it in my viewfinder. I’ll have leave it to the folk that do.

So I’ll stick with what I know and know very well. That one single subject of canine goodness that I find so rich. The timing was good here, because the next day after the nature photography seminar, Euka and I were working a CCI info table at Aullwood Farm.

Thank dog, I thought. I need a self-esteem boost. With the overcast skies, this is my all-time favorite of outdoor lighting.  A wonderful diffused light that softens shadows, but still allows nice highlights.  It’s gonna be a great day for a doggie photo shoot at the farm, I think.

But that happy thought was popped like a the fragile bubble it was. Miss Euka was in one of her contrary moods.  She rocks an expert level at passive-aggressive naughtiness.  Worse, what she was up to this time wasn’t even a behavior that I could offer a correction for.

In one shot after another, she either squinted her eyes at me, adjusts her ears into a weird position, stretched her neck out or would drop eye contact at the sound of the shutter click. 

Oh, this isn’t the sun in her eyes or the sky is too bright. This is Euka telling me she’s just not in the mood for this nonsense today and can’t we go back to the info table to see more kids?

I’m getting so focused on getting a shot of her with her eyes open, that I forgot about venial sin in portrait photography.

Not paying attention to what’s in the background.

I know, I could crop this down some.  And end up with two stalkerish white tennies behind that lovely outstretched neck.

Or hey, there’s the other option that is the hallmark of digital photographers everywhere. Just set the shutter setting to Continuous.  It’s just as cheap to take fifty photos as it is only one carefully framed shot.

click…click…click…You’ll have to open her eyes at some point, girly girl…click…click…click…Euka! Cookie!…click…click. 

Hah! Got it.

Cookie?

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*Photography by Jim Crotty.  Do check out his Facebook page and see if you might appreciate his gorgeous work, too.

** Get it? A play on Fred MacMurray? You know …  Fred MacMurrayMy Three Sons, The Absent Minded Professor (1961), The Shaggy Dog?  Oh c’mon, this has to be reaching some of you, right?  [crickets]  Anyone?  Hello … ?

***Fixation: because just giving up is for sissies.

Wordless Wednesday: Pareidolia has landed

I’m aware the privacy fencing on the patio needs replacing. Oh, I do. I know this because it keeps coming up on the honey-do list, even though the task never seems to make it to the top ten of what to fix next in our quaint little abode.

Built in 1949, our house was the first in the area. And I say the place, with its time worn charm, is aging gracefully.  I stand alone with this conviction.

So instead of worrying about the awkward slant our tired fencing has decided as its position of comfort, I see a photo op in the manner of an open knothole.

And pretty sure that I can get a dog nose to poke through there.

That’s Jager’s snooter in the top photo.  Not exactly what my mind’s eye envisioned when I set up the shot. If you look closer, perhaps you see what I do.  A pink alien head with big black eyes peering out with a sense of benign curiosity.  Now I can’t not see it.*

And then this.

Yup, another grayling peeking out, this one with a more ominous gaze. Micron’s boop button won’t even fit through the knothole.

But because it’s the mighty Micron. We get this too.

Good lord, check out the length of the shadow the thing has cast. Some fearsome alien weapon, that tongue.

Yeah, I’m done now.  Prolly should move the fence replacement up a notch or two on the list.

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*The ability to see faces and other stuff in random images is pareidolia.  I couldn’t remember this word, nevermind spell it, without help from Google.

But check out the ever helpful Google and its sentient attempts to guess what I wanted to look up.

Ability to see farts, people? I am not going to do an image search on this. I am not.

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