Carfax was a lively old space this morning. Sunshine, laughter, chatter and then a loud shout; “Oi! Stop eating that bubble gum!” The chunky hound under scrutiny assumed a “Who me?” expression. Soaking up the sunshine.
A walk around Hay on Wye led to a temporary breaking of the ‘no dog’ street photo rule. Sorry. Jackies, as much as books, characterised the town. And who could ignore the pink bling?
Back out with my camera in Oxford today. I remembered another thing I learned from Antonio Olmos; travel light. Just the camera (no lens) and money/keys in my pocket. This was very liberating, and I got much closer to people. Quicker getaway without a lot of baggage. Cough cough*.
There was a lot going on for a rainy February afternoon. I broke the no animal rule, but rules are meant to be broken. And learned that it helps to have a good relationship with the local Big Issue seller.
*took a fab pic of a mother and baby watching an owl. Can’t bring myself to share it.
“Must admit, I’m not a great dog lover, me. And you get them…they kind of come up to me and sniff me knees. You know what I mean? They sniff me knees, but once one dog’s sniffed me knees, other dogs can smell that dog on my overalls and they all want to sniff me knees. I got a cat at home. That probably doesn’t help either, as the dogs can probably smell the cat too. So I tend to shoo em away, like. You know, shake me legs a bit. But one man got a bit uppity when I did that. He was like “My dog wouldn’t hurt anyone!”, but these days, you don’t really know that. A lot of dogs that shouldn’t hurt people do hurt them. So I try to keep away from them… Yeah.. Just the one sugar thank you.”
Richy went to watch zombie films this evening.
LB combed his hair. He combed his hair all day because he thinks it’s got bits in it.
Tom watched the end of Harry Potter.
Me? I read some Eva Kittay stuff.
And Stan and Bess waited. And watched.
Holidays. Shudder. Even the word makes me feel queasy. Going on holiday was like taking a bunch of pups off to some new park, full of smells, the hint of the odd rabbit and plenty of trees to piss against.
Plus, of course, the real hounds who delivered their own brand of disruption effectively most trips. (Little aside here to mention the infamous time that Stan decided to have a wee on Petey’s designer sweatshirt on the beach in Pembrokeshire. Sigh).
So a gentle, informative, visual start to this new thread…
1. Find space.
That’s it.
Another photo-blog. This time, open day at the Dog’s Trust. Quite interesting, as with the Museum of Weddingkind, when you start to think about what is going on here. Anyway, it seemed the whole of the middle of England converged on the open day. Ferret racing, dog competitions, burgers, ice creams, tombola’s, dog food and a tour of the available dogs was on offer. I was struck by how many dogs were wearing cones. I wondered if it was a ploy to crank up the ‘ahh factor’. It was certainly working judging by the chorus of ‘ahhh’s’ at each new cage. Funny how Brits go crazy for a wounded animal but treat so many people like shite.
mydaftlife 