pet project

In case you haven't met them before, allow me to present my regular pets; these are not foster pets.  Here, our dog is basking in a golden evening glow.  He likes to sit with us, or ON us.  Notice that he isn't wearing a collar.  We found that it rubbed fur off his neck, so it is only worn when he goes outside.  Our cat appears as an enigmatic shadow in most natural light pictures, but here, you can see some of his form and he was kind enough to let me snap a pic with his eyes open.

There is a corkboard in the lobby at my veterinarian's office.  It is filled with photographs of the pets who appreciate their doctor.  No, it is more than filled, because there are a bunch of new columns that have been added next to the board, with a dozen more pics were taped to the wall.  Then as we look around the other walls, we have the large professional pet shots in fancy frames.  There is a discrepancy between the kind of portraits we see in the personal shots and the higher caliber professional shots, and I would like to see if we can bridge the great gulf between them.  Here is my idea:

What if... I consolidated and simplified the most useful pet portrait tips and created a flyer for these customers to take better pictures?  I mentioned it to the folks at the clinic, and they have not expressed any opposition to it or reservations.  Especially, since it would be a free pamphlet that, once created, would be totally under their control and discretion.

Maybe I could create a checklist, and hand it to a few pet lovers as a test.  They could indicate with a checkmark, which pieces of advice they found most helpful.

What do you think?  Nobel Prize potential or a total waste of time?

eyes that tell stories

You look to the eyes for a story, right?  From time to time, we take in an animal for foster care through our local vet clinic.  This is Mona.  We were supposed to have her for two weeks, but it's stretching to almost three.  Not to worry.  We think we may have found a good home for her.  I think her eyes tell us that she is content.  She has a sweet disposition.  She's gentle and mild, plus, she does not bark much.  In fact, I think my dog taught her that she's supposed to bark when she hears someone at the door.

Her eyes tell another story, too.  The reflection from her eye is in sharp focus, so that if you look carefully, you will see the lighting that I used for this picture.  I took some non-functioning relics that used to be a wireless flash transmitter and receiver, stripped the guts, and hardwired it to make an extension cable from my camera's hot shoe to an external flash.  I mounted the flash on a tripod, and aimed it straight up to the ceiling, and one or two feet to my left.  Since I was blocking some of the light from the windows behind me, the result was that the front lights came from my left and right for a soft fill.  The key light was what the flash bounced off the ceiling.  Black fur absorbs so much light, that I usually find it impossible to see this much detail.  That, plus her eyes are almost always hiding in the shadows.

Oh, and guess what... I did not realize that I had my camera set to "continuous auto-focus."  Last week's zone focusing was a type of manual focusing; this was auto-focused.  So anyway, when I was focusing, then repositioning, a lot of my pics were coming out blurry.  Grrr...  I can't believe it took me so long to find out!!!  That only presented a problem in one of the focusing methods I used.  Maybe I'll talk more about those, later.

an angel among saints

Whew! I have been worked like a dog lately! (That makes as much sense literally, as sweating like a pig.) Gabriel, the dog in this photo is an angel in a house of saints. By way of explanation, the home is owned by godly Christians (saints), and the dog is named after an archangel. Christopher Walken played that same angel in a 1995 movie called The Prophesy, but his character was nothing like either of the other Gabriels. This dog does not work hard at all. He exists by gobbling up dog chow and tons of affection.

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But I digress. Recent events my own life seem to be accumulating exponentially, unrealistically growing into a kind of TARDIS effect, pushing more on my plate that what I can conceivably handle. What I would like to do is just sit for a while and let someone else come and scratch behind my ears, say "good boy" and toss me a treat. Is that too much to ask?

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Gotta go. Lots to do!

grin and Bear it

Poor guy. Our dog (Bear) had surgery, and now has to wear the cone of shame for his own protection. It must be so humiliating. For a healthy puppy his age, it usually means one thing. (wince) He has been robbed of his er... accessories. (heavy sigh)

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It was approximately 15 years ago that we had a female pup (Coco) and she had her special surgery. I remember how she took the little toys and brought them close, as if she wanted a moment to imagine having a litter.

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Who can tell whether it is because of the discomfort and shame, or because of anesthesia, but Bear is out of sorts. He didn't want to eat or drink. And he seemed determined not to ever piddle again. Aww... poor little guy.

a bear in our laundry bin

We took Bear for a drive on Friday. He was too comfortable in his spot, because when I wanted to take him outside and walk him... I think he gave me an attitude about it! Look at him, he's doing the "Who, me?" routine. To be fair, it was drizzling outside.

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Friends, I like the light in this picture. We have a large primary light source: the open van door on an overcast day. And there is some secondary, fill-in light from the windows all around. It's like I had a traveling portrait studio!

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Bear is smaller than a cat, but so much bigger than when we got him. He eats his own food, but steals food from the cat's bowl, too. So far, he has done a fair job of training us.

puppy power

I was ambushed Friday night. When I got home from work, "someone" was waiting for me. The puppy's name is Beau. (I would have named him Sasquatch.) He is ten weeks old. I'm not exactly sure what he is, other than part dachshund.

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I did not want a dog, but my wife and kids did. So far, we're getting along great. But how can a person not like a puppy, right? Besides, this one has a gentle, mild and quiet way about him. Quiet is good; it is very good. He likes to be held a lot. I suppose that is a good thing, too.

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Soon, we will begin his training. Before he is done, I expect him to assist me with my picture-taking. He will need to fetch specific items from my camera bag, set up the tripod, and hold the reflector for me.

pot o' gold

I wonder if you can help me with this whole "pot of gold" thing. The legend is that the leprechauns hide a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, right? Okay, so I found the end of a rainbow. But before I dive into chilly waters and risk a reprimand from the park district... which end of the rainbow has the gold? Plus, is it any rainbow, or do leprechauns stay in Ireland? Please... if you have a leprechaun friend, try to get this information for me, so that we can abscond this legendary loot.

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But if you can't help me with that, I'll be fine. This weekend's marriage conference reminded me that I received a gift from God 22 years ago. (That gift is the fine lady we refer to as "Mrs. Craver.") My wife and I had a great time these past three days, and when we got back to the kids Sunday afternoon, we all took a walk to the park.

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The dog in the photo belongs to my sister-in-law. As you can see, she likes to "hug." To do that, she'll nuzzle up to a person, and lean on them hard, and stay there. I am not really a big lover of dogs, but when my s.i.l. needed a new home for her dear pet, I was happy to oblige as a way to demonstrate how much I care for Mrs. Craver's little sister. I think they said this dog is a Shepherd/Grayhound mix, and she is 15 years old. I'm glad that "old girl" is happy in our home. Speaking of German Shepherds...

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Two guys were walking their dogs-one had a German Shepherd and the other had a Chihuahua. The man with the Shepherd suggested going into a bar for a drink. The other man said, "They're not going to let dogs into the bar."

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The first guy said, "No? Watch this."

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So he put on some dark glasses, acted like the German Shepherd was a seeing-eye dog, walked into the bar, and ordered a drink. And no one said anything. So the second guy took out some dark glasses, slipped them on, and walked his Chihuahua into the bar.

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The bartender said, "Sorry, we don't allow dogs in here."

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And the man said, "It's okay. It's my seeing-eye dog."

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The bartender laughed and said, "This Chihuahua is your seeing-eye dog?"

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And the guy said, "They gave me a Chihuahua?"

good grief

A vet friend talked from his perspective about putting animals down. He thinks that people sometimes put it off too long because they want to spend more time with the animal they love. That is understandable, except that sometimes that means that the poor thing suffers a lot as it dies. I already knew from the bottom of my heart that it was time to say goodbye to Coco, but there was some comfort in hearing this from him. Euthanasia was the most humane option for my pet. Her daily suffering was obvious.

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The process was so peaceful. They gave us as much time as we wanted. When we were ready, they attached an IV. Then, while we were all in the room, saying our goodbyes, they injected an anesthetic into the IV. She felt a dreamy buzz, but only for a moment. The anesthetic quickly put her in la-la land, and she was completely oblivious to our presence. We said our very last goodbyes, and left the room as they put another solution into the IV.

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I honestly expected that I would be untouched by emotion through this. I never felt as close to this dog as to other pets we've had. But when I saw my family in tears, it tore me apart inside. I grieved in earnest because of their grieving.

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I have wondered what it's like to be with a person while the essence of life escapes and turns their body into a vacant shell. Last Friday reminded me that death is a profound mystery to me. Then I tried to wrap my mind around the mystery of life, and how things are sustained or even made alive to begin with! These meditations left me worshipping our marvelous Creator.

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"In him we live and move and have our being." Acts 17:28a

a sunset for coco

Former acquaintances bought a puppy to be their baby's companion. They were new to caring for babies as well as dogs, but I can see how they would think it was the thing to to. Fearing that the little nipper wasn't safe enough, they confined the poor dog to the basement. (That does not improve a puppy's socialization skills.) When they needed to take a trip out of town for a few days, they asked us to care for the pup. That's fine, but they never came back for her. Now we've had her for thirteen years, and before today is over, we will have put her down. I did not feel as close to this dog as the rest of the family, but among the wife and kids in the Craver household, tears will flow freely this weekend.

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Since this is the "sunset" of her life, I dedicate this photo to Coco's memory:

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S1

My eldest: D1 is married, and lives out of state. This is our second: S1, and he was on a short-term missions trip last week, helping the still-suffering victims of Hurricane Katrina. Before anyone accuses me of painting the picture of a super-saint, let me say that we are a normal family, and I sometimes understand why animals sometimes eat their young.

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DW snapped this shot just moments before they drove away. Right after he left, our dog got real sick, and I was concerned that she might keel over while my son was away. If that happened, the others at home would have a chance to "say goodbye" and begin to process the grieving, while he would be completely unaware of it all until his return. All last week, I was hoping the dog would make it through until S1 arrived. He's back now, and the dog's condition has stabilized; I'd say she is in fair condition right now.

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Sometimes I think about how good it would be when our kids are able to successfully leave the nest. (I mean that in the most positive way and in a realistic way as well.) I suppose that's normal, but this past week, I found myself missing this one a lot. Not just because he was incommunicado while our Cocker Spaniel had one foot in the grave, but I really, really missed him, and could hardly wait to see him back home again.

Jiko

The dog's name is "Jiko." It's pronounced GEE-koh. Yes, that's an unusual name. I think my daughter named it after an African restaurant in Disney's Epcot. They took this dog in from a shelter before they had a place that allowed pets. We were to doggy-sit in the mean-time. We ended up having the dog for a year. I grew quite attached. The whole family loved her. She's in Florida now, with my daughter and son-in-law. I expected that we would be seeing this pup more, but it was not to be. I got to spend a couple hours at their apartment, and all the rest of the time, I've been at my parents' home near Orlando.

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When I walked into their apartment, I wasn't sure how the dog was going to respond. It's been forever since we gave the dog back, so I prepared myself in case she did not recognize me, and I had to make a slow re-introduction. Long story short, she licked my face entirely clean, and when I sat at the couch, she plopped herself down comfortably right at my feet. Why can't people be like that, eh?

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I'm looking forward to getting back home, and seeing all the other pets. We virtually have a zoo at home, with all the hamsters and fish, and dog and cat. There are a few people I really like to hang out with, too. Maybe I'll lick their faces and sit at their feet, just to let them know how much I missed them.