gimme gimme

Go to the bottom of this post for an update...

My family may have seen the last of Gimme.  That's his name-- as in, "give me."  That's what my daughter has been calling this foster puppy because of how he craves attention and food.  With him, it's just, "Gimme, gimme, gimme!"  But he's such a cute puppy, that the desire for attention and affection has been mutual.  Time and time again, I reinforced my position that he was only passing through, and we will not be keeping him.  But I expected that when the time came, we would at least get the chance to say a proper goodbye.

A day came for my daughter to perform a home inspection for a prospective pet owner.  They were interested in adopting Gimme.  Back at home, we didn't realize that we might not see him again.  D2 brought him to their house, observed the interactions, recognized that by all visible indications this was a healthy and happy environment.  The decision was made that they could begin fostering the puppy immediately, and possibly all the way until the time they can complete the adoption.

It's a life lesson that I have been taught over and over.  You don't know when someone (even a puppy) is going to move away or otherwise be taken out of your life.  In my case, I'm just talking about a puppy, but I know you have experienced this lesson at a more significant level.  We do not always have the opportunity to process a goodbye.

I wish I could have spent more time taking pics, writing and visiting blogs last week.  I was under unusual pressure from the convergence of a dental emergency plus 3 to 4 weeks of cramming for a presentation/debate where I was to be the underdog.  Everything seems to have turned out okay though.

UPDATE: 
D2 saw him at the animal clinic.  Look at how big he's gotten!  His new foster family will most likely adopt him, and by all accounts they're going to provide a great home.  They have named him "Diesel."  I like it.

velvet spot

He looks like he might be called "Spot;" doesn't he?  I shouldn't name him, because he's not really my dog.  We are a foster home.  Someone found him alone in a field, and brought him to the animal clinic.  The vet asked us to take care of him for a while.  My daughter bottle feeds him every two hours.

He wriggles nonstop.  I wanted to take a picture of him without using harsh light or a flash, so I had to be very patient, using available light, only.  Eventually, I got this.  I said, "Finally, he is holding still long enough to snap a decent picture."  My wife asked, "Do you know why?  That's because he's piddling on our couch."  D'oh!  (Yet another reason to call him Spot, right?)

We cleaned it up right away, and there wasn't any permanent damage, so I think it was worth the hassle.

Last Saturday, they said they estimate that he is two weeks old, and he's probably a Pitt Bull Terrier.  We have to wash our hands any time we want to touch him.  And like babies are wont to do, he quicly manages to clamp on to a finger and attempts to extract milk from it.  That felt strange and very funny when he didn't have teeth, but they're already starting to come in.  Tiny, sharp teeth have made their way past the gums.  At this rate, he'll shred the nipple off the baby bottle before the week is done.

I wonder how much damage this poor little guy will suffer because of being separated from the natural family bond that is supposed to occur at this stage.  Not too much, I hope.  I've known pit bulls that have been raised to be very kind and gentle family pets.

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.

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.

calm before the storm

We watched icicles melt off the bushes on Friday. I was fascinated by their clarity and the trapped air bubbles. The weather was nice enough for routine car maintenance on Saturday, so I checked fluid levels for the cars. We discovered a problem and my car got fixed. (Thanks, Brother Greg!) Good thing, because we have a big snow storm forecasted, and they're talking about record accumulation, high winds, even thunder and lightning.

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As I write this someone said we're in the calm before the storm. Who's calm?! Have you seen how gas prices spiked and how busy things are at the grocery stores right now? On a lighter side, our puppy is tiny, so it will be funny to see how he reacts to huge piles of snow. I expect he will love it. We renamed him "Bear." You can see how small he is compared to my shoe.

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Everyone at the office expects that when the storm hits, we will have to shut down for a day. I have mixed feelings about that. Let's see what happens...

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.