family, goodness, life

Proof; dogs are the best

OMFG ok so apparently there is a professional photographer (named Carli Davidson) who has FINALLY decided to do what I wanted to do in middle school: take photos of dogs mid-shake.  You can see them here.

For the record: Dogs are awesome, and in no small part because they do hilarious stuff like shaking all their loose skin around so hard that they hit themselves in the eye with their own lips.  I think people love dogs because they’re the same animal before and after doing something stupid and humiliating.  They’re panting and happy before they accidentally run into the wall on their way down the stairs, and they’re panting and happy afterward.  Who wouldn’t love that kind of hilarious consistency?

I had a 130lb golden retriever growing up named Buster.  He was the BEST.  He would lean on you with all his weight if you pet him, and fall over if you stepped away too fast.  His tail was so strong that it could (and did) slam doors.  He would occasionally go nuts, and run up and down the stairs at break-neck speed for no reason, only to slip on the wood floor at the base of the stairs, and roll around in my parents room with a mad look in his eyes before taking off down the hall again.  When we played with him, he would never gnaw on us too hard.  Mom would yell “Ow!” when he chewed on her arm, and he would let go and calm down until she pet him to show she was ok.  He kept her company at home while she took time off work.  Sister liked to put hats on him, and tried to get him to sleep in her bed (he always took up all the room).  He was a total softie, and would scamper to hide behind us if a significantly smaller dog barked at him on the street.  I once kicked a dog that went after him.  When the owner yelled at me, I told him to put his (significantly smaller) animal on a leash.  The only time anyone ever heard him growl was when Mom was home alone, and a man who came to the house wouldn’t let her shut the front door on him.  Buster apparently stood next to Mom and snarled.  The man left.  What a great dog.  We found him in 1995 wandering the streets while babysitting another golden retriever named Sadie.  He died at home in 2002 while I was on a first (and last) date with a friend.  He was the BEST.

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