Isn’t this a great photo of me? “Portrait quality,” my mom says proudly.
William, one of the dog park regulars, took this photo. He’s got several photos of my mom, too, in her raggedy old shorts and her hair sticking out. She refuses to post them.
So what am I doing here? Worshiping my mom? Giving thanks to universal forces that saved me from a dog rescue group and brought me to a nice apartment in Seattle, with a mom who could be worse and a couple of cats who keep things from getting dull…not to mention an Aunt Sara who escorts me to a wonderful dog park twice a week?
No way.
Someone is holding out a TREAT. What could be more essential? See how I’m totally focused, 100%?
“That’s how I should be about my work,” the mom says ruefully. “Or my various self-improvement projects.”
Like most dogs, I know when it’s time to speak and time to be silent. The hand that holds the treat must be respected.