thank Dog. photography » fun, artistic, modern pet portraits | Dallas,Texas

It’s been a little while since I last posted anything, but I’ve been super busy — unexpectedly going out of town for several days, getting everything together for/setting up my first booth at an outdoor festival (more on that below), working late nights, deleting over 6,200 spam comments (okay that last one hasn’t really occupied much time, particularly once I designated some filter words, but seriously – over 6,200 spam comments on my last post. I don’t know how it/they/he/she found this blog, but it doesn’t make me happy.)  Anyway, things are finally settling back down.

The booth.  Last weekend (May 2-3) was the White Rock Lake Foundation Festival.  I’ve gone – and taken my dogs – to it the past few years.  It’s a small outdoor festival, but there are always tons of people there with their pooches (the dog park is just across the bridge) so I thought I’d get a booth to get the “thank Dog.” name out there.   Unfortunately I don’t have any photos of the booth all set up — I was planning on bringing my camera with me on Sunday.  But first, Saturday afternoon happened.  It had been overcast and a little drizzly all day, and then, at around 2:30pm, one of the organizers came by and said the weather service had warned that a thunderstorm would be blowing through the area at about 4pm.  Looking at the sky, it didn’t look like it would be that long.  So my dad and I frantically took down the canvases and prints and stuck them in plastic bags and shoved everything into the center of the tent.  About the time we were finishing putting up the front panel of the tent, the storm blew in.  BLEW IN.  At like 40 mph.  This storm.  My dad and I were standing inside my tent, holding it down, while it started to fill with water.  Lightning striking WAY TOO CLOSE for comfort.  After what seemed like an hour (but was probably more like 15 minutes), the skies calmed a bit, giving us just enough time to back my truck right up to the tent and load most everything but the tables, chairs and tent inside.  

The next day, I went back to see the damage.

By the time I got over there at about 1pm, the water had receded (the water line is about 12 inches up) and the above is what I was left with.  Luckily, nothing was ruined – just dirty and buggy.  

Others didn’t fare as well…

Not exactly the weekend I had in mind – but I figure the next time I set up a booth, it’ll be a piece of cake by comparison.

Nevertheless, in the few hours I was set up, I had a chance to meet some great people and get a couple dozen entries into the drawing for a free session.  To ensure there were no shenanigans, Bear insisted on choosing the winner himself…. 

Congratulations Roscoe!

I typically let the dogs out in the backyard for one last chance to pee before finally going to bed.  I’m a night owl, so their last trip outside usually is really late.  No big deal except recently Belle has decided to open up to the neighborhood and tell them all her deep, dark secrets.  In a very loud voice.  This is also typically when she decides “come” means “louder.  and dance!”  

Last night was way more than a confessional.  I let the two little turds out sometime around 2am and immediately heard them – both of them – go crazy.  Barking.  Lunging at the fence.  Going insane.  Scared me for a minute (what if the boogeyman is on the other side of the fence), but soon I realized they were trying to reach something on the top of the fence, sort of hidden in some vines.  Polly Possum was back.  I’ve had possum visitors before and the dogs bark a bit, but last night was different.  They went full-on mental.  And they were actually jumping up to try to reach it, which they hadn’t done before, and were getting dangerously close.

Sweet Bear reluctantly came when I called in my serious-I-mean-business-get-your-butt-over-here-NOW voice.  Belle?  Maybe she had a brief spell of hearing loss.  It would explain the lack of hearing and volume control.  She was behind/inside bushes in the mud, trying to tear the fence down.  At 2am.  Screaming at Polly.  At 2am.  With me screaming at her.  Eventually the sound of my voice apparently made it through her selective hearing, and she very reluctantly came over to me where I could grab her to make her go back inside.  Lessons learned?  Obedience lessons have a limited shelf life (definitely time for a refresher) and possums either (a) are delicious or (b) pose a great danger that must be eliminated.   

Changing the subject to a different newf-bite-sized creature, my next door neighbors have adopted a little chihuahua girl who is terrified of her shadow.  Poor little thing doesn’t really let anyone else get too close, but she’s realized I usually have treats.  Now she typically comes running up (keeping her buffer distance, but getting closer) whenever she sees me.  She knows the chicken chips are coming.