Meet Rusty. He’s our most prized, but he’s not a possession.
He’s an entity unto himself, with a spirit and a soul just as strong and vital if not more so than any human’s. He’s a sweetie-pie, though we never, ever tell him that (lest he develop a complex). He’s strong, but gentle, determined, but patient – all definitely virtues in a pup.
Of course, he hardly gets any love. We never, ever hug him 473 times a day. We don’t give him treats and excitement after every successful walk, and we keep it very much to ourselves when he gets right what we’re trying to teach him. We don’t believe in positive reinforcement, except in extreme cases like every single day. We believe in being tough, in hardening him for the weirdness of this world and its people, but that’s only because we know that strong dogs are more photogenic.
So here he is. Don’t stare too long – he’ll start to think he’s cute or something.
Oh yes, I’ve got the wanderlust, though it’s tainted by the sad seeds of realism. Anyway, here are a few places where I’d like to go, in no particular order:
- New Zealand
The problem, you see, is that I’m currently without gainful employment, which significantly reduces the likelihood of my getting to these places for a vacation.
But, in case you’re hiring and you’re a resident of one of these fine countries, please allow me to give you my resumé:
- I’m tall, handsome, and debonair. (IMO)
- I’m suave, sophisticated, and humble.
- I’m very useful as extra ballast on a boat (I even come with my own flotation device).
- I’m communicative and outgoing – I punctuate well, and speak English good. 😏
- I’m a very good worker,
- I have a wonderful face for radio.
So if your organization (in one of these fine locales) is looking for someone with all these amazing qualities and more, please contact me by making a comment on this page.
Oh, and here’s a picture from a trip I made last year – flowers from Vancouver Island.
First I was told it would be gone from two to five weeks. When I called at two weeks I was told four to six weeks. When I called at five weeks I was told that no one had received a go-ahead and work hadn’t even started yet!
I got mad. They were playing with my obsession.
Long story short, on the dot of six weeks it was home. Clean, and ready for action.
So let the photos roll.
Here’s an old one to tide things over until the prodigal and I make a trip.
Space, the final frontier
He was preparing to watch the sun set, but the phone rang.
His legs flexed for just a moment – he even put his hands on the arms of the chair. But he didn’t move.
And then he relaxed, sliding back in a happy repose.
“Let them leave a message.”
Just at the threshold of a smooth landing.