Monday, February 23, 2009

In The House

Comments on the snow had exhausted their novelty. Still, it fell. Some liked to argue that winter built character, yet prisons were full of characters. Winter was an ordeal through which we suffered. It didn't make a person any better than a root canal. Nor was it likely to do much more damage than boot camp. Winter lay somewhere between a root canal and boot camp. Have a lovely week.

In The House

Milla was the sunshine monitor.

In The House


Mr. Lovey Boy Kiko.

In The House


Getting your basenji hot.

In The House


Two speeds: High and Super Low.

In The House


More snow.

In The House


The back of bosco's sleeping head.

In The House

"They must pump sleeping gas into this place."

In The House


Bosco in a sunny window, asking himself, "Now what?"

In The House


Sometimes Kiko had to kiss.

In The House


Snow hatted army of last year's flowers, on the march.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Froze Solid

The sidewalk was every bit as cold as it had been against their naked sphincters outside the kitchen door. A collie could wrap its tail around its parts, but basenjis, being from the Congo, never bothered to insulate that which seemed superfluous. Then, the space age, jet travel, Americans with disposable income, and, voila! basenjis were sitting outside a kitchen door in Minnesota trying to hold their nether parts a little higher off the ground because people had decided they were better off cold than dead.

Froze Solid


Tandem peeing, an olympic event.

Froze Solid


Milla's feet slid on the ice.

Froze Solid


Milla, mom dog, hunter.

Froze Solid


A nose with a basenji attached.

Froze Solid


All at once the pack looked to their left.

Froze Solid


No snow, and just a little ice.

Froze Solid


Birdbath.

Froze Solid

Milla on ice.

Froze Solid


Kiko-eye view of the world

Froze Solid


Eyes right!

Froze Solid


Bosco lifted his manly dog leg.

Froze Solid


Bosco lifted his leg.

Froze Solid


Everyone's attention for 1/400 of a second.

Froze Solid


Milla and a cement bunny.

Froze Solid


White guy's foot in the snow.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Some Thaw


The snow pack was softening. Everybody felt better about things, not because there was any great difference, but just because the signs had become encouraging. It was almost over, like a cease-fire had been negotiated. The basenjis were willing to go outside again, and they had begun leaving muddy footprints on the floor when they came back in. It was swell.

Some Thaw


Warmer weather made Kiko and Bosco more willing to hit the ground running.

Some Thaw


Milla liked to lurk and watch.

Some Thaw


Goofy-Gus dog stuff.

Some Thaw


Even dead grass made Kiko barf.

Some Thaw


Milla gazed at the sky.

Some Thaw


Snow on our roof.

Some Thaw


Kiko and the lantern.

Some Thaw


Finn, the whippet, walked his person.

Some Thaw


Kiko's patented quick turn.

Some Thaw


Milla crawled over Bosco.

Some Thaw


The Pack.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Faux Thaw

Kiko was the youngest, the fastest, and the strongest. Trouble was, he had yet to grow much of a brain. He had been with us about a year after being rejected by another family because he made their son itch. He was bred in a puppy mill, and sold in a pet store in Colorado. He still suffered night frights, and woke up screaming from time to time. He always apologized with profuse kisses. He had no tact, and lacked finesse altogether, but he was learning. He was overwhelmingly worth the trouble he accidentally brought with him.

Faux Thaw


Northern Sea Oats gone to seed.

Faux Thaw


Milla contemplated the snow.

Faux Thaw


Kiko poked around.

Faux Thaw


Bosco on alert.

Faux Thaw


Kiko in the leafless branches.

Faux Thaw


Milla had the best wrinkles.

Faux Thaw


I'll bite you, then you bite me, then I'll bite you.

Faux Thaw


Milla basked in the sunshine through the window, like a John Denver song.

Faux Thaw


Basenjis kept their tongues on a roller at the back of their mouth, unrolling it only when needed.

Faux Thaw


An invisible Bosco.