All Our Children Meow and Woof
I created this blog to sort through my emotions as Finnegan, a great Irish Wolfhound, fought bone cancer for nearly 26 months. Fortunately, his battle subsided for many months and during the course of the 26 months, I shared stories about his feline siblings. On August 8, 2008, Finny passed on in my husband's and my arms. He fought the good fight and he will always have a special place in my heart. *If you have a question, please write me at finnegandog at gmail dot com.*
Friday, October 26, 2007
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
My Pictures Bring All the Girls to the Yard
Our attempt at a Glamor shot. Not so glamorous, eh?
I am that big.
Mama is possessed by my beauty.
I'm just possessed.
Mama does not want to get intimate.
These pictures were done by Emma Steinfeld's significant other. He did a fantastic job but we wanted to show some of the goofier pictures today. Mama promises more because she knows how restless you dog bloggers can get!!
Monday, October 22, 2007
2007 Autumn Photo Spread
Humans are weird. Period. I could stop there but I will finish my thought. Mama and I did our photo shoot Saturday morning in the back yard with Emma Steinfeld's significant other, Al. Of course it kept raining while we posed for photographs. When it did, we ran under the tree, waited for a break in the clouds, and then posed again. Mama is a wuss and insisted on kneeling on a towel while I reclined in the wet grass. But that's okay, I'm Irish and enjoy a good overcast day. So Al took about 100 or so photographs of us and Mama kept worrying about the circles under her eyes, her hair, and her smile. All I can say is one of is photogenic and you all know who that it is, right? Right? Oh yeah.
I find the concept of smiling odd. If a doggy smiles, it's considered snarling, growling or showing our teeth. If a mama does it, she is supposed to be happy, jolly, or enjoying herself. What's with that? And she kept trying to brush me all morning and I would have nothing to do with it; alas, my disheveled look. I know you all are wondering where the photos are because clearly, you could not care less about my beautiful prose. TOO BAD! But the photographer is editing them a lot because Mama takes bad pictures, something about dark circles, weird smile, funny looking (Mama: hey! that's enough!). So when we get the disk and get permission from Mr. Al, we will post a few so you can see the beauty that is Finnegan and the...the...Mamaness that is Mama.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Yes, I am still here despite Mama's new blog. She has not forgotten about me. Mama decided that she wants a friend's boyfriend to take a portrait of her and me. I suppose Daddy can be in the picture but I think it would be nice to have a picture of the two of us. We do have a special bond, after all. So I was thinking if we are going to do portraits then we should definitely do glamour shots. Do you know what I mean? Those really cheesy pictures from the 1980's and perhaps the 1990's?
I was thinking we could have a pastel background with some soft back lighting. I could be looking up at Mama and she could be resting her chin on her fist and be looking off into the distance. Or I could be resting my head on my fist and she could have her arms folded on me as she leans just enough against me to show that extra special bond we have. Of course, all the pictures would need that soft back lighting.
And then I was thinking outfits because we all know the key to glamour shots is coordinating outfits. We could really glam it up and wear sparkly shirts and feather boas. Wow. Now what doesn't say classy more than feather boas? Or we could show our Irish roots and wear green sweaters. That would be really awesome. Boy, I have some really great idea.
Do any of you have any requests or suggestions for Mama and my glamour shots?
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Monday, October 08, 2007
Hot Weather + Stinky Dog = BATH!
I'm sure you know that I am not one to complain. Generally, I am an easy going dog. I lounge, I eat, I drink, and I give out love. But there is one thing that gets me every time: baths. What is wrong with a little natural dog odor? A few dreadlocks never harmed anyone, right?
Mama did not have the same opinion as I. Here in the east, it is ridiculously hot for this time of year. Eighties hot. So what was Mama's logical leap from warm sunny weather? Give Finnegan a bath! Oh what a great idea! Soak the Irish Wolfhound! Hahahahahaha. Ha. Ha... heh.
Now I am totally on to Mama's tricks of the trade. First, she shakes the leash so I think "COOL! WE ARE GOING SOMEPLACE WICKED AWESOME AND IT WILL BE NEAT! AND AWESOME!"
And then, she brings me out back and hooks my leash on me. In the meantime, she has put my shampoos and conditioners over by the hose. Again I think: "OH WOW! WE ARE GOING SOMEPLACE SUPER COOL! COULD IT BE A DOG PARK? PERHAPS DOGGY DAY CARE?"
Finally, the last straw, she leads me toward...the other. side. of. the. house. Yes, THAT side. The side with the DREADED HOSE. She almost gets me to the spot where she hooks up my leash and I PUT ON THE BRAKES. Mama tries to tug and pull and prod and bribe. My mistake, I believed her when she mentioned the word "treat". I let my guard down and followed her over. DAMN! She tricked me. Humans suck.
So she soaked, and bathed, and conditioned, and rinsedandrinsedandrinsed. And then she rinsed some more. As I've said before, my favorite part is shakyshakyshaky and the towel off. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!
So now I'm clean and shiny and new. I satisfied Mama's need to make me pretty. And guess, what, it won't be 80 for a long time so NO BATH FOR ME! Ha!
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Saturday morning I was out back, minding my own business of course, when I heard a yipping from the back fence. Typically, I hear yipping from either side of my kingdom but never from the back. So of course, in my curious Wolfhound fashion, I had to investigate. I tromped over to the back fence and what did I find? A Jack Russell Terrier. A very barky excited Jack Russell Terrier named Newman who was all up in my bid-ness. Well of course I sniffed and wagged and greeted. After all, I am the king of friendly kindness.
And I thought this sniffing between the fence would be it. But what? What? Hello? What's going on here? Dude? What are you DOING? Sure enough, the little bugger squeezed himself under the fence and jumped and jumped and jumped for joy.
WHOA! Settle down! I'm a wise older man without your impish energy. I can't keep up with whatever crazy is going on in your head.
Zipping. Back. And. Forth. Never ending energy! So I played along. I galloped. I woofed. I stomped. A one footed stomp of course. And he dashed and zipped and HEY WAIT! He nipped and then again NIPPED! Whoa!Whoa!WHOA! Do you know who you are dealing with? The king of dogs? The wise and woolly? But no, this little guy wanted to be the boss. The Napoleon Complex could not be quashed. I played the final card and bared my teeth.
By this point, Mama and Daddy came out back, grabbed me and then scooted the little feller over the fence. Did it stop? Did he fear me and stay on his side of the fence?
No. Back under the fence he came. Again Mama grabbed him and Daddy found pieces of wood to cover up the gaps. No matter what we did, he came back until finally there were no spaces for him to slither underneath to gain access to my kingdom.
And so he sits there by the fence. Barking. Hoping to regain entrance to be in the presence of greatness.