Monday, January 31, 2005

Dogs 71-80

"Shaggy and Scooby: THE METAL YEARS."

Tied up right outside Papalote, my favorite taqueria in the entire city,* and he knows he's missing out. Mostly it's in the eyes, and the fact that he kept giving me the finger through the window while I ate my burrito.

* It's on 24th and Valencia; they make this insane salsa.

That healthy happy face is code for "As soon as no one's looking, and I can figure out how to get this leash off, that freakin' basket is mine."

Actually, when I got closer, I became fairly certain that I'd seen this guy before (see the previous set), and he confirmed it by getting up again to come say hi. I didn't have any biscuits this time either, but I swore next time I'd have 'em.

Behold the Dogblog's first basset hound!

You can tell excitement simply courses through his veins.

(the slammin' techno soundtrack to this picture will kick in any minute now, I promise)

(sniff sniff) "Come on, I know there's an escape route here somewhere goddammit." (sniff) "Oh wait, I'm tied to a tree."

I think it's a combination of all those feet passing by plus the angle his head's at, but this fella has a total "What, you wanna piece'a me?" thing going on that cannot be denied.

Engineers at the Advanced Weaponeering department of the Pentagon were unavailable for comment on recent rumors that unauthorized tests for the Nap-Ray were being conducted in the Mission last weekend, but it doesn't matter what they say, because I have the evidence right here.

An alternate theory under development by me is that this guy collapsed under the weight of his own despair at being prevented from tasting the salsa at Papalote* by his own physiology. Somebody told me once that dogs don't actually have a sense of taste like we do, that they can only distinguish "good" from "bad." Doesn't that seem like kind of a ripoff to you? Then again, we can't take naps in the middle of the damn sidewalk, either.

* He's right outside the door, just like the dude second from the top of this page. In the previous picture, you can see the wooden standy-thing they put outside when they're open.

Captured in front of Dog-Eared Books* on the corner of 20th and Valencia.

* Ha!**

** Think about it.

"Can you help me out with this thing here? She went inside for another book on how to put rhinestones and studs on things, and I'm kind of afraid of what she'll try to put them on next when she runs out of room on my collar."

The foot underneath him kind of spoils it, but otherwise, doesn't it look like this guy's sort of "ready for launch"? Like if you untied that leash, he'd somehow spring right up off the ground at maybe a thirty-degree angle with a plume of white-hot flame and smoke coming out the back of him?

Or is that just me?

Perhaps the perfect way to execute a bank robbery would be to somehow have dogs do it.

Observe: The two on the left are obviously waiting for someone to make a crucial mistake. The brown dude's the lookout. It's foolproof, I tell you.

I can't prove it, but I think the two standing dogs were wagging their tails in unison. How great is that?