Monday, February 21, 2005

Dogs 149-152

I know it looks like the opposite, but the one on the left is actually the one who's tied up. The other one's just kind of rooting around under that bench, free as a bird. I think he's there just to taunt the tied-up one.

The mother of all standoffs. What I need you to imagine here is the pre-duel music from some old, forgotten Western where everybody ends up dead at the end and no one has learned their lesson.

With the colors this dude has on, he almost blends in with the stuff to his left. Look at the tip of his tail! Isn't that great? I wonder if he's part border collie or something.

This is the look of a dog who isn't exactly sure his owner will ever come out of that organic grocery store or whatever-it-is, you know what I'm talking about -- the place on Valencia near Herbivore where I always see homeless-looking Rasta white kids who are maybe trying to figure out how to weave useful fabric out of thrown-out banana peels and their own stringy hair.

Isn't this an interesting stance? He looks like he's trying to hold the sidewalk down with his front paws, as though if he let up for an instant, the section of concrete directly beneath them would shoot ninety feet into the sky atop a geyser of water vapor. He's not going to let that happen, DAMMIT.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

Dogs 144-148

I feel like I may have seen this guy before -- my hunch is he's Dog #88 -- but you know what? That's OK. Because maybe the fact that he's out at night means he or his owner are patrolling the streets of the Mission, making it safe.

I think I've found the real-life model for what's-his-name -- Droopy Dog? Dawg? Who remembers who I'm talking about? I mean, it's not an exact match -- I don't see any jowls -- but it's all in the eyes, people.

One possible reason some people like to own bulldogs could be that maybe they think they've got a little miniature Predator on their hands, except this one won't turn invisible and try to make a trophy out of their spinal column. Probably.

The one on the left doesn't appear to be tied to anything; I will bet you a hot tasty sandwich of your choice that he's lying there like that just because the other one is, and he didn't want his pal to feel left out.

Parking lot at the Albertson's on 32nd and Clement. He just stood there with that look on his face while I snapped this picture. I. I don't know. Why do I feel like I did something wrong in a past life and he knows all about it?