Diesel the Wonder Dog

Though I know many of you will be insulted by this statement, I have to admit: I am not a dog person. This should be obvious merely from the number of cat photos published on this blog. Now, this is not to say I'm a dog hater. Far be that from the truth. Towards most dogs, I practice a friendly ambivalence, a cordial respect and regard. I recognize that dogs have their needs, and also that I have mine, and I expect the dog to recognize this, too.

Most dogs, I've found, are good dogs. A few are bad dogs, and fewer (in my experience) are great dogs. I'd be hard pressed to tell you exactly what attributes are required for a dog to be great, but I know it when I see it. There's never a dog that starts out as good and earns its way to greatness. Great dogs are born, not made.

Knowing what a hard-ass I am about dogs, and also knowing that we have a good (not great) dog named Diesel, you must be able to anticipate how hard Diesel strives for my affection. He tries. He tries very, very hard. My love and affection is to Diesel a golden horizon, a promise he works towards with undying vigor, day after day. There's just no way to tell the poor guy that cordial respect and regard is the best he's going to get from me.

I'm one cold-hearted woman, aren't I?

Anyway, this is a tribute to Diesel: the loyal, courageous, enthusiastic and very much overlooked Boston terrier with whom we share our house. Who can walk a log bridge like no one's business.

Bluets.

Foamflower

Miterwort.