I occasionally take pictures of other people’s dogs, with their permission. (taking furtive pictures in people’s back yards wasn’t working out) I try to get a little of their buddy’s backstory, if they’re of a mind. Yup, that’s what I do sometimes when I’m on a run or walk. I get made fun of because of my penchant for stooping to pet a dog (or cat) in the middle of a 10K run. Can’t help it.
Anyway, this fellow is a schnauzer, from the German word for ‘snout’, and colloquially ‘moustache’.
His name is the Ojibwe word for sun: GEESIS. His ‘beard’ has to be trimmed or it drags on the ground, his owner said. Holy cow, can I ever relate. Nothing slows you more!
I had a cocker spaniel (Harold) growing up, then a 57 varieties mutt (Laika, named after the cosmonaut dog) after that, purchased at an ugh mall, when I was about 12. Yup, my parents were not that particular.
Remember that scene in the classic movie Johnny Dangerously, with the main character, Michael Keaton, brandishing a price tag gun, and applying tags to the puppies in the pet store he was working in? It was not unlike THAT sort of set-up. Laika lived a good 12 years, and we loved him, though not his behaviour. He was, shall we say, recalcitrant and contrary, which is what you get when you get a dog from the bargain bin.