You know how my dog’s really damn cute, right? Of course you do.
Cindi and I were collectively browsing Craigslist’s various ads, partly for laughs and partly to see how I could make some quick cash if things got to desperate. There was an ad calling for:
"Specifically we are looking for a medium (sporting) breed dog (perhaps a Golden Retriever or Labrador Retriever?) and a small breed (perhaps a West Highland White Terrier or Yorkshire Terrier?) or similar medium and small breed dogs."
Now, I know Riley doesn’t really fit into any of these categories, but do you really think that was going to stop me from sending in this lovely picture of Riley and his cow I took a few months ago? Yeah, it didn’t. Why? Because it also said this:
Selected Dogs will have the “look” and must be beautiful with the happy “smiling” face as judged by me.
If my dog has one thing, besides some bizarre allergy, it’s the "look".
I got a call from the guy in charge of the photoshoot this morning letting me know that Riley had been picked as one of the seven finalists. And while I was right, he wasn’t the kind of dog that they were looking for, he was too cute to pass up. Funny. I seem to remember saying that same thing the first time I saw him as a tiny puppy, and now he’s busy covering up half my couch with his 80 pounds of dork.
On Saturday, we’ll be joining six other dogs that fit what they were looking for – dogs that have snouts that appear to be sniffing something. It’s so ironic how Riley’s life mirrors my own in so many ways. Like the not fitting in with the norm, and the scratching of our ears, and the licking of our paws. Wait, maybe not the last one for me.
This will be the third time my ‘tard of a dog has had professional-quality pictures taken, and the third time I haven’t paid a dime for some really fantastic pictures.