It’s Catordog!

Hey, it’s Talulah and her new pal Ryan. Ryan and Talulah both assisted on the shoot yesterday and we picked up this cool series of images after we wrapped.

 

 

 

It’s Wednesdog!

 

Okay, it might be late, but today’s Wednesdog is brought to you by a super wonky picture of Talulah.

But as you can see, it was well worth the wait and the wonkiness. What a cute freaking pup.

That’s not lipstick making her mouth red, but I know it makes you want to kiss her.

I hope you had a gorgeous Wednesdog and you humped somebody or something at some point today.

 

 

 

Talulah understand trajectory better than you

Talulah is a gifted little canine.

There’s a wall bordering where we take her out to throw the ball. Talulah’s favorite game is when I throw the ball — using a Chuck-It! — at an angle against the wall.

She is able to assess the trajectory and speed very quickly, and determine the necessary speed and direction she needs to run in order to intercept and catch the ball.

Often, her catch is more of a snatch than a catch. She grabs the ball out of the air as it enters from the side and compensates for the speed with a head jerk.

It’s really quite phenomenal.

When I throw the ball at the wall, you can see the steam exiting her ears as her mind works to do that math.

Now, I know she’s not doing math. But it’s doggie math. It’s athleticism. Let’s call it, mathleticism.

If you’ve seen her do it, which many of you have seen, you know that it’s somewhat astonishing to witness. She’s no walking-on-water Yeshua, namely because she does her miracles in real life. Her abilities require little to absolutely no faith.

Honk.

Of course, my little noggin starts working through how to integrate this mathleticism into a blog post.

I want to work this talent into a post about how Talulah understand trajectory better than people who support — say — conservative values. She understands how to achieve her goals better than any conservative I’ve ever met. Talulah knows that she can’t follow the ball outright. She has to meet the ball at the place where it’s going to be.

A dog just learning this trick tends to run straight after the ball. Straight thinking is the literal definition of Orthodoxy. Conservatives LOVE straight thinking.

Here’s a conservative thought process:

We have a menu. Let’s stick to that menu … we need to stick to the plan. Don’t veer from it. It says here that slavery is okay. But civil rights cannot include that. We must drag our feet. Oh yeah, you’re right. Slavery is not okay. Even though our menu says it’s okay. It’s not. Now let’s concentrate on homosexuality …

See. Conservatives follow the ball.

Liberals check the trajectory and speed. They meet the ball where it’s going to land.

And just like when an obstacle or notch in the wall redirects Talulah’s ball forcing her to redirect her plan of attack, liberals are able to work with lame-ass, orthodox conservatives when they force the ball in different directions.

Then again, Talulah understands trajectory way better than you.

It’s Wednesdog!

This week’s Wednesdog is brought to you by Talulah (surprise, surprise).

 

Talulah thoroughly enjoyed our recent travels to Carbondale and Michigan.

While we were in Michigan for that one weekend, we left Talulah with our house guest and all our new friends we made that weekend. Talulah absolutely LOVED her time playing on the beach with seven people who thought she was the bee’s knees.

When Tina I returned on Saturday night and resumed beach fun on Sunday, Talulah has what we call a “puppy hangover.” But Talulah’s a child, and she’ll work herself up to try and keep up with chasing the ball and following everyone around.

So enjoy these couple shots of Lu dog getting her beach on.

 

Hey, hottie, how do you like my socks?

Earlier this week, I took Talulah out back to play Chuck-It!, which is Talulah’s favorite fetch game of all time.

It was scheduled to be a hot-ass day, and I was determined during the hottest days that I would take T out twice a day in two shorter spurts. The heat saps Talulah’s energy faster, but yet she has more energy later in the day if I don’t.

This was our second outing.

I grabbed Talulah’s leash, the ball, the Chuck-it and poop bags. “I’m taking Talulah out again,” I yelled to Tina as I left. Our play area is just past the alley behind our place. It’s a perfect strip of grass for  throwing the ball.

As we go out, I make Talulah sit while we cross the alley to make sure no cars are coming.

Off in the distance, I noticed a blonde woman walking her dog on the leash. She was close enough that by the time I got to the top of the hill, if I threw the ball, it might be awkward, since some people aren’t thrilled to see a pit bull off leash.

So I made Talulah lie down, and wait for her to pass.

The closer she got, the cuter this stranger became. She was wearing a sun dress with reds and blues. It was beautiful flowery print. She was wearing black leggings that were visible just under the bottom hem of the dress. On her right arm was a bird tattoo. Her nose was pierced, and her eyes were piercing blue.

“May we say hello?” she called out. It took me by surprise. Usually the most people say is hello.

“Of course.” I said. “Although she gets a little OCD about her ball. So she might not …” At that point, Talulah got up and gave this other dog a good sniff or two.

Referring to her dog, the stranger said, “She gets a little aggressive on her leash. I noticed that your dog was calm, and it would be a good training opportunity.”

Within our staggered, cumbersome conversation, I noticed the size of her chest. Her boobs were bigger, but pulled together by some kind of tube top perhaps. They bounced with every step.

We had one of those moments when her leash tangled around my legs. I noticed the freckles on her face.

Beautiful women make me nervous, and this was no exception.

(You should see me bumble around Tina).

At some point I admitted that Talulah was also aggressive on her leash. “I think it’s a leash thing. Off leash, she’s so much better.”

The blonde nodded. I noticed her size me up a little, too (maybe?).

“Did she notice my wedding ring? I hope my hair isn’t too big right now,” I thought.

Meanwhile, I noticed more art on her neck and shoulder. I could have fanned myself.

Our interaction lasted all of 30 seconds. And off she walked down the trail. I watched her go. I couldn’t help it. Evolution gifted me with a libido-laden voyeurism that is difficult to ignore.

When she was 20 feet away, I threw Talulah’s ball the other direction. I turned back to watch a little longer.

“Whoa,” I said out loud. “So flipping cute.”

Talulah came back with the ball. It squishes and squeaks in her teeth as she munches on it before laying it back down in front of me.

I was thinking of all the things I wanted to say, like, “Gosh, you have a really cool look,” and “Don’t take this as a come on, but you are so hot” just before doing a Chuck Jones cartoon character eye-ball, ooga ooga routine.

Looking down at the ball that Talulah dropped, I caught a glimpse of myself. I was wearing a ratty, old yellow shirt with the graphics all coming off. I had on brown pants that were stained from cooking. I was wearing those soccer flip flops with mismatched blue and black socks.

And to top it off, we inherited a leash from Talulah’s daycare that is fucking purple with a bright pink poop bag holder attached to the end. I was wearing this sweet, purple leash around my chest, like a Mexican drug lord wears his ammo holster.

It was at that very moment when I thought, “No, she wasn’t looking at my wedding ring.”

It’s Wednesdog!

Well, hump a day of the week … it’s Wednesdog!

This week is brought to you by my neighbor’s brand, spanking new Great Dane named Cash. My neighbor just got back from a 6,000 (total) mile drive out to Idaho to pick Cash up and whisk him back to Chicago where he’s going to cuddle with her till the cows come home.

Cash is just 9 weeks old and weighs in at about 30 lbs. You can see below that he’s already gaining up on Talulah’s height.

You’d barely believe that little cash is still wobbly on his feet and has trouble navigating the stairs without looking like he’s going to tumble to the ground.

These photos aren’t fantastic. They were shot on my phone. But we’re working on scheduling Cash in the studio soon.

I hope he still has those blue eyes, because we’re going to make those things sparkle! And those paws! They are gigantic.

Happy Hump Day to you. Make sure you find something, a pillow, a doll, a pie, to hump before this day gets away from you.

Honk!

Phew, they’re gone … now we can run around in our underpants again!

Our visit with Luis V. and Becky F. over the weekend came to a close on Sunday. We had an excellent time, and despite the heat, we were able to pack in some solid sightseeing.

You can read about the first couple days here.

On Saturday, Becky asked if we wouldn’t mind driving out to Oak Park to hunt for some rascally Frank Lloyd Wright homes. It ended up being easier and more fun than I thought.

Wright homes are gorgeous and inspiring to look at. Becky found a sweet iPhone app that helped map and identify the homes. It also gave similar descriptions to ones you might hear if you paid for the tour.

On our way to Oak Park, we drove through some of the roughest looking neighborhoods I’ve seen.

At one point I said, “I’ll let everyone know when you have to duck from gun fire.”

It was shadyland.

Becky’s and Luis’s hanging meal — if you will — was dining at a restaurant called The Pump Room located in the Public hotel of Chicago’s uppity Gold Coast. The restaurant and hotel were recently renovated under the creative eye of Interior Designer Ian Schrager, whom Tina and I recently heard speak at one of our jobs.

Schrager is known for many accomplishments, but Studio 54 is one of the most impressive.

Note: hanging meals are what Tina and I call the meal before leaving each other for a while. While other people believe heaven is supernatural, we believe heaven is together. So while we’re apart, it’s hell. Time apart is a metaphor for an execution of sorts. So the hanging meal is the last major meal before temporary separation. It also applies to good friends.

After dinner, we unbuttoned our top pants buttons or loosened our dress straps, drove back to our place, leashed up Talulah and walked to the lake front, where Talulah desperately wanted to go for a dip in the water.

Should she have escaped my white-knuckled grip on the leash, I would have gladly pushed Luis in after her.

Honk.

We got back to the house, talked till the Great Yawn Coup d’état of July 7, 2012 and called it a night.

Sunday, we sent the New Yorkers packing, said our adieus and cried the rest of the day.

Not really.

Great visit and memories made. Now that’s a way to spend a weekend.

 

 

Sometimes I wish Talulah would act like a dog

Tina and I are those people … those pet people.

When we go grocery shopping, we wear our matching t-shirts with Talulah’s dear face screen printed on them.

Or when we go to Target, we wear our matching Zoe hats.

While other parents tell nauseatingly endless stories about their kids and laugh, we tell Talulah stories and laugh. We go out of our way to make sure you’ve reached the end of your rope. And then we tell you another story just to seal the deal. When you’re back in the privacy of your home, you say, “Gosh, Jeremy and Tina are nice and all, but freaking let up on the Talulah stories! I mean, I didn’t get to finish my story about little Johnny picking his nose and then eating the booger!”

And then we email you a picture of Talulah sniffing her butt.

Talulah is like a child to us, though. Just like other parents, we leave our child alone for hours at a time. Talulah isn’t allowed on the furniture unless she’s invited, and if we come home and notice the couch pillows are awry, we point at the couch and say, “Ta-lu-lah … What is this? Talulah? Wha…”

And Talulah lowers her head with shame, cowers into a ball, and faces the other way. She often army crawls out of the room.

Or at night, we tell her to go to bed, which is a large dog pillow just beside my side of the bed.

Everyone has snuggled down, and the lights go off. And then we hear Talulah stir. Usually that means she wants to get up in bed. To which we say, “Talulah, go lay down. Go to bed.” But sometimes she gets up to retrieve her Alligator squeezy squeaky toy that we call Talulah’s baby.

She finds it where ever it is in the house, brings it back to bed and cuddles with it.

See, Talulah is sooooo cute, don’t you think?

Talulah’s new bag

I know, I know, I haven’t updated you with how amazing Talulah is taking on new tricks. Well, here’s your update, so you can SHUT UP!

One great trick that Tina taught her is “High Five.” When we throw the ball for her to fetch, you say, “High five!” when she’s on her way back, and she runs close to you and let’s you stroke her coat as she runs past. I swear to you this is a trick. Otherwise, she will not run close to you.

We also have her catching balls in the air. She’s getting really good at it. I threw a ball much higher than the train tracks yesterday, and she caught it no problem. Other times, she’ll let it bounce.

And thirdly, her new trick is jumping through a hoolahoop. We thought this would be a piece of cake, but Talulah was afraid of the hoolahoop at first. We’ve had to get her more and more accustomed to it, and finally, she is doing this:

.

She still has work to do, but it’s a far cry from where she was last week.

She’s our smart little chicken.

Lou dog and her mug shots

I did some shots with Lou dog today. She told me to share them here. I swear that’s what she said.