Day 30 - My Boy Bluez

picture in picture

As you may have surmised, today was a bad photo day.   I had a really busy day at work, I spent my lunch time picking one of my team up from hospital, and it was 6.15 and fully dark when I got home, with a handful of pressing chores to attend to...feed and walk the dog, clean out and relight the fire...and of course, my blog.

So I was a little strapped for a subject, and felt reluctant to do anything too contrived, but had neither time nor light to go looking for something exciting. 

Bluez was on my mind, as he often is, and I realised that my eye is often drawn to this picture of him.

After he died, I happened to discover that you can take a jpeg on a memory stick into Boots and get a full size print straight away.  So I got this one printed, popped into the pound shop and bought this frame for £3.50 (wait, what?!), put the photo in it, and it now sits up on the shelves facing where I sit.

Some days I have to consciously avoid it, as it tugs on my heart-strings...but it so captures his essence that I feel as though I'm actually looking at him.   Suffice to say, I talk to him often.    I do find this photo immensely comforting, as though through it I'm maintaining some small contact with him.

Don't get me wrong, he wasn't the perfect dog.   He could whine for hours, but utterly fail to communicate what he was whining about.  He could be a real scrounger of food.  He could bark incessantly at the night when the mood took him.  And he was a master at the convenient application of selective hearing.

He could become afraid of the most random things, like a suspicious haystack that appears in the field, or a plastic bag stuck in the hedgerow, or a passing hot air balloon. 

But he was also brilliant...warm and affectionate...yampi as a loon...gentle as a lamb...

He was self appointed guardian of the borders, and the rest of the pack all enjoyed the safety they found in his guardianship.

And he was so handsome, both the inner and the outer Bluez.  

(Reminds me of the old Groucho Marx line; Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend.  Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read...")

It's no exaggeration to say that Bluez had an uncommon grace and elegance about him.  He was light on his feet and fluid in his motion, and he made everything seem effortless.  

He was a beautiful dog, a faithful companion, a best friend, and I loved him completely. 

So anyway, accuse me of cheating for using a picture of a picture, if you will...but good god-damn it if Bluez isn't getting a headline post of his own in this series of blogs! 

If you think I'm going overboard, well maybe I am...sue me...or maybe, ya know, just get over yourself and forgive me!

:-)