I am not a photographer who takes still life subject matter. I understand the concepts of it and I love seeing it when done well by others. But for me, it’s too much fussing for the end result.
I had more thoughts on this several years ago when I took a macro photography class from Bryan Peterson. I spent all day wrestling with my subject matter, made a bunch of mistakes, and decided that it wasn’t for me (you can see the post here).
So in Week 3 of Kim Klassen’s class, A Month of Multiples, we had an assignment to shoot a still life. After enough procrastination, I decided on a different subject matter for my still life.
I offer for your laughter “Beagle as Still Life”. Nothing, but nothing, will interfere with his naps, except maybe the crinkle of a cheese wrapper or the rattle of his harness. His sleep is an essential part of his daily routine and when it’s nap time, all other life ceases. Some days, we even check to make sure he’s still breathing.
So here is my still life for the Week 3 assignment. As one of my blogging friends commented, it certainly was still!
Hello kind and gentle readers! It’s me, the beagle, reporting on what’s happening around the backyard. Mom and Dad took down the garden last year. They said it was too much work for what they got out of it. Plus there was a little problem with destruction. Apparently one of the dogs kept playing in it.
Waddya mean, get out of the garden?
I do NOT go in the garden! Ever.
What? I’m not doing anything!
Just chilling in my cave under the tomato plants
And when the tomatoes ripened, the mockingbirds and squirrels ate them up.
Dear kind and gentle readers – yes, it’s once again me, the beagle.
I’m really liking Mom being home during the day. Why? Because she’s taking me for a walk nearly every day. Oh such joy – I get to check pee mail! Poop on the neighbors lawns! And best of all, I’m finding all kinds of things to eat.
I go along, nose to the ground, when suddenly I get a whiff of something. The other day at the park, I took off into the woods, shuffling through leaves that were nearly halfway up my short little legs. Mom let the retractable leash out, not dreaming that I was on the scent of something yummy until I snatched up a stale bun. Whoa – did she ever reel me in. Worse yet, she dug it out of my mouth and told me I was a bad boy. Then she threw it back into the woods. I got the last laugh though. As we walked away, I turned around, snatched it back up and nearly got it down before she dug it out of my mouth again. ** sigh ** I was so close to eating it too.
I’m keeping a pretty good trot out there! Mom’s getting a brisk walk in and so am I. In fact, the other day she texted Dad that I was acting wild. So she walked me around the entire park. THE WHOLE PARK. I could barely make it back to the car! In fact, we were nearly there and I just ran out of mojo. She finally coaxed me back to the car and then – this is so embarrassing – she had to boost my butt up into the car because I was too tired to hop in.
For some reason, her and Dad found it incredibly funny when we get home. Just because I stood there in the hallway, swaying on my feet and trying to sleep while keeping an eye on Mom. Because I knew she was getting ready to take my brother, the Vizsla, out for his walk. How dare she? Those walks are for ME. NOT him. She left despite my vigilance and I made sure to howl and sob so she could hear me all the way out to the street. Yeah, until Dad yelled at me to stop. Hey! I’m entitled to ALL the walks! Who knows what I’m missing out there!?!?!
I slept the rest of the day. In fact, I might have been snoring. Dad complained about having trouble hearing the television, although more likely it was my brother. I’m sure it couldn’t have been me.
I got tricked!!! Yes, I got tricked. Wait until you hear what Mom and Dad did to me this time.
It started innocently enough. After the grand morning ritual of the giving of the treats, Mom let me back outside again. I was so happy! It was a nice day out and there were lots of little boys to bark at as they walked to the bus stop.
Then Mom comes around to the side gate, whispers my name, and rattles my harness. Oh wow, wow, wow. I’m going for a walk! Or to daycare! No, a walk! Check pee-mail! Joy, joy, joy. Can you tell how excited I was? And I was alone – no sharing Mom with any of my brothers. Little did I know that was by design, until it was too late.
So Mom let me out and I ran up and down the fence as fast as I could, but finally I was a good boy and let her put my harness on. Dad was waiting by the car and more wow!! Now, I’m going with Dad in the car. I just excited and excited and excited.
We got out of the car and I hop, skip and run in the building with Dad. Uh-oh. Brake time. This isn’t daycare! And sure isn’t a walk! Nooooooooooooooooooo. I’m at the vet!!!!!
Dad gave me to the torturers, who put me a cage. Eventually I was too sleepy to stay awake and the next thing I know, my mouth hurts and so does the back of my neck. Ewww! My teeth got cleaned and a lump on the back of my neck is gone now. Double icky! My neck got shaved and the stitches itch, but Mom and Dad won’t scratch it for me. At least I don’t have to wear a bozo collar.
I don’t care if it’s for my own good. I don’t care if the vet says it was good the lump was taken off while it was still small. Don’t care don’t care don’t care. I wanted a walk and I didn’t get one. In fact, I didn’t feel good when Dad put me back in the car. I didn’t throw up, but I think I walked into a wall. And the couch seemed to be a long way up from the ground.
So that was my big adventure. And let me tell you, it stunk. It was like getting a bath but worse. I mean, was that fair? Hellooooooo – a harness means a walk!! Don’t you people know that?
Mom was nice to me later (take note Dad – you could have given me more treats to make it up to me. A lot more treats. But did you? No.) She stroked my head, cooed at me and told me what a good boy it was. How could I resist melting in her hands? I love it when she uses that special tone of voice and looks in my eyes.
But dear readers – you can help me out. Yes, you. Am I not pitiful? And deserving of treats? So send treats. Lots of them. Oh, wait, Mom just said something to me. WHAT????? I’m too fat already? But I need treats! Uh-oh. Mom just said no. No – wait – don’t take the keyboard away – I promise to be good – no asking for treats.
Dad! Dad! Mom’s nuts! Let me out in the yard – now. Yes, now. Hurry up man and get that door open!
Gotta go! Be good and don’t get in trouble with Mom about treats.
[Note: The beagle finally has his own page. If you’d like to read more of his blog posts, check the tabs at the top or go to here.]
Dear Readers – I don’t understand why Mom calls me a tattle tale. Geez – all I’m doing is reporting the truth as I see it. And as we all know, I’m right.
So it started innocently enough. Mom grabbed the towel away, enticing my big brother to play. He loves playing tug with the towel and sometimes she is foolish enough to let him do it lets him do it.
So there’s a lot of jumping, tugging and growling (my big brother, not Mom). But was that good enough? NO! It wasn’t!
Mom starts chasing my brother, shaking the towel at him. He’d grab it, growl, and then she’d grab it back and start chasing him again.
Well, I couldn’t resist howling at the two of them. I mean, was this stupid or what! So I let them know my opinion.
So what happened? Mom turns around and mugs me. Yes, she mugs me! She said she was only playing, but I jumped sideways to get away from her. Then my brother gave me a noogie. Nuggie? Whatever. He rubbed the towel all over the top of my head.
Eeew! They assaulted me. And all I did was run wild circles around them, howling, and getting stepped on. Oh yeah, and Mom stepped on me too. Honestly, she needs to be more careful when I get in her face to howl some more.
And then she laughed at me! Oh wait, I’ve said that before, haven’t I? But it’s true! She laughed at me! And told me it was my fault!
Of course, she didn’t get any pictures of herself doing that. So she told asked Dad to redo the whole thing again.
Heh heh heh. I actually got the towel this time. I couldn’t believe it. I got the towel! I got the towel!
And got hip checked right off the couch. Oh the indignity of it! And of course, I let go of the towel. Two seconds and I lost it. Mom says I’m using too many exclamation points. Sheesh, what a crab. Oh, sorry Mom. I didn’t see you there. NO! NO! Don’t take the keyboard away. I’ll be good.
Hey – you guys got any treats? I need some, so send as many as you can. Uh-oh. Mom told me last time not to ask for treats. Well, that’s just too. . . whoops. Gotta go! Mom’s on a rampage!
Love ya! Send treats!
[Editor’s note: The beagle IS a tattletale despite what he thinks. His stories can be found at:
Dear Readers – Got any treats? (Never mind. Mom said that’s impolite).
Dear Kind and Gentle Readers – It’s the beagle here to share more of my life with you. If you have any treats, I’d love to have them now! (waddya mean I can’t ask for treats? Patti’s reading this – she’ll give me one! I bet Jaimie and Darlene will too!).
Okay, never mind, no treats (but I’ll always take one if you have one to offer – just don’t tell Mom).
So the other day I was in the yard, doing my grid search for new bunny trails, when I noticed that I was the only dog out there! Now that’s not a big deal, as my bigger brother would rather sleep on the couch than go outside and the little guy gets cold faster than I do.
But the big deal is that Mom stepped out there and it was just me and her. Yep, just the two of us. Well, who can resist getting some loving from her when there’s no competition? No bigger dog to hip check me out of the way and no little dog to run between my legs and get in front of me when Mom starts petting us. It was just me.
I marched right up to the deck. It was a little dicey as I didn’t follow my beagle trails, but I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity and risk someone coming back outside! So I minced my way back to the deck and put on my best good dog routine for Mom.
What do you think? Did I look like a good dog? Yes, I know the sun is in my eyes, but I was trying!
I got my loving (even got a treat), then went and took a nap. It’s hard work keeping the yard free of critters!
Beagle here. Mom recently shared a video tape of my Daddy playing ball with me. I could do that all night long! Of course, I need a break sometimes to catch my breath, but it’s tough work to chase that ball with my short legs.
Now I know this will embarrass Dad, but it was entirely his fault the ball got away. Yes, his fault (uh, Mom – does Dad read this? He does? Uh-oh).
So here I am with the ball. I don’t know why Dad’s trying to take it away from me. I’m not done killing it enough! I don’t understand why he doesn’t throw it fast enough for me either. Helllllllooooooooo Dad – I’m tired of the excuse that I won’t give it to you to throw. Just throw it, will you? But don’t take it away yet.
Okay, okay already – you can have it. Now will you throw it?
Hey – what just happened here? Dad let the ball get away! Can you believe him? He finally gets the ball and he lets it roll over the edge. Sheesh man – you couldn’t just hang onto it and throw it? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? (Oops. Sorry Dad. Didn’t mean that. You’ll still throw the ball for me, won’t you?)
I don’t know what he was thinking. He’s just sitting there looking at the ball, like he can’t believe I rolled it off the deck. And then he laughed at me! He laughed and told me – TOLD ME – it was all my fault. IT WAS NOT. (Mom said to stop the capitals if I ever expect to get a ball thrown again. Can you believe she’s such a crab?).
Well, there was only one way to fix Dad’s problem. I mean that problem. I mean the ball that was carelessly rolled off the edge. It was up to me to fix the problem and fix it I did.
I love it when Daddy throws the ball for me. I love it love it love it. But Dad – be more careful next time, will ya?
Hugs and kisses. Ick! No hugs. No kisses.
The Beagle. Please. Do NOT hug me or kiss me. Eeeeew!
[Editor’s note: The beagle has been quite the tattletale this year. More of his stories can be found at: