I said I'd announce it when the deadline approacheth, and here we go.
With 130 submissions so far—not as many as I thought we'd get but more than we usually get—I think I'll accept Johnny- and Jenny-come-lately submissions through Monday for our "Dogs" Baker's Dozen. I have absolutely loved seeing all the incoming submissions. I love dogs—I often joke that I knew I was growing old because, when I'd pass a beautiful woman walking a dog on the sidewalk, I'd check out the dog. I met a lovely little Dachshund mix named Winnie yesterday at the vet's. I've sometimes entertained the thought that when photographers love a subject too much, they lose a little bit of their objectivity about pictures of that subject—they're so into the subject that they're not picky. I've encountered this a number of times in specific individuals, with a variety of much-loved subjects. Still and all, it's been a pleasure to see everyone's dogs, hear the stories (some of them sad, of course, because no pets except parrots last long enough), and be wowed by your favorites.
I can almost guarantee that many people are going to be amazed that their wonderful picture didn't made the final 13. Remember, as always, that it's not entirely the photograph, it's how it fits into and fills out the set. Often with these "contests that aren't contests" I could actually fill two or three sets of 13 without diluting the quality. But speaking of that, I might "cheat" a little bit in this case and carve out a few posts of three pictures each that embody some quality or characteristic in common. I've done that before.
As for my own dear dog, well, the news is not so good. Butters has lost five pounds since the last weigh-in a handful of weeks ago. When a friend arrived yesterday morning he bounded down the five front steps to greet her, as usual, and crashed-landed at the bottom, limbs akimbo, unable to hold himself up. More of his behaviors are changing, his energy is diminished, and his confusion seems to be increasing—the vet thinks he's showing signs of dementia and worsening eyesight. At his appointment yesterday she introduced the phrase "quality of life" and the idea that we should hope he survives the summer. I guess she wants me to let go of the idea that I might have him for two more years. Saddest of all is that his perpetually wagging or waving tail has been stilled. Butters has always been a tail-wagger, from the fateful moment I met him at HAWS, the Human Animal Welfare Shelter back in Waukesha. On the good side, I'm rising to the challenges—dutifully stuffing pills into segments of all-beef franks, getting used to the new schedule of nighttime awakenings, spending lots of time with him, appreciating the precious minutes.
In the circumstances, your pictures have been an especially welcome pleasure for me. I realize not everyone likes dogs, but those of you who do are going to enjoy this Baker's Dozen once it's done.
So, then, it's end of Monday for our deadline. If you haven't submitted yet, please consider it! The post with the instructions is here.
Mike
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