Autumn is here, my favourite season! The colours are muted but saturated, the weather still not too cold. Mists and mellow fruitfulness and all that. A good time to get out with the camera. This last week the Isle of Wight has been positively glowing and I’ve been having some fun with my tripod plus tilt and shift lens…
Dusk isn’t too late, so I can photograph The Needles and don’t miss out on dinner with the family, and dawn isn’t too early, so it’s not too hard to haul my botski out of bed and shoot the misty sunrise.
But what about the beach, the dog and the race…? Well, when the kids were young beaches were for sandcastles and paddling, but now we have a dog a beach is of course for races! Below is Charles puffing away whilst Rufus ambles past him. Rufus wins easily. And then me! a sprightly 42, giving the hound a run for his money. (Rufus still won…)
Ah, the inner child will out…
Dawn, dusk, beaches, racing. A cracking week on the Isle of Wight. Loved it.
I realised today that my dog is never going to win Crufts….., ever. But surely he would get a rosette at the local May Fair dog competition? This is a dog that makes a 10 min walk down the high street last an hour. He gets a lot of attention. He most definitely attracts the kids, and also the ladies (good doggie…). But put him in front of a judge – a dog judge – and his wilful side takes over. Here he is in today’s ‘dog/owner lookalike’ competition. He is not cooperating…
The next event was ‘dog with the waggiest tail’. At home, his wags so much he smashed 3 wine glasses already. Would he wag for the judge? No. Ramrod straight. Then it was ‘dog with the cutest eyes’. He turned his back on the judge and wouldn’t look at him AT ALL…!
Finally it was ‘dog the judges would most like to take home with them’. I was sure this was his moment. I mean, who wouldn’t?! I’m scared of leaving him for 10 seconds outside Tesco in case someone nicks him. Did the judges want to take him home? No way, not after he rolled over in the dirt, snuffled the other dogs’ behinds and tore around the hay bale staging like a demented mutt! I’d just brushed his coat beforehand so that he looked glossy… He wasn’t even shortlisted!!!
Clearly Rufus Peck is a non-conformist dog. Frankly I think he disgraced the family today by not playing ball… I may forgive him sometime in the future. In the meantime, he remains very much his own dog…:
A while ago I mentioned I was under some pressure, from the kids – and Mrs P…, to get a dawg. Indeed we had walked around the Lake District marking dogs out of 10 to decide which ones we liked best. And like the mutt I am, I succumbed. And lo! here he is. Rufus. The fifth Peck. And already, 3 weeks in, I can’t imagine life without him.
OK. I promise not to become a dog bore. Even worse than a baby bore… But blimey he is cute (of course) intelligent (of course), full of character (of course). Mmmm, I suspect I am not the first to think this of their dog… Mind you he is a bit dopey too – never seen anyone or anything eat so many twigs and sticks as he does. Completely bonkers! I shall let the pix do the talking….
Tomorrow a new life stage! Walkies!! How exciting!!! Rufus and I will soon be going on photographic trips together. I can’t wait, and neither can he (although maybe that’s me projecting…)