I am unable to say much about it right now because I am so friggin sad.
The only thought that is keeping me from calling my counsellor and asking to move in with her is knowing Studley is with my Daddy.
My Daddy loved Studley, and Studley loved my Daddy, so I am comforted knowing they are together right now.
Dear 2012.
F-off.
Love Momma.
Anyways, to change the topic so this blog doesn't become a sad, sappy, bitch-fest, I will give you photos of things I love.
I was at my favourite place over the weekend and took approximately 146 pictures of random crap.
Why?
Because I can.
So there.
Studley was there too. It was also his favourite place. Even though he couldn't hold his bowels, could barely get up from the laying down position, was completely deaf, smelled like ass and barked at nothing, he still enjoyed those last few days at his favourite place.

Anyways, there I go with the sad crap again.
I also took pictures of trees.


Have you ever looked up when taking pictures?
I highly recommend it. You usually can find good photo material.
I took pictures of ducks because they come right up to shore looking for some bread. They know that if they pose for a picture, they get some bread.
I call it positive reinforcement, but some may call it animal bribery.
Whatever.

Have you ever captured a photo that you thought would be boring and deleted right away?
I did when I took this one, but now I kinda like it.

For some reason, dragonflies love the exact spot that I parked my bubble butt in my lawnchair. Hubby tried to capture intimate moments between the beauties, but I just wanted whatever I could get.
Which was this.
The intimate pics would have probably been better.......

I enjoy photographing crap shacks {aka outhouses}, almost as much as I love barns/fences/doors.
And this one tops the list because it is located at my favourite place.
Many members of my family used to use this to do their business, but now it just stands quietly beside a porta-potty.
I planned on taking some funny photos of me sitting on the toilet, but chickened out when I thought of what kind of critters are living inside.

I had visions of this.
No thanks.


14 comments:
I'm sorry about studley :-/ I'm glad he's with someone that loves him though! I would be a nutcase if my cooper wasn't with me anymore. He's my yellow lab.
Much love
Heather
I'm so sorry about your Studley. Kinda feels like he's all of our's too. Bless his little gray whiskers. Your Daddy will cuddle him forever...and not mind the stink...maybe his stink is gone? Never mind...no dog ever stinks in heaven. I'll miss him...
Sending lots of hugs. And wine.
Well a great big {HUG} from Canada I am so sorry for your loss.I know how hard this is. Your photos are incredible.
Take care. B
Studley looks like a loveable dog ~ He and your Dad are 'watching over you' now ~ wonderful photos ~ lots of hugs to you ~~ thanks, ^_^ (A Creative Harbor)
sorry about your pooch! Hope you feel up to better days soon
I hear you, our dog left in February. He was a GREAT dog. mmmmssufffmm.
I'm so sorry about your Studley. We lost our dog a few months after my Dad passed too. It was a rough year.
So sorry you lost your pup, I know how painful it can be. Hope his memories are a source of comfort.
I hope Studley and your dad are playing together right now. May they both rest in peace, and may you find some happiness soon.
Gosh, I'm so sorry about your friend. That does suck. No way around it.
Are we FB friends? I'll have to check.
Hope you are feeling better today and Thank you for sharing (the suckiness) at Rural Thursdays. xo
Aw, I am so sorry. :-(
Okay, enough of the life lessons for you. It's time for some good things to happen and for a smile to cross your face every day. Hang in there girl, it HAS to get better!
Oh Studley … we knew it was coming but still -- he was a lovely old (stinky) dog. I'm glad he had a happy few days in the end in his favorite place. I do find it comforting to think of my mom and dad together in heaven so I love to think of Studley running around with your dad and barking up a storm. Hugs.
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