Patti Soldavini

Posts Tagged ‘beautiful dogs’

The Little Narcissist

In animals, dogs, humor, pets, weimaraners on 09/11/2014 at 10:46 pm

"ALL sides are my best side!"

“ALL sides are my best side!”

Yup. Olive’s very first selfie. It took her 10 minutes to strike just the right pose.


I Feel Pretty

In animals, dogs, humor, pets, weimaraners on 06/15/2014 at 7:32 pm

"What we've got here is a failure to communicate."

“I feel pretty, oh so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and bright.”

Olive is now four years old and not a day goes by where a stranger doesn’t say, “She’s beautiful.” “I love the color of her coat.” And, “Her ears are so soft.” My replies are by now part of my standard Olive repertoire. “She knows it.” “It’s more taupe than grey.” “Like The Velveteen Rabbit.” And Olive stands there inquisitively sniffing the stranger’s clothes, jamming her nose into their netherbits and offering herself up for some extreme fondling. This breed simply adores people. And I’ve fallen in love, not just with Olive, but with the breed as well.

Natural Beauty

In animals, dogs, humor, pets, weimaraners on 05/25/2013 at 10:50 am

"How's this pose?"

“How’s this pose?”

“I am cute, aren’t I? Patti took this when I was about three months old. She was trying to take the picture and I was waiting for the biscuit to drop from her hand. We both got what we wanted.”

Sexy Weimaraner

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 07/05/2012 at 7:08 pm

No. Words. Needed.

Spot The Weimaraner

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 12/21/2011 at 7:55 pm

"Are we DONE yet?"

This is what a weimaraner looks like in suspended animation. Can’t you just tell from the look on Olive’s face that she’s humoring me? ‘FOR GOD’S SAKE, DO YOU HAVE TO TAKE MORE PICTURES OF ME?” “ACTUALLY, I DO,” I reply, “BECAUSE THERE IS AN INSATIABLE NEED FOR NEW PHOTOS FOR YOUR BLOG.” As I command Olive to stay, I can feel every fiber in her body on tensile alert with the aching desire to RUN, RUN, RUN. But she sits obediently, waiting for me to release her from this excruciatingly dull three minute session. You would think I had asked her to empty the dishwasher. When Olive wants to hide from me, she runs downstairs into the finished basement. In the dark. And stands there half-hiding like an 8-year old playing tag with her friends in the backyard on a hot summer night. She waits for me, the giant silhouette at the top of the stairs, to approach her so she can zoom past me and thunder up the steps in a show of both bravado and joy. If at this moment she could speak, I am confident that she would squeal “NAH, NAH, NAH, NAH, NAH.” This time, I am somehow quick enough to catch her near the cheap cotton drapes downstairs. “OLIVE, SIT. NOW LOOK AT ME.” She hates looking at me when “she’s lost” the chase, but eventually she does it. I guess she figures that the quicker she complies, the faster she can initiate another chase. Eventually, she does thunder up the stairs past me and stands perched at the top of the landing like a Valkyrian victor. Her look of triumph is made somewhat less serious by the appearance of her ears, which are both flipped back, exposing their pink labyrinths and making her distinctly resemble a Townsend’s Big-Eared Bat.

%d bloggers like this: