You wanted the best, you got the BEST! MABEL!

So those of you that dabble in my life know that there is one dog that brings me much joy without having to do too much. And that's good for her because she's prone to not doing much at all. But that's ok, because my Mabel long ago learned that food and shelter would come to her no matter what.

Now, two things need to be said about Mabel. First, she is a wimp. An absolute wuss. Scared of everything. So taking pictures of her for this blog proved rather hard. Because of this, the shot I was able to take is not head on. That's ok. The point is made I think. You just don't get to see her sweet face.

Second, my family and I have done a horrible job training Mabel. She's a beggar. Through and through.

The dog: Mabel

The food: I really don't know. Probably something that my mom sprinkled flax seed on and tried to convince me was good.

The place: My parents' living room

The synopsis: Honestly, my favorite thing about this photo is how well my mom matches her surroundings. Kinda like that scene in Garden State where Zach Braff matches the wallpaper. Momma gotta coooooordinate.

A lesson in perspective...

So take a look at Foxy, a dog belonging to a coworker of Amy in CA. Foxy is, from what I've heard, a regular sized dog. If Foxy was as big as this pictures purports him to be I'm sure I would have heard about him via a large news outlet (a la Einstein, the pint-sized pony). But, like Picasso skewed our points of view or like Escher exploited our architecturally imposed restraints, Foxy and his owner are challenging our notions of a regular sized dog. A few possibilities:

a) Foxy is two inches tall

b) Foxy's owner is 8 feet tall

c) There exists a tear in the fabric of space in this living room

You decide. I haven't even begun to discuss the food elements of this photo yet!

The dog: Foxy

The food: Pupcorn (HA!)

The place: Sunny California, where nothing is what it seems

The synopsis: I think there are snakes in the world that can eat horses, so I guess it's possible for a dog of this size to eat a kernal of pupcorn that is as big as the dog itself. I'll go with Possibility A.

The Flying Dutchie comes home...To doughnuts!

I recently had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Dutch, an energetic dog from Baltimore whose love of finding mice is matched only by his love of being picked up and spun (Ed. note: Dutch was not able to confirm the latter verbally, though he seemed blissfully resigned to said activity).

The pic was submitted by Lady Giplin and it certainly does look like it was submitted by someone with an MFA! What composition!

The dog: Dutch(ie)

The food: A Wawa Doughnut

The place: The Gilpin/Martin household

The synopsis: I think this is the first one wherein the food pictured is highly appetizing to me, too. Actually, Dutch is pretty funny. I noted during my time with him that he only wanted pistachios until the nut was actually gone--he knew to avoid the shell. But they're so salty, I thought. If I was a dog I would probably chew on the shells thinking that there's GOT to be food in here. But maybe that's why I'm not a dog. Also, my parents weren't dogs.

I have no connection to this dog, yet I empathize so fiercely

So my friend Val Pal sent me a rather remarkable set of doggie pictures that her co-worker's mom made into a calendar. THEN, to further convolute this matter, she sent me photos that didn't make the final doggie calendar cut. But it is in this convolution that this gem was uncovered. Everyone, say hello to Byte. Byte the dog. HA! I can see how saying that out loud would be funny.

Anyways, I've never been a fan of set up doggie shots (Ed. note: LIAR!) but this one is pretty cute.

The dog: Byte

The food: In what is quickly becoming this blog's go-to protein, turkey.

The place: A somewhat well-lit room

The synopsis: Byte. Sorry brother. You asked for this fate being so patient and malleable. Go ahead. Grab a leg. I won't tell. You're needed at the next location in five wearing a Santa beard.