Me and Baby Bunting did a little photo shoot in the studio last week. I had just discovered how to shoot with the camera tethered to the computer so the picture flashed straight up on the screen. Bad move. Baby just kept running over to the computer to look at her photos as they appeared.
Once the went back to the old fashioned way of doing it we got a much better, albeit short as she has the attention span of your average gnat, photo shoot. I put that down to the fact that she is ultra intelligent and likes to investigate everything.
She took a liking to the broom and decided to have a good old sweep up in the studio. Apart from the worry of keeping her from careering straight into cables and light stands, it made for a nice, relaxed shoot with a difference.
Heheeheee, bless her, she had such a lot of fun. It’s amazing how you only have that ten minute slot to get the photos, they go from cute and lovely to bored and fractious in no time. It’s a good job I work fast!
This next photo is one I took last summer, I came across it in the acrchives when I was doing another job.
Keeping with the red theme, and back in the studio. We had a little fashion show:
You might recognise that hat, it’s the one the dog was wearing the other week. Seems to be becoming a popular prop.
While we are on the subject of the dog. I went to pick her up last night to go to our training class. The lead was handed over to me with the words. “She’s coming into season, just watch her with the other dogs.” Ooo-er.
Walking into the class I thought that the best course of action would be to nonchalantly waft her past a few of the dogs and see if there was a reaction. Only Harvey, the little West Highland Terrier showed any kind of interest and to be honest he’d shag anything. He wouldn’t have been able to reach the appropriate bits anyway but it could have been a good laugh watching him try.
All the other dogs, including the huuuuge Weimaraner, thank God, all steadfastly ignored her, allowing us to get on with the class and not have to go and sit in the car which was being pounded relentlessly by the howling gales we had last night.
The class itself passed by uneventfully enough, Mrs Woofy was as normal, the teacher’s pet. Except, that is, when she forgot the ‘sit’ command. She looked at me from the ground where she was sprawled out, in total bemusement wehn I asked her to sit. I could tell by her face she didn’t understand what I was saying.
That was after she’d just completed the most complicated sendaway exercise ever. I put it down to her being hormonal. Either that or she was thinking, ‘Don’t insult me with your trivial commands, I’ve just shown you what I can do now pi55 off.’ Like I said, hormonal.