Smiling and Not Smiling

Our dog Ellie sits with her mouth closed in fallen leaves beside a tree near the dog park of Irving Park in Portland, Oregon in November 2011

With her mouth closed Ellie’s drooping jowls made her look sad and/or bored. In truth she was a bit bored on this occasion in the fall of 2011 and it’s why I didn’t take a ton of pictures of her on our walks even though I often took quick snapshots of the neighborhood itself. She loved going on walks with me and photos were an interruption in our fun time together, she couldn’t know I was capturing those fun times so I could look back and remember. My trick was to wait until she saw someone walking close or another dog approaching and she opened her mouth, for then the mix of sweetness and happiness that was our Ellie was on full display. These two pictures were taken less than a minute apart.

Our dog Ellie sits with her mouth open in fallen leaves beside a tree near the dog park of Irving Park in Portland, Oregon in November 2011

Merry Christmas!

Our dog Ellie looks back towards the house as the snow falls in our yard in the Irvington neighborhood of Portland, Oregon in February 2018

Uncertainty was the word of the day when I took this picture in February 2018. I was leaving the next morning for my interview in Arizona. Ellie’s health had faltered a bit and I silently worried her time was drawing to an end. Thankfully the snow didn’t keep me from getting to the airport and I got the job that brought us here. Best of all the pup bounced back and we got more than a year with her before age took its final toll. She gave me enough joy to last a lifetime, this pup, my hope is that joy finds you too not just this Christmas but in the years to come.

Calm in the Storm

Our dog Ellie basks in the sunshine with her head raised up next to the dragon statue on the playground at Irvington School in the Irvington neighborhood of Portland, Oregon in December 2017

Ellie basks in the warmth of the rare winter sun in Oregon, taken in December 2017 at her turnaround point that morning, the dragon statue at Irvington School. My team had been laid off a month earlier, and though that threw us into a period of uncertainty and stress that at times it feels like I haven’t fully recovered from, I so loved getting to walk her every morning that I sometimes have to catch myself from remembering this period overly fondly. We always started our walks at the nearby dog park but after that I let her choose her path and thankfully since I started saving the GPS tracks of every walk that fall, I can look back now at the routes she chose, depending on what she smelled with that amazing nose and what her body felt capable of that day.

Running in the Dog Park

Our dog Ellie runs towards me with a tennis ball in her mouth, surrounded by fallen leaves and with a playground behind her, at the dog park at Irving Park in Portland, Oregon in November 2011

Ellie and I playing catch with a tennis ball at the dog park at Irving Park in the fall of 2011. She couldn’t go off-leash when we adopted her in 2009 but with a desire to please and a desire for treats she was pretty easy to train and soon enough was able to zoom around the park.

Fall in Irving Park

Our black lab Ellie sits in the leaves in front of trees colored purple, yellow, and green at the dog park in Irving Park in Portland, Oregon in November 2011

I love this picture of Ellie in the leaves at Irving Park, taken in the fall of 2011, but I don’t think I’ve put it online before. Usually it’s because I get so far behind in my editing, sometimes it’s because I’ll write the post in my mind when I’m away from my computer and then forget to actually post it. I’m thankful for our time in Portland for a great many reasons, but walking through our Irvington neighborhood with my sweet pup will always be one of my most treasured memories.

Fall Ballgame

Fall Ballgame

Ellie waits for me to kick the ball in the fall of 2013. We spent countless hours playing in our backyard in Portland, either with one of her balls or one of her many hedgehogs. I’d either throw or kick them and she’d chase them down and bring them back and toss them at my feet. Over and over and over. She had a big black spot on her tongue, when her tongue was hanging out far enough to clearly see it I knew she was getting pretty gassed and it was time to call it quits. I think she would have kept playing until her legs fell off.