This is Baxter, a very nice Lab. He likes to play and chase his ball, but he’s abnormal once he moves.

Normal dogs keep their right front leg and their rear left leg on the ground and lift the other two to go forward. When they need to run, dogs switch to the two rear legs push and the two front legs lift. Basically, they propel themselves with two legs and use the other two legs to advance. It’s the same for all dogs, for all cats and horses. BUT, not for Baxter. Baxter is a ‘weirdo’! He always keeps three legs on the ground.

Toby is a black Labradooddle and he’s having a bad hair day. Not just people, but dogs can also have bad hair days. For him, it’s mostly on windy days. His hair flies everywhere and he looks scruffy. It’s not his best look, but he doesn’t care. But as a dog, wow, what a nice and very polite dog with excellent doggy manners.

This is Harley, she is not staring, she is assessing the situation. Harley is trying to figure out if I’m a potential friend or … She’s never seen that before. I was kneeling, with my right knee on the ground, just in front of her. Head tilted, ears pricked but still keeping a respectful and safe distance. It’s a doggy social skill they don’t teach in obedience classes. We, humans, always talk about body language, but dogs are the experts. It’s their primary way of communicating, and they’re incredibly observant.

This Weimaraner is attacking me. May be five metres/fifteen feet. He’s focused on me. He’s not attacking my dog, which is just behind me. He’s coming for me.

He came from the bushes at the back. No bark. Just a silent attack. I raised my camera, took a couple of shots, and then braced myself. I was ready. At the last possible second, a whistle from his owner, I guess, and he went back with his owner.

It’s quite rare to have dog’s direct gaze. He wasn’t just looking at me, it was “What do you want?”

She walked right up to me. Not to sniff my dog – who was busy sniffing around but to me. She completely ignored my dog and was totally focused on me. Me, as usual, I was kneeling, to be at her level. Dogs are the most observant animal, much better than humans. They read our body language, they pick up on any subtle move, almost like a psychic. I wonder what she was gazing at. The camera? My unusual posture – my knee on the ground? Or may be it was simple curiosity.

Doesn’t he look cute? I took this photo of Henry when he was just nine weeks old. Look at that face, so serious! You’d think that he was contemplating the mysteries of the universe. Nooo! In fact, he was observing and sizing up all the people around him. He’s planning his next pounce demanding that somebody plays with him.

French Bulldogs, aka Frenchies, have this incredible ability to look both comical and regal, often within the same five seconds. They’re little clowns, but with a definite air of self-importance. Henry, even then, had it in spades.

“Very, very quiet,” she said, mimicking Elmer Fudd when he’s chasing Bugs Bunny in the Loony Tunes. And honestly, after watching Trombone, the Corgi, I understood.

Trombone never barks. Sometimes a little whimper especially when get his biscuit. But mostly? Silence. His owner, Sarah, plays the trombone. Sometimes, when he’s stretching or yawning, he makes noises that almost sound like a trombone.

“The camera cannot lie.” This expression started in the late 19th century when portrait photographers were trying to edge out the painters.

Take this photo of a dog flying. We all know that dogs cannot fly, but they can fly through the air just like in this photo.

Dog walks. I’m not talking about the quick five-minute around the block, but about the real dog walks. The dog walks with the rhythm, the connection, and the shared purpose. The walk is the basic interface of the relationship between them, the dogs, and us, the humans. The bonding happens during the dog walk.

I saw that woman, the other day, who really nailed it. She was walking two chocolate Labs, and it was a sight (no sarcasm here).

Let me introduce you to Duffus. That’s his name. According to Kim, Duffus is mostly a Maltese with some Chihuahua. I don’t see the Chihuahua. But what I see is a very confident dog who own his space.

According to the Urban Dictionary, Duffus is the short for “dumbfucks” from the Pig Latin ‘dummass frickinious idiotus’, and that suits him very well.

Duffus refers to someone (or a dog) who is extraordinarily dumb, as exhibited by extraordinarily bad choices.