Raspberries and Sincerity

Lately something has been giving me the impression that Duncan occasionally like to mess with me. On our walk today we'd just reached the top of the park, which overlooks the lake and the amphitheater, and where Mark let me fly his kite earlier this Spring, and we were able to look up at the thick clouds which were slowly moving down the mountains and only just beginning to swallow the green foothills. Duncan looked magnificent, his coat so red against the green and heavy movement of the gray sky, the wind only just tugging at his ears, ruffling the thick fur there. I knelt down beside him and pulled out the camera. His eyes followed the playful dancing arc of a butterfly's flight before it flitted down in the clover beside me, and the look on his face was one of such wonder and sincerity that it brought a smile to my lips. As I snapped the picture I thought, My dog knows things I will never know, enjoys the thrill of life in a way that perhaps only a small child would be able to understand, loves all things for their glory and simplicity and does not judge. I thought this as my finger pressed the button, and in that fraction of a second he pulled a trick on me.The little bugger.

We tried it again, and after only a little coaching, and help from the butterfly, which startled at my sudden laughter and scritching of Duncan's ears. It took to the air again in a sudden jerking leap, a paper kite without a string and I was able to get the shot I wanted. I think I know which one is my favorite: the one which truly captures the playful, and sometimes precocious spirit of my best friend.