Today, I was sitting on the floor in my bedroom photographing a lock on an old chest at the foot of the bed. Demi came into the room, jumped onto the chest and sat down. I explained patiently what I was doing and told her to get down because her hair was in my frame. She just sat there. I adjusted the angle to get her hair out of the photograph. She still sat there. Finally, when I was finished with the project, I got up from the floor and told her to get down. She continued to sit right there in the same spot. I couldn’t understand it. She always runs off to get a treat when she has my attention.
By this time, I was becoming more amused by the minute. “So, you want a portrait. Is that it?” I snapped a few pictures of her. She stared off toward the bookcases as if she were deciding whether there might be a dog adventure story in there. I patiently explained that she was not ready for a portrait.
“Now, Demi Girl, your hair has not been brushed. You can’t have a portrait with stringy hair.”
She ignored me.
“Besides, you have drippy eyes”. I thought surely the dirty face would convince her.
Nope. She just sat there waiting.
Finally, I tried to convince Demi that the incandescent light in the room would not show her to good advantage. That kind of light is yellow, I told her. She looked down at her newly groomed paw. The hair on her paws used to be so long that it folded under her feet when she walked and made her slip. I think she feels barefoot now. Maybe she wants a barefoot photo. Are dogs vain? I wondered. Now I was laughing. Demi was not laughing. The girl was serious about something.
After twenty or so shots, I gave up. I sat down on the chest with Demi and smoothed her hair. She laid her head down on my lap and closed her eyes to get her ears scratched. Demi, you silly girl, I said. That’s what you wanted in the first place.