Debby and Judy's Dog Ouevre

More scrummage.
see all photos »

As some of you know, I associate with several dog afficionados back in lovely Fort Collins, Colorado.  I am under strict instruction to photograph some of the puppies and dogs that I find along the way, an appointment that will chafe a bit when I get to see some of the street dogs in India, in just a few days.  But taking photographs in London is a much more hopeful proposition -- or so I thought.  Note that I say 'proposition' rather than 'realization.'

Over the last two weeks, I'd taken a couple of lackluster photographs in Russell Square for Judy and Debby (primary dog-lovers), and one good one of Monty, a Westie whose grandfather was the champion of Crufts (whatever that means, it's good).  But I'd been holding high hopes for an excursion to Regents Park on a Sunday, such as yesterday, where, I recalled, past visits had yielded pleasant views of dogs bounding for balls, frisbees, the heavens.  I planned to take a plethora of engaging, sunny photos of engaging, sunny dogs.  It was not to be.

Go to the top and a little this way; you can't miss it.

Teddy in Russell Square.
see all photos »

Several happenstances conspired against my meeting this aim.  First, it began to rain as soon as I got there.  Second, centrifugal force threw me against the hedges ringing "the inner circle," and somehow I found myself whizzing around the periphery for 70 laps or so, never being able to find a way out other than over the original Clarence Bridge.  I was entertained at length by some seemingly endless rose gardens -- I took about 2000 photographs of roses -- as well as a bronze fountain of uncertain theme (fish tails, naked women, a triumphant man sitting on top spitting water straight up from a pitcher or his forehead or something vague upward of his nose).  Finally I achieved egress from the Inner Circle just in time to be greeted by a much harder downpour, thunder, and the only dog I saw on my entire visit to Regents Park, yesterday:  a dapper little foxy thing that trotted towards me like an extra in Swan Lake.  The owner of "Kiwi," as I soon learned, was an expat American with impaired social skills.  That's okay -- the photos I took of Kiwi didn't come out anyway.

Monks in Regents Park.
see all photos »

I did also find ducks to photograph for Judy, and two blue herons to photograph for Debby, as well as the opportunity to post a photo of very fuzzy chickens which I took expressly for Leslee.  Then, somewhere among the spindrift and roses, I found a trio of monks which I photographed also.

Desperate to cease my laps around the Inner Circle, find the St. Johns Wood tube stop, and get out of the rain, I encountered for the umpteenth time the rather vague directing skills of the local townspeople.  In other words, I was waved on in the general direction of the tube by several souls more securely encumbered by umbrellas and other raingear, who gave enigmatic directions such as "go to the top and then a little bit this way.  You can't miss it."  Meaning that five lefts, down a set of stairs, in the front door and out the back door of a launderette, and a half-mile later, I might spy a newseller who would tell me to keep going, that I was halfway there.

Stone figure, British Museum.
see all photos »

To cut this shaggy dog story short, as I'm a little short on time myself right now, I disconsolately trudged back towards the Penn Club, through Russell Square, when, to my great joy, I met Chloe, Jodi, and Margaret.  See photos for explanation.  I learned that these three dogs, of a breed I don't recognize (since they weren't yellow labradors or golden retrievers), a sort of poofy white breed, each has her own passport for travel outside of Great Britain.  Who knew.

So, my afternoon salvaged by Chloe, et al., I went over to the British Museum to check out my favorite Buddha heads.  They were all there, and they hadn't aged a bit.  See pix.

Chinese Judge of Lives, British Museum.
see all photos »

Well, owing to a limited amount of time left in this internet cafe, I shall sign off here, now, for just a little while.

Cheers,

Sarah