January 29

I've used a couple of my recent posts to complain about the surfeit of snowfall Boston's received over the past month. There's likely to be more complaints -- many more complaints -- in the weeks ahead.

Not everybody in my household shares the same aversion to snow, however. While I'm pretty sure my cat, Pretty Boy, is on my side, Pogo (my dog, a Border Collie - Husky mix) just loves playing in the snow. I let him out into the backyard this morning and grabbed my camera to snap some photos. He didn't disappoint; as soon as he was done with more pressing matters, he headed right for the soft snow and proceeded to roll merrily in the stuff.

Pogo is 13 years old now. He's diabetic, going deaf, has a ventricular arrhythmia (heart murmur), and in the past year had a small tumor removed from his belly. He spends a lot of time napping. So when I get to see him frolicking in the snow, having pure, unadulterated fun, it brings me a lot of joy.

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January 08

Tico is my downstairs neighbor cat, and a fearless scourge of small birds in our neighborhood. I was doing the latest performance of the Backyard Ballet today, letting Pogo out and bringing Jasper in, when I spied Tico on the other side of the backyard, casually sauntering back toward the house with his prey. This is a common enough occurrence, but when it happened before, I hadn't been trying to complete a Photo of the Day project.

One of the problems of having an injured foot is that your world begins to shrink. I haven't been out doing much or going places, so I'm left with the house, the job, and the commute to document things about my life. I'm working on the whole healing thing, but it's simply going to take time.

Meanwhile, I chose this photo because Tico and his bird fascinated Pogo. Below are some smaller pics of Pogo trying to approach Tico. It was like watching a chase in slow motion; both Pogo and Tico were walking, Pogo with what I can only describe as a "hey whatcha got there?" expression on his face, while Tico was all "Mr. Cool Kitty," about the whole thing.

In the end, Pogo didn't get to see the dead bird -- much to his disappointment. Isn't it always the case that puppy dogs have to give up so much just to keep their humans happy?

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January 06

This photo feels like it should have some kind of artsy-fartsy name attached to it. "Pogo in the Backyard," though, doesn't quite do it for me. (I'll entertain suggestions. Really. Proof that somebody reads this thing would be wonderful.)

Since I hurt my foot, my landladies and downstairs neighbors have kindly let Pogo go into their backyard for his walks. Getting around sidewalks that are salty and irritate his paws is bad enough, but with an injured foot, I have trouble navigating slippery sidewalks myself.

Getting Pogo into the backyard is kind of a production. The landladies' dog, Jasper, is rather territorial about his backyard, so I have to bring him in through the basement dog flap while letting Pogo out onto the porch through the back door. It's a masterpiece of timing, really, and I'm getting much better at it.

While I was doing the backyard ballet today, I happened to look down from a second-floor window and thought to myself what a great photo it would be to get my black-and-white dog on a stark white background. Thus, today's photo of the day.

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