Barley, a dog, sniffs the nether regions of a golden retriever who is lying happily on her back. Barley has a workplace buddy with whom she very occasionally gets to hang out, and whenever they do, their dynamic is very funny. Barley is generally pretty bossy with other dogs. She wants them to know she’s the boss, and is excited to convey that repeatedly in the form of rough-housing play. Her buddy, by contrast, may be the most submissive dog I’ve ever met, and submits to Barley’s authority with just as much enthusiasm.

Barley, a dog, sees a hole that was meant for her. I’ll never know why, exactly, this hole is so compelling, but it doesn’t matter whether months have passed or whether Barley got a chance to check it out earlier in the same day. When we pass this hole, she will stand and sniff for as long as she can until I finally coax her away.

Barley, a dog, pulls excitedly on her leash in the hopes of approach postal truck down the road. Growing up, I was always a little puzzled by cartoon trope of dogs chasing mail carriers. The idea made sense, of course, but for various reasons it was never a behavior I witnessed in person. It was one of those “facts” that kids learn primarily from pop culture instead of lived experience; you know, the type that often turn out to have no basis in reality? Well. Ever since the mail carriers in my neighborhood started consistently (a) carrying treats on their person and (b) offering them to Barley, she’s become a big fan of mail vans. I have to try to temper her enthusiasm because she gets excited enough to be a little bonkers about it.

Barley, a dog, sniffy about beside an ostentatious garden wall that’s just a little too tidy to be fieldstone. Barley’s not a huge dog bit she’s big enough to let her presence be known. A lot of it comes down to her exuberant personality. I’m so used to her at her current size that when we encounters something that goes a bit over the top, my instinct isn’t to feel like it makes her look small, but rather to feel like she makes those thinks look even bigger. While I can easily see over this wall, seeing Barley right next to it bring to mind a vision of Barley as a Forgotten Beast, stalking the perimeter of a stony fortress.

Juniper, a dog, lies in her crate, over which a knitted blanker is draped. She watches from the darkness intently. When Juniper is deep in her feelings, she likes to have little timeouts in her crate. Since there’s never occasion to close the door, and because of the blanket draped over it, it’s a dark, comfy zone she can count on. She’s begun to take breaks in there more often since it was repositioned in such a way that, from where she is lying in the photo, she has an unobstructed view of the television.

Barley, a dog, stands by a lamp post beneath a sign reading, “SLOW DOWN, OBSERVE & ENJOY”. Thanks, sign! We will! Advice to live by, honestly. I’ve already such such a great role model in Barley.

Barley, a dog, spots a shiny blue marble tucked among some stones. Walking Barley forces me to pay much more attention to my immediate surroundings than I would if I was walking alone. While you might think that could get a little tiresome (and I’ll admit that walking Barley isn’t precisely a relaxing exercise), I actually find that there’s something compelling about this state of extended vigilance. I notice a lot more of the tiny details that give the world texture this way, and find myself wondering what curious chain of events might have led to the world being arrayed just so. Even after what is now certainly thousands of hours of walking this dog, I’m still not bored, which I take to be a good sign.

Barley, a dog, sniffs about in a patch of barren soil, ringed with a concrete parking bumper. There’s something tragic about a barren rectangle of dirt in a parking lot. I figure the story is some version of “Something was here when the property was developed, it grew big enough for its roots to be a problem, so we dug it out and decided we’d rather do nothing with the spot that devote any landscaping effort to it whatsoever.” Perhaps Barley feels otherwise, seeing them instead as a collaborative canvas to which anyone can contribute!

Barley, a dog, sniffs along a verge from which bamboo is growing. Barley, a dog, continues walking past the camera. wind blows through bambooit whispers news to her nose that we cannot hear

Barley, a dog, ponders a sonic sculpture consisting of sheet metal but into bulbous shapes that hang within a red framework. I’m a big fan of this sculpture. As it was explained to me, the harmonic profile of a traditional, 3-dimensional tubular bell can be closely approximated by an appropriately-shaped flat sheet of metal. And sure enough, if you strike any one of these bits of sheet metal, it rings with a pleasantly sonorous note on a 12-tone scale (with the 13th note providing the octave). I always make sure to do so when I walk by, although Barley gives the impression of not being as big a fan of its musical potential as I am.

Barley, a dog, glances over her shoulder. Behind her, a bright green lawn extends that, upon closer inspection, consists mostly of moss. ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ ඞ…

Juniper, a dog, gazes contentedly up from her giant bed, in the company of her squirrel and her husky. We will never fully understand the intricate nuances of Juniper’s relationships with her beloved toys. Given her disposition, I’m inclined to interpret her approach less as hosting a tea party for her stuffies, and more as plotting courtly intrigues with them. It’s less a guest/host dynamic and more of a family affair.

Barley, a dog, sits contentedly surrounded by an array of toys lying in disarray, as though she stands along on a battlefield littered with her fallen foes. Barley has just about reached toy saturation at this point, such that my living room is a kind of chaotic plushie abattoir. Turns out, my having mastered various tricks for extended their useful lifetime has been enough to make the rate at which she received gifts from family a net growth model. Going forward, I may need to encourage folks to get her nice consumables a little more often, see if I can get us back to parity.

Barley, a dog, stands attentively, tail in motion, surveying the process of the dishes being prepared for the dishwasher. Once dinner with my parents has concluded, Barley has clear expectations about what will transpire next. Dishes will get done, and maybe, maybe, some additional morsels will fall within reach. And after that, well, after that come the Night Apples.

Barley, a dog, supermans on a futon, clearly zonked out. A plush sloth is draped over her back, giving off a similar vibe. Not only is Barley a champion of the Solo Nap, she is also adept at a more challenging event: the Synchronized Nap.

Barley, a dog, looks up at the camera. Behind her, a sign indulges in some questionable logo design. “My plumbing was a mess, things were real unreliable downstairs, but that all changed when I called SHARTS.”

Barley, a dog, stands and licks clean a large tub of Nancy’s yogurt. My parents have a yogurt chaser after dinner just about every night, and in so doing they go through their fair share of yogurt containers. Whenever I visit, I can count on them having one or two nearly-empty containers from the preceding week to give Barley so she can “feel included” during family dinner.

Barley, a dog, sniffs along the perimeter of a substantial treetop, now fallen to the snowy earth after bitter cold and strong winds. Invariably, trees in the area take some hits when the city gets walloped by some heavy-duty winter. Fortunately, where I live and work both seem to have adopted a “once bitten, twice shy” approach after getting hit hard in the last few years, and had arborists coming out and doing some preventative trimming before the New Year. This tree, unfortunately, was further afield and did not receive such attention.

Juniper, a dog, has a single paw before her as she gazes piercingly into the camera. When we first met Juniper and decided to rescue her, the thing that set her apart from the other young puppies in her litter was her intense, focused eye contact. Even at 14 weeks old, she was not locking eyes with her siblings, or with the other dogs from the shelter. She was interested in humans, she needed to know more about humans. To this day, she understands that the eyes are the most important part of a person to scrutinize, and if you meet her gaze you can almost feel her gears turning as she evaluates whatever it is that you’re up to.

Barley, a dog, snoozes on a futon with her face stuffed fully into a dark nook arising from two cushions and a salmon-colored plush toy. While Barley can sleep anywhere, she prefers somewhere dark when she wants to properly sleep and not merely doze. Sometimes, a blessed alignment occurs, and a place she happens to already be snoozing reveals itself to be a tiny island of dark in an otherwise lit room.