Barley, a dog, lies on brown grass facing sunward, with a monkey puzzle tree in the background. It’s said that Araucaria araucana is called the “monkey puzzle tree” because a 19th century British barrister quipped, of its thorn-plated branches, that “it would puzzle a monkey to climb that.” Perhaps my own inner primate echoes that sentiment, because I’ve always felt a vague bafflement when I encounter one. For her part, Barley found nothing whatsoever of interest when examining it, but was perfectly willing to take five in the sun while I snapped a pic.

Barley, a dog, lies on her side as she is viewed from above, lying on an abstract blue-gray sheet struck through with chaotic white streaks. Perhaps the most alien thing about a dog to a human is its aesthetic sensibility. There’s no sense that Barley has any opinion about this visually striking linen set, any more than a plain white sheet. It’s not clear that Barley would recognize an object as “artistic.” Her world is eminently practical: Food is good, and tasty food is best. Soft surfaces are nice, rough surfaces not so much. From a cynical perspective, this paints a picture of a life lived in a kind of aesthetic void, a world of wiremesh geometries, automatic scripts, and meters that need refilling. And yet. She has joys as well: Being close, making eye contact, reunion with familiar people. Barley’s aesthetic sensibilities, it seems to me, are entirely social, and all the world’s beauty is found in the living. She doesn’t watch our movies: We are her movies. She doesn’t listen to our music: We are her music. We are beautiful. You are beautiful. Just ask Barley.

Juniper, a dog, stands on her hind legs to bark at a chiropteran monster on the television screen. Juniper remains a steadfast guardian against screen beasts, who she will not abide even for narrative purposes. On the one hand, one can hardly fault her for not paying attention to the movie; on the other, one presumes this is not the spirit in which the filmmakers intended for the work to be experienced.

Barley, a dog, looks up from a toy that was, at one time, a lobster, before being whittled down by a process of damage and repair over many years. It’s wild to me that Barley has stuffed toys with literal years under their belt, the survivors of many tours of duty being enthusiastically thrashed by some serious chompers. Quite a few of these long-timers barely resemble their original forms, instead looking the way you might imagine a plushie would look if you could put one in a rock tumbler to smooth out its features. As always, the secret to such long and productive life is (a) making sure the toy remains understuffed, and (b) performing any needed repairs with short lengths of upholstery thread (whose durability relative to the thread used by garment makers continues to blow my mind).

Barley, a dog, looks up excited at an off-camera treat while licking her chops with gusto. Anyone who interacts with Barley hands-on is going to get to know her prodigious tongue, which she uses to bestow prosocial affection on everyone she meets. It’s genuinely wild how much surface area it can cover, and I find myself wondering how the entire slobbery lilypad of a thing can remain tucked so neatly inside her modest snout most of the time. Here, excitement over a treat has brought it out of hiding, and we get an unusually clear view how just how broadly it extends.

Barley, a dog, looks down the length of a bridge with orange lights. Barley, a dog, looks back over her shoulder on a bridge with blue lights. Over 20 years ago, the white globes covering a bridge’s light fixtures were replaced with blue globes as part of a weekend celebration. The community loved those blue lights so much that, when the white globes were restored, there was a general outcry. There was no going back, it was near-universally felt: The bridge must now be blue. So the powers that be swapped the party globes back in and the bridge has remained blue to this day. When, much later, a second bridge over the same body of water was built, symmetry demanded that the new bridge have a distinctive chromatic identity. I’m sure orange was an easy sell (it being a pretty typical color for lights to have), but it can’t have hurt that it sat directly opposite on the color wheel.

Barley, a dog, sits upon a vibrant, well-maintained mosaic bench, erected as a memorial to a man killed in a bicycle-vehicle collision. When I happened upon this bench, my first instinct was that it’s a very nice piece of public art, and that it’s a very community-oriented gesture to build such a piece on your property and have it face the sidewalks, as if to invite pedestrians to stop and rest for a moment. It was only after inviting Barley to have a seat so I could take a photo that I looked more closely at the six-panel story above the bench, declaring it a memorial dedicated to the memory of Matthew Schekel. In 1998, Matthew died at this intersection, and this bench was eventually erected in his memory. What struck me quite deeply was the condition of the mosaic tiles themselves: They had almost none of the grit or dusty residue that you would expect from something facing a street. The tiles were shiny, almost polished, in a way that you only expect from something that is being cleaned by hand on a regular basis. 25 years later, someone still cares enough to continue to tend to this memorial. It gave the deeply humbling feeling of sitting not in a memorial, but within the memory of the caretaker itself.

Barley, a dog, hovers her nose over a clay put half-filled with rain water. As the weather gets warmer each year, I need to become more vigilant about Barley deciding, mid-walk, to drink from one pool of water or another. The risk is much lower, however, immediately after rainfall. It’s hard to imagine the transformative effect of rain on a dog’s olfactory world, probably a bit like walking outdoors one day and realizing that “Oh, guess it’s just going to be one of those days when all the colors are ultra-saturated for some reason.” Here, we see Barley having an unusually long ponder about the smells coming from a half-full flower pot that, upon reflection, really could use better drainage.

A portrait of Barley, a dog, rendered as a minimalist ink sketch. If you’re looking to give your dog-loving extended family a low-cost gift, try this one simple trick! Simply affix a piece of paper onto a computer screen displaying a photo of your beloved pup and carefully trace the dog’s outline. Then, carefully add additional contour lines marking major boundaries (shoulders, hips, ears), with special attention to the parts of the face that are most expressive. Then add simple crosshatched shading, whiskers, and other details. Easy!

Juniper, a dog, stands on a floating dock and peers out across the water. As suspicious as Juniper is of the beach, you would think that she dislikes the sea. On the contrary - it is the waterline that she mistrusts, always ebbing and flowing and completely unresponsive to biting. Get her on a floating dock, and we learn that Juniper finds being out over the water enthralling. She has not, so far as I’m told, ever jumped in. She instead scans the horizon, and all the shimmering taking place between it and herself.

Barley, a dog, sleeps on her dog bed with her face fully under a pillow. When Barley was first getting settled in her current residence, I made available to her some of the auxiliary pillows that it seems impossible to progress through adulthood without accruing. To a comical degree, she does not seem to understand what such pillows are for or how to use them. One would think, with a noggin like hers, she’d want something soft to rest it on. Turns out, usually not so much. If anything, she seemed happiest when the pillows are positioned such that she can lie down normally, and then with a slight shimmy, wedge her hear into an enclosure.

Barley, a dog, splays out on shady concrete to shed some of her body heat into its cool expanse. Paved surfaces are, reliably, not fun surfaces. Of course, they’re not the worst - Barley will happily walk on them and all - but during a heat wave, it’s clear that she light-steps to get clear of the too-bright concrete and too-hot asphalt. However, in this particular instance, she and I were in a park with (a) no tall trees or grassy spaces (instead favoring an ecologically-minded low-water-consumption model), (b) near-constant winds coming in from an adjacent body of water, and (c) a fiery sky orb. Given the concrete’s tendency to reflect the incoming energy back at you from multiple angles, this had the effect of trying to take a stroll across a slow-cooking skillet. Fortunately, a maintenance/restroom area at the edge of the park had broad overhangs, keeping swathes of street in permanent shadow. Without any direct exposure to the sun, and continuously swept by a water-cooled breeze, this patch was legitimately cold to the touch. Realizing she had finally found a valid heat sink, Barley plopped her belly onto the ground with reckless enthusiasm.

Barley, a dog, pauses in the middle of an enthusiastic wiggle while lying on her back with her paws up. If anyone asks, you have my permission to send them this post. This is Updog.

Barley, a dog, turns to face the camera after being approached while asleep. Barley may be the lightest sleeper I’ve ever met, of any species. Even after lying still for tens of minutes, she will swivel an eye (or her whole head) to check in if she so much as hears your body shift in your chair. As such, I have a whole host of photos taken when trying and failing to catch her sleeping.

Barley, a dog, sits facing into the sun, caught on camera from a distance. Barley treats sunning herself on the deck much like a kid treats jumping into a pool. Given the opportunity, she’ll dive in and get herself a dose of sunlight. Then, once she’s too hot, she’ll come back inside and fall asleep. What’s fun is that she’ll get her sundoses on her own if the door is open. Here, she was spotted at a distance, having gone out to face the day star all on her own, and did not realize she was being observed. She came back in of her own accord about 10 minutes later.

Barley, a dog, makes a needy, expectant face when confronted with snacks made of barley grass. Bring! Treats For Dogs is a small business that sells baked snacks for pups. There’s a lot to love about their product: Made in small batches, using human-grade ingredients, they are nevertheless also quite reasonably priced! So imagine my surprise when I learned that they sell treats that literally have Barley’s name on them. There wasn’t any question - I had to get them.

Juniper and Barley, two dogs, sit on a turn in the stairs and observe from on high. As much fun as I like to have contrasting Barley and Juniper’s distinctive personalities, there’s no denying that in their years together, they nevertheless shared many traits and habits. In addition to being almost exactly the same size (to within 2 pounds or so), they were very in tune with us and with one another, following the perceived ebb and flow of the pack. As such, despite seeing the world very differently, each was also willing to go along with the other’s preoccupations to some degree - team players despite sometimes playing completely different sports.

Barley, a dog, sits atop a big wooden lawn chair, next to a smaller, empty seat. As I’ve noted in the past, a real perk of Barley’s temperament is that she just wants to hang. Plop yourself into a lawn chair (or better yet, onto the grass proper) and she immediately takes the hint that it’s time to chill out and soak in the scenery.

Barley, a dog, sleeps deeply in her new workplace accommodations. Moving to a new office affords the possibility to get Barley some new digs. Here, she sleeps on a dog bed positioned atop her old dog bed (double dog bed comfort!). While this cage is plenty large enough for her, there are not currently any plans to close the door - instead, it provides an armature for the sun-shielding blanket up top, ensuring that her snoozing isn’t disrupted by solar intrusions.

Barley, a dog, is made to brandish a wristwatch reading “bonkers” through the magic of white board nonsense. Look, I don’t make the rules. See? It’s right here on this timepiece. Go on, get silly, be puppy.