I have often wondered exactly at what my doglets are looking as the gaze off into the distance. Are the dreaming of the roads they will travel? Are they longing for an unsuspecting victim to wander by around whose heels they can bark? I had a basset hound that spent most of his adult life sitting outside my french doors looking in. Feeling sorry for him, I would often relent and let him in. Inevitably, he would find his way back to the french doors and spend hours looking back out them. Maybe he wasn't looking in or out at all--perhaps he simply enjoyed the heady aroma of his rancid breath bouncing back off the glass. I swear the smuggy nose prints are still there. Original 4 x 6 inch gallery-wrapped mini painting in a private collection.
17 of 1101