Bow (wow) to the King Charles Spaniel

He ain't called a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel for nothing. Here is Buddy, in all his glory, in some photos snapped by my sister-in-law's father Gerry in his basement studio.

I wasn't even going to bring the dog for a visit, let alone set him up for a portrait. This time of year, Buddy looks more like a dirty welcome mat at the local rugby team headquarters than a noble lap dog. But the next thing you know, Gerry was rigging up the camera while my niece was racing around the room like a professional, adjusting the lights, dressing the table with a piece of burgundy velvet, catching Buddy before he toppled to the floor (the platform was a tad wobbly, and Buddy soon learned that he had to stay in the centre of the tiny table and Not Move A Muscle.) My job was to keep the Bud focused and still, which turned out to be fairly easy. I just danced behind the camera, occasionally dipping into my pocket full of kibble and waving it just out of reach. The Bud can be motivated to do anything for kibble and will lock his eyes on my hand like a meat-seeking missile.



So bless his doggy heart, he sat and posed like a little royal. If you look closely into his eyes, you'll see what appears to be the studied concentration of an intellectual about to make a particularly salient point about the current political situation in Ottawa. What he's really thinking is, "drop the kibble, drop the kibble, drop the kibble."

Then he got tired, or perhaps he was trying hard not to slide off the table, or he was full of kibble.(As if.)


I've got to give the little guy credit. He posed with the professionalism of a super model. At least until the kibble got within striking distance.


Thanks, Gerry!