My roommate's dog. This one is "he's big on the inside"
Post your pet photographs here for others to fawn over
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Susie - a rescue dog from Bulgaria.
Rusty - A rescue dog from South Carolina who can read signs and outpace the shutter on a Mamiya C3 
Sunny Boy. 13 years old.
OP
OP
Someone is looking for a treat.
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Stella passed away a couple of days ago at 10 yo. She was a great dane / irish wolfhound cross. A big dog but a really gentle sweetheart. Her only behavioural naughtiness was in chasing and occasionally catching wallabies that came onto the property. Long strides so very fast across the ground.
Sorry to hear that, such is life an let's remember the good times
Ehhh, pets.
They show you all the love the world has to offer at the darkest of times, dragging you out of depression by demonstrating that birthday can be each and every day, that it's a matter of perspective and healing. And then they're gone as if "mission complete" and their services aren't needed anymore. It hits especially hard when they leave so very young.
I found it interesting that I played around with reversal of Fomapan 200 when he arrived in this world and found myself with Fomapan 200 in camera when he left just a year and a half later: approximately the same time I didn't touch this film, exploring other options out there.
I found it double interesting that the first person to point out that there's something wrong with our beloved Pūciņš was a friend who I had over and hadn't seen for years and years.
My friend sat on the couch with us, we were chatting and watching my slides. He hadn't seen Pūciņš up to this point. Later this evening Pūciņš came inside the room and lied down on another piece of furniture next to the couch. As the evening went on, my friend spotted light emanating from his tummy and said that this requires medical attention.
Plain, calm and factually. Which turned out to be both - sooo true and a call received too late. Pūciņš experienced kidney and liver failure. Kidneys were swollen to the point of being easily touchable on the outside - which we felt for the first time that evening after my friend pointed out the precise location of said "light" source. And the magnificent young bastard hid that from us - cats are masters at hiding pain, this hurts.
And my friend was able to tell that something is wrong just by sitting next to our Pūciņš, never touching him and seeing lights emanating from him his tummy. How's that possible? Great question and my honest answer is - I don't know. All I know for sure is that we took some dried mycelium fruit bodies to see what's out there - he for the first time and just half of the entry amount...
Days later Pūciņš became inactive and vet wasn't able to help Pūciņš out. He died a painful death, but I'm thankful he died at home, in our hands. The way he died is interesting too, if you can indulge me further. When cats see death approaching, they isolate themselves. Free roaming cats go to whatever place to die never to be found again, but indoor cats choose small, hard to access places. Under bathtubs, behind massive furniture and so on. I saw Pūciņš searching for such a place, saw him going under the bathtub and it was clear to me that moment that the old friend Death has visited our house to free another friend from his pain, and I should prepare to greet him.
I lied down next to Pūciņš and asked him silently in my mind to not to go under there to die, but to come to us if that's a job that needs to be done this evening... He went under the bathtub - it saddened me. But a minute later he emerged from there and came to us to die. First days of January 2022.
Man, what a painfully wonderful experience. It's a sharp, shocking moment when a friend dies. You can feel sharply the moment life is leaving a body. A body that didn't have swollen kidneys anymore.
Reality is not a very much straightforward endeavor, this brings back the almighty awe we have as children where anything is possible. Awe that gets dulled down by our rationale, out boring, often unfulfilled lives and default mode network of our brains expressing itself in our everyday.
Besides this story there's another one on how his little baby mother chose us in the cold of the winter in her childhood, joining 2 other stray cats we give shelter in winter in our garage and have become really good friends with.
We assumed that she was brought here by the first cat that we started giving shelter to - a small female. Valid suspicion, because a tad later she fashioned herself a Maine Coon sized, red-haired bodyguard that was fearful of humans, but trusted her and let the garage doors be shut, trapping both cats and heat inside. As we got to know the red giant, we observed that has seen some of the worst the world has to offer and is practically without teeth. Both are inseparable ever since, explore the world together and stay around our property whole year around.
Goodbye, Pūciņ by Ivo Stunga, on Flickr
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A most remarkable image - of a most remarkable cat. A memorable being, who graces us with his presence but never deigns to be in any way less than a superior being.
By far the best I have seen in this thread so far, of so many other noteworthy photos.
Dogs are companions. Cats are friends, lovers, lions in disguise, who acknowledge us as admirers, servants, worshippers- slaves - but never lower themselves to crawl to us. Most remarkable and superior beings.
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Playing ? It looks more like Graziano v Zale
pentaxuser
It seemed intense at the time, but they knew when to back off so no blood was drawn and neither was injured. They enjoyed rolling and tumbling with each other until they got older.
Starsky. Lost him about 4 years ago. One of the friendliest animals, cats or dogs, I've ever known.
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Ivo:Sorry to hear that, such is life an let's remember the good times
Ehhh, pets.
They show you all the love the world has to offer at the darkest of times, dragging you out of depression by demonstrating that birthday can be each and every day, that it's a matter of perspective and healing. And then they're gone as if "mission complete" and their services aren't needed anymore. It hits especially hard when they leave so very young.
I found it interesting that I played around with reversal of Fomapan 200 when he arrived in this world and found myself with Fomapan 200 in camera when he left just a year and a half later: approximately the same time I didn't touch this film, exploring other options out there.
I found it double interesting that the first person to point out that there's something wrong with our beloved Pūciņš was a friend who I had over and hadn't seen for years and years.
My friend sat on the couch with us, we were chatting and watching my slides. He hadn't seen Pūciņš up to this point. Later this evening Pūciņš came inside the room and lied down on another piece of furniture next to the couch. As the evening went on, my friend spotted light emanating from his tummy and said that this requires medical attention.
Plain, calm and factually. Which turned out to be both - sooo true and a call received too late. Pūciņš experienced kidney and liver failure. Kidneys were swollen to the point of being easily touchable on the outside - which we felt for the first time that evening after my friend pointed out the precise location of said "light" source. And the magnificent young bastard hid that from us - cats are masters at hiding pain, this hurts.
And my friend was able to tell that something is wrong just by sitting next to our Pūciņš, never touching him and seeing lights emanating from him his tummy. How's that possible? Great question and my honest answer is - I don't know. All I know for sure is that we took some dried mycelium fruit bodies to see what's out there - he for the first time and just half of the entry amount...
Days later Pūciņš became inactive and vet wasn't able to help Pūciņš out. He died a painful death, but I'm thankful he died at home, in our hands. The way he died is interesting too, if you can indulge me further. When cats see death approaching, they isolate themselves. Free roaming cats go to whatever place to die never to be found again, but indoor cats choose small, hard to access places. Under bathtubs, behind massive furniture and so on. I saw Pūciņš searching for such a place, saw him going under the bathtub and it was clear to me that moment that the old friend Death has visited our house to free another friend from his pain, and I should prepare to greet him.
I lied down next to Pūciņš and asked him silently in my mind to not to go under there to die, but to come to us if that's a job that needs to be done this evening... He went under the bathtub - it saddened me. But a minute later he emerged from there and came to us to die. First days of January 2022.
Man, what a painfully wonderful experience. It's a sharp, shocking moment when a friend dies. You can feel sharply the moment life is leaving a body. A body that didn't have swollen kidneys anymore.
Reality is not a very much straightforward endeavor, this brings back the almighty awe we have as children where anything is possible. Awe that gets dulled down by our rationale, out boring, often unfulfilled lives and default mode network of our brains expressing itself in our everyday.
Besides this story there's another one on how his little baby mother chose us in the cold of the winter in her childhood, joining 2 other stray cats we give shelter in winter in our garage and have become really good friends with.
We assumed that she was brought here by the first cat that we started giving shelter to - a small female. Valid suspicion, because a tad later she fashioned herself a Maine Coon sized, red-haired bodyguard that was fearful of humans, but trusted her and let the garage doors be shut, trapping both cats and heat inside. As we got to know the red giant, we observed that has seen some of the worst the world has to offer and is practically without teeth. Both are inseparable ever since, explore the world together and stay around our property whole year around.
Goodbye, Pūciņ by Ivo Stunga, on Flickr
thank you for the story. I came back twice to re-read it. It reads like a poem.
JW
I take it that Starsky had the window tailor-made for himself, given how well it fits 
pentaxuser
pentaxuser
Yay, a pet thread. I have a trillion cat pictures. All all of them of the same guy.
But unfortunately, I lost him back in September and am still mourning that I’m no longer a crazy cat lady but a crazy lady without a cat.
But unfortunately, I lost him back in September and am still mourning that I’m no longer a crazy cat lady but a crazy lady without a cat.
What a beauty!First!
I think that's pretty common for photographers with pets. Especially ones like cats that make great subjects.
A decade back I met a young girl at a coffee shop. She was maybe 17 at the time, much younger than I, but also a photographer and a musician so we chatted about guitars and cameras and she had a lot of pet pics so we talked about cats as well. What else is there to talk about with someone less than half your age? It was enough for a nice friendship though and we always said hello when we ran into each other after that.
4 years later I had bought a new (digital) camera and ran into this same girl at a different coffee shop as I was playing with it, learning the menus and controls. I showed it to her and she said she could guarantee that the first pictures would be of Nono, my cat, and immediately hit play. And she was right. That one I posted was not the very first, but it was on the memory card that night.
Actually, I think was the first one on the card when that girl pressed play:
Cats just make great subjects, and they're always handy to pose for you. So sorry yours is gone. You get attached after enough time. I had Nono for 20 years.
By the way, I am not a cat person, but cats don't care. The neighbor's cats will follow me around the yard. So I still take cat photos when testing cameras.
Oliver the muppet.
Very kind words Oz. Lorna was a Maine Coon Cat and made it to 18. She loved when we had company. Would seemingly listen to every word said.
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