Honey and Rusty both were retrievers. They loved to swim.
Having expounded at length in my previous post about my philosophy of photography, which is, as photography critic Bill Jay wrote, "The Thing Itself," it's time for a change. This post is going to the dogs.
For ten years we enjoyed the companionship of the pair we called our "big dogs." Honey and Rusty were with us in just about everything we did on our little farm.
They were with us when we went snow-boarding. . .
Or when we were just hanging out by the pool. They were our buddies.
Honey loved to lie on our back doorstep and show the world her beautiful profile. . .
And Rusty had his own noble profile. He was the sweetest of dogs.
By the summer of 2014, Honey was 14 years old and was noticeably slowing down. Each day, Rusty would nuzzle her until she got up, then they would go off on their morning patrol of our property and the neighborhood.
In late August it became obvious that Rusty was having some distress. By Labor Day weekend, he was in severe pain. We think he had stomach cancer. He died a day or two later as I was taking him to be put to sleep. I will always deeply regret that I didn't take him sooner.
Without Rusty to make her get up and keep going, Honey failed rapidly. She died three weeks later. We buried them both in a corner of the pasture in front of our house and planted a Japanese magnolia tree on their grave.
We will always remember the faithful friends of some of the best days of our lives.
Most of the photos were made with a Canon EOS 5D Classic digital camera and various Canon lenses.
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Photography and text copyright 2011-2025 David B.Jenkins.
I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.
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