This last winter was exceptionally mild, and yet Dasa still grew little fuzzy pantaloons, something she hasn’t done for several years now. Despite the record breaking hot weather we’re enduring, the little pantaloons remain.
My attempts to document her fuzzy pantaloons were not as successful as I hoped. Who know it would be so difficult to photograph Dasa’s little behind? I tried photographing from above as we walked down the street. The angle made these photos very indistinct. I tried sneaking up behind her and crouching down to photograph. Just as I aimed my camera, she whirled around and looked at me suspiciously. I made bright chirpy noises, “Hi Sweetie, it’s just Mommy,” while I tried to walk around to focus on her fuzzy bottom. She regarded me with not a little concern—what are you doing back there?—and her little tail went into a semi-whippet postion whenever I attempted to get a good shot. I tried to sit on the floor and wait, but she would then come to sit beside me and tap me with a dainty paw to remind me to rub her tummy.
I tried to explain. “It’s OK. Mommy’s just taking your picture. I do that all the time. You know about cameras.” She looked at me doubtfully, and despite my maneuverings, did not turn her back on me or allow me to sidle behind her, camera at the ready. I called in my lovely assistant Eric, who made a point of telling Dasa all this needless torture was my fault, and he was only helping because I forced him to. As a result, the photos included in this blog entry lack a certain clarity. However, in the eyes of her doting parents, it’s very clear she’s delightful in pantaloons.
|Dasa recovering from her ordeal.|