Popeye has mellowed with age. There was a time not too long ago when I could never get him to stay still long enough to take his portrait. He'd sense what I was up to and immediately pad away. Camera shy, not even falling for the promise of a treat.
I wonder if it is because he has been struggling with a chronic illness these past seven months. Is he just too tired to protest? I doubt it; he is as lively and mischievous as always. Our daughters have long claimed that I am lying when I say he won't let me take his picture. They each live far from us and clamor for new shots of their favorite boy. I have had to work hard to oblige...until this year. This year he patiently acquiesces and pauses while I take the shot. He is constantly underfoot, my best buddy, so I have plenty of opportunities throughout the day.
It seems he has turned into a bit of a narcissist...
Whatever the reason, I never tire of taking his picture.
An excerpt from the poem "The Sweetness of Dogs":
… Thus, we sit, myself
thinking how grateful I am for the moon’s perfect beauty and also, oh! how rich
it is to love the world. Percy, meanwhile,
leans against me and gazes up into
my face. As though I were just as wonderful
as the perfect moon.
~ Mary Oliver, Dog Songs