Dogs embody visual puns in these images -- we bet you can't look at them without smiling.
Free of society's inhibitions, dogs operate with primal indulgence -- if something in the garbage smells tasty, they will help themselves to it. Which is why we love them, even as we mop up our kitchen floors after them. Their lack of self-consciousness makes it easier for us to be ourselves around them, knowing that our canine friends will embrace us no matter what.
Award-winning photographer Serenah has always loved dogs, but it wasn't until four years ago that she turned her lens on our furry friends -- and on her own dogs in particular: Rocco, Ralph, and Simon. Inspired by their cleverness and the way her pups make her laugh all the time, Serenah's pet photography captures the sometimes unintentional humor of dogs in a loving, gentle way. Her images are guaranteed to crack a smile across your face and kindle a flame of contentment in your soul.
Following in the pawsteps of famous dog photographer William Wegman, Serernah first started photographing her pups Rocco and Ralph, who, according to her, "are always up for some fun if cheese is involved." Her Bulldog, Simon, has is own "look and personality to work with," and now Serenah pushes her artistic skills by challenging herself with creative ideas.
The result is a portfolio conveying the essence of dogs that is both wild and wildly funny. It almost makes us wonder whether the dogs are actually doing it on purpose just because they love to see us smile.
Taiwan, springtime. Outside, the world bursts into new life, but within the confines of a dark animal shelter, life pads quietly to its final destination.
En route to the euthanasia room, there's a visit with a man and a makeshift photo studio. With a classic portrait lighting setup, photographer Tou Chih-kang -- who works professionally as Tou Yun-fei -- works with a small dog. The dog has no home and will never have a home. The dog is just another statistic in a distressing pet overpopulation problem, and is scheduled to be destroyed. Though he has no name, he is allowed a final, immortalizing moment of dignity in front of Tou's camera.
Photographing the dog from various angles, Tou captures a hint of his soul -- a glance, a gaze, a certain tilt of the head -- and that's it. The dog is taken away for a final stroll around a grassy courtyard and is then put down, his last living moments caught like a ghost on the memory card in Tou's camera. Some of the dogs are young and clean -- obviously freshly abandoned -- while others are older and wilder, more accustomed to life on the streets than life in a home.
The photo is one of a series of thousands of images of death row dogs in Taiwan, which Tou hopes will bring awareness to the responsibility of pet ownership on the island. Every year thousands of pets are abandoned by naive pet owners who never realized the immense undertaking of bringing an animal home. With so many homeless dogs competing for resources, about 70 percent of all shelter strays are euthanized. Believing that the Taiwanese media does not give the issue enough attention, Tou set out to photograph the animals in their final, bleak moments. The results are images that are brutally honest and haunting, forcing us to contemplate our own mortality as we stare into the eyes of a creature who is one of very few species to form such a close and profound connection with us.
Beginning in August, a selection of Tou's work will be on display at the Fine Arts Museum in the southern Taiwanese city of Kaohsiung.
You know that feeling you've got rolling in your stomach right now? That eerie unease? That bit of anger? That sickness? These dogs' lives won't be in vain if you take that feeling and let it act as an impetus for change. Hug your dog extra tight, volunteer at a local shelter, and lead by example. Let the compassion flow toward your fellow humans, who are suffering as well. Make the world a better place for animals and people alike. That's how we all win.
Gracie is a black, two-year-old Lab/Pit bull mix with deformed knees who has spent almost her entire life at the Second Chance Animal Adoption shelter in Bonners Ferry, Idaho.
Gracie has a new address now — at Almost Heaven Ranch with my dad, Dr. Marty Becker and my mom, Teresa.
My dad and I, along with the staffs of North Idaho Animal Hospital in Sandpoint and Lakewood Animal Hospital in Coeur d’Alene, spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day visiting our local animal shelters and bringing toys, greats and other gifts to the homeless pets there. It was our way of trying to make these special pets have a happier day.
On the way from Panhandle Animal Shelter in Ponderay to Second Chance, my dad was talking to me in the car about how he wanted to get a new dog in the future. He said he wanted to wait for the right dog, one who really needed a home. Some of my work as a dog-trainer is at the local shelter, so I said that I’d be on the lookout for him.
When we got to Second Chance, we were busy handing out gifts. Dad posed for photos with a black mixed-breed dog named Gracie. Although she was far from lap-sized, she let him hold her in his arms, totally relaxed — almost collapsed.
At one point I looked around and realized my dad had vanished. I walked back to the kennels and found him sitting in Gracie’s run. She was cuddled up next to him, staring up at his face while he petted and held her. The treat-stuffed Kong toy we’d given her for Christmas did not mean nearly as much to her as it did just to sit next to my dad.
Although there were dozens of people in the area, it felt like there was no one else in there at all, like it was just the two of them. I was witnessing something amazing.
When I asked dad what he was doing, he answered me in a voice I’d never heard from him before. He sounded like a little kid excited to open his stocking on Christmas.
“She’s a special dog, Kel,” he said. “She’s just really touched me. I don’t know what to do, but she has really stolen my heart. I think she might be the one!”
I knew then and there we were bringing home a new dog for Christmas. She and dad had an immediate connection, as if they were soulmates.
As soon as dad, after a few minutes of deliberation, decided he was taking her home, the entire staff and volunteers were in tears. They said they had all spent many anxious nights worrying about Gracie and if she would ever get a home with her special needs. They figured she had a good chance of always being a shelter resident.
Instead, it turns out she had just been waiting there for the special person who was going to be her forever friend.
On the way home she was sitting in my lap, but kept inching closer and closer to my dad in the driver’s seat until half her body was lying in the center console so that she could have her head resting right by him.
When we got home to Almost Heaven Ranch, dad marched in with her, so much vigor and joy in his step. He reminded me of a little kid who just got his first pet, or even like a mom who just brought her new baby home from the hospital.
My dad speaks at veterinary meetings and conferences about the connection people have to our pets and how much we love them — he calls it “The Bond” — to help motivate veterinarians to improve their connection to pet owners as well as pets. I’ve always known how sincere he is about that, but this weekend I’ve seen it in action in a way I never have before.
I see dad looking at Gracie and seeing past her crippling ailments to the pure soul that lies underneath. I see him crying while he holds her in his lap, Gracie just staring up at him with such calmness, such a sure sense that he is going to protect her from now on.
This Christmas, we thought we would be giving out presents to pets to make their day special. I never expected one pet would steal my dad’s heart at first sight and, as my mom said yesterday, turn out to be the greatest Christmas present he has ever had. I know each day with her will continue to be a gift.
Welcome home, Gracie!
More video of Gracie and our Christmas shelter visits under the jump…
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Gracie is a black, two-year-old Lab/Pit bull mix with deformed knees who has spent almost her entire life at the