Montana

I had a full and fairly delightful day, and I took many good pictures. I choose this portrait of Montana, my neighbor's dog, because I have always meant to blip her but I've not had such a good opportunity.

Montana is an old dog who has been fostered by my next-door neighbors for a few years, since her previous owner became unable to care for her. She has weak hind legs and, if memory serves, she is at least thirteen years old.

I see Montana just about every day. She gets her walks from dog walkers by day and by her human mistress at night. I occasionally pet her on the forehead, and I always say hello.

Montana always has a smile on her face. Here she's relaxing in the middle of 45th Street during the annual block party that is organized by my neighbors. She never growls or barks. I'm reminded of the Frank Zappa's 1973 song by the same name. As you can hear for yourself, the lyrics are amusing, but they can't be taken seriously. They only serve to compliment Zappa's unique and unforgettable music, and cheerfully. Likewise, Montana simply enjoys being alive. She presents no argument.