The Flibbertigibbet

How do you snap a picture of my Juno?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you show her likeness in a photo?
A ferret-on-crack, a honey badger who don't care...an escaped manic lunatic with no gown?

The exonerated egg-stealer in repose:

Juno is contemplative. The lovefest has been delayed. "Why no huggie? I don't recall being bad. If it's about that shop towel that was next to me in the front yard, well, all I have to say is that thing was not put away like it should have been, and anything that I find is fair game. They're an acquired taste, those shop towels, and can't hold a candle to that damp paper towel I found after the new hockey-themed floor was laid in the boys' bathroom. A paper towel which was quite tasty, and not at all sturdy like one might think."

Of course, it took eight shots to garner two usable photos. And they are not what a normal person would call usable. Only a Juno-snapper would term these pictures a success. That's because when you try to snap Juno's picture, she is already three poses ahead when the shutter shuts.

Most of them turn out something like THIS. And that is only IF you can actually get a shot with her in the frame:

 

"I'm over HERE, Humanmommy! HERE! Right in front of you. Why you stand so far back, eh? I must touch my nose to your neck. I think I'll just jump down, here, and get closer to you. What? Why you yell at Juno? Stop? Sit? No? What does this mean? Can't you see I am wiggling all over? Come closer! We hug, no?"

Her constant companion, the shepherd/lab Ann, remains steadfast and calm. The bark of reason. Her muddy brown eyes are no match for Juno's bright clear photo-blurred soul-windows. Ann's an empathetic, loyal, woman's next-best friend, without much spark.

Ah...the furry kids. As different from each other as human kids. Yet we try not to show favoritism.