Chet Baker is Three!

Today is Chet Baker's third birthday. I can't believe it. Three years ago today, I was absolutely popping with the knowledge that our puppy had been born. I had thought to keep the secret until Christmas, but as Chili Bean's pregnancy wore on, I popped, too, and told the kids, and they were in on the e-mails flying between me and Jane about the labor and birth. Only two puppies were born, and Chet was the big one. We had second pick of the litter, which meant that we got whichever puppy the first-comers didn't pick. It was a glorious and life-altering day when Jane e-mailed to tell us that the fat puppy with less white on his face was ours.

In honor of Chet's birthday, I will post a series of SnowDog photos. They seem to capture Chet's vitality and humor, as well as his blinding speed. This is a pretty shot. The conditions were tough, with very low light, so the pictures are blurry, but I like the strength and thrust of this pose.

He left a rooster tail of snow wherever he sped. I love this photo, the composition with the green toboggan.

A Santa's beard of snow on my puppeh as he banks around a turn.
Reveling in his speed, he schusses around the garage. He's his own canine snowmobile.
Joy shows in every line as he picks up speed and comes right at the photographer.The next three photos show Baker in full SnowGoogle.

Nobody grins like a Boston terrier.


Wait! There might be mice under the snow.
It's a good excuse to catch my breath, anyway.
The difference between Baker at three and Baker at one is that his snow-frisking periods are vastly shorter now. Boston terriers were not blessed when the Lord handed out fur coats. Chet has about the cold tolerance I do, stark naked. It wasn't long before the photo session was over; Chet skidded to a halt at the front door and stood, shivering, waiting for me to let him in.
I draped my parka over him and he settled down for a long winter's nap.
Happy birthday, sweet Chet Baker. We love you, Miracle Dog.