This is a photo I took in March and it was such a lucky shot. I love it to pieces, even the fish are included in the background!
Judah is the larger dog, Israel is the APBT, Omaha is obviously the cat. Aren’t they beautiful?
The fish are all goldfish–a large (chubby) chocolate Oranda named Milk Mud, a calico fantail named Bealltainn, a red ranchu called Reiko and a feisty calico Oranda dubbed Stabler after Detective Elliot Stabler on Law & Order: SVU.

Lately I’ve realized that I don’t daydream anymore. Isn’t that odd? I used to always get lost in my thoughts and fantasies. That was before I got a dog. And that was all I obsessed about until I got her. I wanted a dog for SO long and only got one when I was already eighteen. It wasn’t easy at first but now it’s so natural I couldn’t even begin to imagine life without her. I would simply die.
Before I got a dog I read romance novels non-stop. I would take out twenty books at a time from the library, my messenger bag overflowing, barely able to close. I would read them all within a week. I had a lot of spare time.
I haven’t read a book in years. I used to write all the time. I used to be able to at least start a story. Now I can’t think of a darn thing to say. I never date, I’ve never been hit on, I’ve never been kissed. Eight years ago when I was twelve/thirteen that really bothered me, or at least that’s what the pages in an old diary say. I can’t picture myself ever thinking or saying those things.
I never bothered trying to get a boyfriend or even a date and it’s not like anyone was beating down my door to get at me! I don’t find myself attractive at all so I don’t expect anyone else to, either. And I’m fine with that!
I prefer my singleness, my spinster status, if you will. It’s comfortable. I have my dogs, my cat, and my fish. I love them all. I would rather spend my day with the dogs than with anyone else on earth…well, except Gerard Butler or Michael Phelps fresh from the swimming pool. But let’s be realistic!
I recently read in a magazine (specifically Redbook) that people who were told to fantasize about spending the rest of their life with someone, to daydream about who it would be and what would happen made them more creative. I used to think about it ALL THE TIME. So I decided to try that technique to attempt to be more creative and start writing something.
Within ten or fifteen seconds of letting my mind wander I start thinking about a guy who hunts. He would hunt deer and other wild game so I could feed my dogs raw meat. I would be able to get more dogs. I pictured butchering the various animals, bagging them up into different meals and then pictured my pack of dogs devouring it all happily. And then ten minutes have gone by playing out this daydream and I’ve pretty much completely forgotten the guy and it’s all about dogs.
Is that healthy? I don’t know. At least I admit what I actually think about.

I had this great epiphany nearly a year ago during the afternoon, sitting in the back of a car, staring out the window. It was approaching sundown and it was a rather lovely day out.
I thought to myself, “I need to become a photographer. I need to go to school and learn and then be able to say [my name] and I’m a professional photographer.”
Nevermind I didn’t drive, I hadn’t gone to school since the 8th grade, and didn’t have any money.
I still attempted to go after this “epiphany”. I prayed. A lot. And every door seemed to open on it’s own, ushering me through it. Easy as pie, right?
Wrong.
In May the dream got snuffed out.
“I can wait,” I told myself. It was fine.
I did a few jobs…a wedding, a magazine, that godawful kids thing…I try to forget about that.
Then I let my camera collect dust and didn’t feel the need or desire to pick it up. What else was there to photograph? Boring. I got my license, a job, a car, and free time. It didn’t matter. I still didn’t pick the camera up.
I have this great job. It’s fine for now, I get paid more than I need to, and the perks are amazing. It’s perfect, perfect, perfect. I love it. But I don’t want to be doing this in five years. I don’t think I want to do something better or more ambitious…I doubt I will. Perhaps just retail, and hopefully as long as this lasts I can save my money and have enough to count on when I don’t make as much.
And I don’t want to be a photographer anymore. At least, not professionally. I guess I’ll do what my dad does with his wedding cakes–he’s great at it, but his skill level stopped at a certain point because learning/developing more was unnecessary for what he does. So whenever someone we know gets married they ask my parents, “Can Milenko do our cake?” and instead of spending $500 or more on a piece of crap cake that tastes like shortening and sponges, they get a free cake that tastes like heaven and everyone can’t shut up about how great it was–beautiful AND delicious.
Yeah, that’s what I want to do with my photography. I’ll have the tools I need, nothing more, I’ll keep experimenting (I did take some classes but they were useless and I was the best and it wasn’t what I was expecting) for myself and for my friends. So when they get married, or have a baby, or want pictures of their cat or dog in silly outfits for the holidays or just because, they’ll know who to call, and it won’t cost them an arm and a leg for the same quality that they would pay thousands for. As long as the art can pay for itself–I charge just enough to cover the equipment–then I’ll keep doing it.
My mom is the same way. Need a handmade baby quilt for cheap? Sure! Matching bumpers, pillows, etc. Heirlooms, keepsakes, and either for free or for dirt cheap–and better quality than you would pay hundreds for.
Perhaps that’s our mission in life. To be really, really good (or at least try) at something specific and then let our friends and family enjoy something they’d otherwise miss out on because they couldn’t afford it.

So no. I don’t want to be a professional photographer. I don’t want to be famous. I want to get by enjoying life, having enough talent for my friends and family when they need me, and making sure Judah lives for another twenty years. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

Maybe I will go to university for something. Like classes in animal nutrition, but not taught by pet food companies. Independent, nonpartisan studies. And religion. All kinds.
I want to learn, but not for a career. I don’t want a career.
And I don’t want to worry about being married by a certain age, or ever. I want a family. I want to adopt. But I want a child of my own if it’s possible. For some reason I can’t picture myself ever being romantically involved with anyone–male or female. I can’t imagine kissing someone or holding their hand or everything else.

Judah’s asleep with her tongue sticking out just a little bit.
I love her.