Expat Magazine

Behind the Photos XVI

By Sara Louise @cestmoisaralou
This edition of Behind the Photos could pretty much be called, Fifty: Behind the Photos. For some bizarre reason, just about every photo I took in the early months of 2011 featured Fifty. I guess that's all that was happening in Le Petit Village at the time... F I F T Y. (What can I say, winters in The LPV were notoriously boring.)
Behind the Photos XVIOne of Fifty's favorite things is to be picked up and cuddled like a baby and luckily for him, Gregory likes to indulge him. Fifty has no concept of his size, in his mind, he's just a rough and tumble Chihuahua. 
Behind the Photos XVIOne can start to go a bit stir crazy when living on top of a small, snow covered mountain in the middle of nowhere and that stir craziness can result in some pretty ridiculous behavior, like making your dog wear socks, you know, for giggles. This was not one of Fifty's favorites. 
Behind the Photos XVIBehind the Photos XVIAnother fun way to pass the time when there is NOTHING happening... pillow fights with your dog. Fifty may be feisty but due to his lack of opposable thumbs, I usually win. This particular pillow fight was in our bedroom in the second house we lived in in The LPV. The room was basically the size of a queen bed, that's it. There was like a foot of space on the left hand side of the bed, while the other side was pushed up against the wall. When I got into bed at night, I would just throw myself on top of it and  in the mornings, wiggle out of it. It was pretty ridiculous for a room, but for things like pillow fights, it was awesome, because it was kind of like a wrestling ring since the room was all mattress. God I was happy to move out of that place. 
Behind the Photos XVIBehind the Photos XVIBehind the Photos XVIBehind the Photos XVIAw, Vicky, a face only a mother could love... Fifty's friend, Vicky, used to come over everyday (may she rest in peace, sweet, sweet girl) for a treat or to play. She'd just show up at the front door and they'd stare at each other through the glass. If I didn't open the door fast enough, Vicky would try and open it herself. As long as it was unlocked, she could, and either she'd come in, or Fifty would run out. But if it was locked, Fifty would give me the saddest puppy dog eyes until I opened it. Like I could ever say no to that face.

Back to Featured Articles on Logo Paperblog