Porterhouse is so funny. Whereas Moe goes into vogue-mode the instant I pull out the camera, I think Porter takes a perverse pleasure in looking ever-so-perfect--the wind blowing through her fur, her coat glowing red in the sun--until I pull out the camera. At which point she turns tail and refuses to look at me.
But today she let me get off one shot at least...and then stuck her tongue out at me, the little brat!
And speaking of Mr. Photogenic, here he is after almost an hour of icy tennis ball fetching (again in full color, half color, and black and white). I can't imagine how cold his mouth must have gotten. When we headed home he had icicles in his beard.