Jeans, running.

Last week, I was lucky enough to be shooting at our great friend Janna’s horse farm.  A beautiful place that’s all rolling hills and open fields and big sky.

And to see the joy on her dogs’ faces as they would run and run and run all over the place.  Leaping through tall grass, weeds whipping their faces.  Tongues flung and flying by the wayside.

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Jeans doesn’t have many opportunities to experience such freedom.

Our yard isn’t properly fenced and we live on a busy street.  Our house is an old Victorian row house with intimate rooms and narrow hallways.  By the time she picks up any real speed, she has to put on the brakes.

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There’s a school yard just a block from our place.  The sign on the fence reads no dogs allowed but we see dogs there sometimes.  I think it’s more about keeping the grass clean for the kids to roll around in.  Makes sense.

But today the field was empty and we both know how much she loves to run.

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So.  We let her run.

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