Spud used to be the life and soul of the party and has been coming on our annual fishing week for 15 years. He's now a grumpy old man, is half blind and deaf, and aches all over. He hasn't given up yet though.
Nice shot of him looking right at you. Interesting thing for me is that we had a dog named Spud. He was a red lab and we lived in Idaho where potatoes are called spuds. My Uncle thought his color was like the potato fresh out of the ground.
Spud is the spitting image of Ellis, a dog belonging to the island's best gardener (who has been helping me in mine this year). Ellis has been coming to visit but was recently banished to the car for misbehaving among the newly planted sprouts.
