hawkeyowa: (stfu i'm beautiful)
[It's not hard to tell that things have gotten tense in the Midwest, starting with protests in Wisconsin, and now coming to protests in Iowa. In lieu of it, Jack has decided to take as much of the edge off as he can, in the form of bundling himself up and toting a sled up the highest hill in town, Mitch loyally at his side and far too excited for his own good.

Yes, the hill is a bit daunting, and he'll probably end up with his fair share of bruises and humiliation by nightfall, but it should be worth it in the end. One he gets to the top, he poses momentarily like a king about to take on an opposing kingdom. He is Macduff, ready to teach Macbeth a lesson. He is William Wallace sans face paint and kilt, replaced with a beanie and jeans. He is Napoleon, Alexander, and Caesar all in one tall, skinny, farm boy form. He has his mighty companion barking and rolling in the snow at his side. This hill is his battlefield, his Tannenburg and Hastings and Antietam all in one.

As he finally sits on his sled and pushes, he flies down the hill with a mighty screech of questionable masculinity battle cry, his dog running after him and barking happily.
]
hawkeyowa: (You're something else entirely.)
[It might seem like a perfectly normal sight. Jack in a winter coat walking Mitch along a path in a snow-filled park. The dog barking at everything that resembles a squirrel. Jack stopping to sit down on a bench for a moment, working on tying a loose lace on his boot. Well, that's as far as the normal gets, because hanging from his other wrist is a little pink line, and if one is to follow it, it would lead down to one very tiny white mustelid, who would almost blend into the snow if it wasn't for a very pink ferret-sized sweater and a very pink harness and leash. While Jack hums to himself and ties his boot, she gets busy tunneling in snow drifts and appearing somewhere else, no worse for the wear, with a pile of snow on her head and nose.

It's all rather cute, but it's slightly disturbing to see a grown man and a manly-looking dog walking with a tiny sweater-clad ferret. Bless what ever makes you happy, you could probably suppose?
]

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Jack Ellis

February 2011

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