abigailblog

Link to the slideshow I presented in class:

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1PKVX707fe_uruGaGkwvC1q-p84sO60bXg98yvKid54o/edit?usp=sharing

The goal of this assignment was to combine communication strategies. There was the visual element through photography, the written element with the essay, the oral aspect because of our presentation, nonverbal communication through your presence in front of the class, and electronic communication through our blogging. The project combined all the skills we have been working to sharpen through the semester. The defining feature of this genre is the combination of communication strategies. I tried to use this to my advantage by taking pictures that supported my words and presenting them in a calm, collected manner to not distract from my work.

My purpose was to combine a topic I love, dogs, with personal details about my life to craft a cohesive story. I considered my audience when choosing my tone. I was presenting to a group of my peers, so I chose a more conversational approach that let me share a bit about who I am as a person. If I had more time, I would like to have edited the words a bit more. My goal was to have a very authentic voice come through, but I think there were a few areas that could benefit from slight refining.

Dear Santa, for Christmas this year I would love a dog. One just like my grandma’s dog Dr. Harry.

Dear Santa, I was thinking I would like a Poodle. I heard their hypoallergenic. I think Dad would like a Poodle.

Dear Santa, If you can’t bring a dog, how about a hamster? I just read a book about a hamster named Humphry. Humphry was no dog, but I think I could be very happy with a hamster.

Dear Santa, when you bring my perfect puppy, I promise to pick up lots of poop from the yard.

The day after thanksgiving, is the official start of the Christmas season in the Mullin family. We spend the morning trudging through the cold Christmas tree farm on the hunt for the specimen. The evening is dedicated to decorating the tree with the plethora of goofy ornaments my parents have collected for more than twenty years.

I was eight, and after hanging the last ornament I dashed up to my room to begin a vital top-secret project. I whipped out my pen and paper to begin writing: Dear Santa. Until Christmas eve, I would produce countless letters on my crusade for a dog. At my height, I wrote multiple times a week to the north pole, and faithfully Santa returned every letter. I became so enthralled in the process that I asked if Santa was in the market for a pen pal. Looking back, writing Santa letters had become a part-time job for my dear mother.

I tried my hardest to suppress any expectations, but as the twenty-fifth approached I became giddy. Christmas day arrived, and I waited with baited breadth at the top of the stairs. As I descended, my heart dropped. There was no wagging tail or fuzzy face. I put on my best not at all disappointed face and sat down around the tree surrounded by family. When nearly the last present had been opened, I spied an unassuming envelope situated off to the side.

Dear Abigail, I have talked to your parents, and they have decided that your family could use a four-legged friend, a Vizsla. I felt like Ralphie discovering his red rider bb gun in The Christmas Story.

We wouldn’t pick up Puddle till September. Those nine months felt eternal, but since laying my eyes on that wrinkly ginger puppy, I have been obsessed with her.

 (show napping picture)

Leaving for College, the fear of homesickness never occurred to me. I had no shortage of worries ranging from anxiety about college course work to concerns about making new friends. The one element of home I truly miss is Puddle. I appreciate the random photos of her my family will send, but it’s no replacement for napping on the couch together.

(Next Slide- outfit one)

At first, I was ashamed to admit that I missed my dog more than my parents. What kind of person feels that way? It boils down to the idea of leaving. She is one of the only things I truly left behind. Between post cards, Facetime, messages, and WhatsApp, I don’t feel profoundly disconnected from my life in Pittsburgh. Taking these photographs has been a source of connection with this element of home I have left behind.

Talking to strangers made me apprehensive, but I quickly came to appreciate the ease of these conversations. Speaking to someone on a topic they love is remarkable. For a moment, a stranger lets you into their world.

(Go to next slide – rusty + bowdie)

With Rusty’s owner, we bonded over our adoration for ginger dogs. When I approached Bowdie and Phil, I was surprised by the softness Phil embodied.

(Next slide – luna & phoebe)

Hearing about Luna’s owner who is a busy Oxford PhD, I appreciated the way communities show up for each other. Meeting Pheobe, I was viscerally remined of time with my mom. Not a feeling of homesickness but one of love and nostalgia.

(Next slide – Turf)

I began to spot the small signs of dogs within the Oxford community. Like water bowls and free treats.

(Next slide- Blackwells)

(Next slide- Bernie and Lincoln)

Dachshunds are my favorite breed, and I was determined to find one to include in my project. I spied them out the window of a Chipotle and dashed out of the restaurant to meet them.

(Next slide Nya)

While I was inspired by something that I miss, taking these pictures has forced me to appreciate the wonderful people, places, and dogs right here in Oxford.

Potential Approaches

I saw Lincoln and Bernie out the Chipotle window. I had my eyes peeled for a wiener dog to include in my collection of photos, and they were just perfect. I snatched my camera and dashed out, abandoning my bowl.

“Excuse me, excuse me. I’m working on a piece featuring dogs and their owners. Can I take your picture”

I adore Dachshunds. I have t-shirts and posters of them on my walls. I have my future dachshund’s names picked out: Swamp and Bog. My first dog’s name is Puddle, and I want to keep with the uncommon water theme.  

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Dear Santa. Between November and December of third grade, I opened countless letters just like that. I was writing multiple letters a week at my peak. I asked Santa if he would like to be my pen pal. In each correspondence, I begged and pleaded for a dog. When I walked down the staircase Christmas morning to no puppy, I was heartbroken. How could Santa have failed me. It turned out he hadn’t. In an unassuming envelope, I opened a note promising to get a dog in the next year. Next September, my family drove two hours to pick up Puddle.

I expected to miss more than I have since leaving home. I love my family, friends, Pittsburgh, and my own blankets. I cherish calls with my parents and friends, but they don’t elicit feelings of homesickness like I expected. I am excited to hear about the wonderful happenings in their lives. One element of home I miss is Puddle. Puddle is my first dog, a ten-year-old Vizsla. We can’t call or text, so I’m just left to remember her silky ginger fur.