Marilyn says I have to write this part myself, so here goes. I'm not much for computers. I climbed telephone poles for thirty-five years. But I've taken eight of these cards now, nine come December, and here's what I know.

1. Pick your day and stick to it. We do ours on a Sunday afternoon in early December. Monday morning the film goes to the drugstore. Wait till the middle of the month and you'll be standing in line behind half of town.

2. Use the self-timer. Camera on the tripod, frame it up, set the timer, and you've got both hands free. One for the squeaky toy, one for the treat. That's the whole reason to have a self-timer, as far as I'm concerned.

3. Squeaky toy, right above the camera. Hold it over the lens and squeak it once. The dog looks up at the noise, and now he's looking at the camera. Once, I said. Squeak it five times and he comes over to get it, and you've got a nice picture of the carpet.

4. Treats. Little ones, and plenty of them. Keep them in your shirt pocket. If they're in your hand the dog stares at your hand, and that's your picture. And don't do it right after his supper. A full dog doesn't work.

5. Get down on his level. The top of a dog's head is not a Christmas card. Get on the floor if you have to. My knees have opinions about this. I don't listen to them in December.

6. Take a whole roll. Every one of our cards has been about a roll of film. One good picture in a roll is a good day. The Santa hat took thirty-one tries. I took a thirty-second to be safe and he ate the pompom. So there is such a thing as one too many. Not often.

7. Flash, even outside. Out in the yard at sundown the lights on the saguaro look fine and the dog comes out a dark lump. Put the flash on the dog. The lights take care of themselves.

8. Props: light and soft. I made the antlers in '96 out of brown felt and an old headband. Nothing with wire that can poke him, nothing heavy, nothing that dangles in his face. A dog will wear a hat for about four seconds. Plan around the four seconds.

9. Short sessions. Ten minutes, then let him go lie down. Then ten more. He can tell when you're getting fed up, so don't.

10. Never put a dog near a real cactus. I mean it. Not for one picture, not for one minute. We don't discuss 1995 in this house, so don't ask.

11. Order doubles. Somebody always wants an extra.

That's it. If you try it, send Marilyn the picture. She's the one who runs the e-mail. And good luck, though you'll need the treats more than the luck.

-- Billy