This was a standard shot anytime a dog was given a contract. Some poor studio exec had to show up for a staged shot of the dog examining the legal particulars. This gentleman cannot hide his gnawing depression, his black bleak realization that for all his training, all his schooling, all his connections - my God, he had lunch with Hearst once! - he’s the guy the big boys called when they needed an exec to pose with the goddamn dog.

The dog is interested, possibly because they have placed a dead mole or cat feces on the page, out of sight of the camera.