When a painting of mine was juried into the Oakville show, a friend came over to me at the reception and complimented me on the work; then she held up a 14 inch specimen and said: " I hope you don't mind, but I removed the hair."
Jewell, our beloved girl will live on in every work I did in oil. Even five months later, a hair will drift by as I'm working. But I am getting dog-hungrier by the day. I go walking mainly for the opportunity to touch a dog. There is a photo circulating which purports to be that of me in a dog crate. Well, maybe I was trying to make friends with that dog. And maybe she left the crate immediately. And maybe I was having a bit of trouble exiting. For any of you women who might have mistakenly walked into a men's washroom, you will recall that it is a lot easier to walk in than to walk out while maintaining one's dignity. Dog crates are no different, it turns out.
So here I am, a pathetic "dog-slut," as my beloved affectionately calls me. We're looking, but Skye terriers are so rare as to be endangered as a breed. Admittedly, Jewell was murder to paint (because you could never find her eyes, which are the key to a portrait) but we had faith that they were under there somewhere. Her Mickey Mouse ears still enchant. Their nickname "The Heavenly Breed" was true. How lucky we were to know and love her for eleven years. But another Skye may not be in the cards.
So if you hear of a medium-sized terrier - a cairn or a Westie or a mix, for example - with a calm temperament, make us your first call. PLEASE.
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