dogs have style

My friend Tara M (Robin and Finchy's mom) loves the modern design blog Design*Sponge. I'm glad she does, because she's clued me in to all kinds of excellent off-the-beaten-track things and ideas, and the inexhaustible cleverness of people is bonus inspiration.

But you know, accessorize and thriftshop how you will, I always said a pet makes a home. So I was thrilled when Tara showed me the "Sneak Peek: Best of Dogs" feature at Design Sponge. Have a look at a LOT of fun decor set off perfectly by the resident canines, each one a glorious design in and of itself. You need this after a long day back at work. Go!

company for a widow

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"Die Witwe," the caption reads - "The widow." She and her cat were captured in colored chalk by Heinrich Zille (1858-1929). Though it's undated, this tragicomic study is part of Zille's life work portraying the poorer classes around him in Berlin. He did so with humor and respect as he watched them struggle against unforgiving socioeconomic odds, but yet never quite giving up. You see our widow here believes enough in living to keep a little friend.

a running hare

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Pisanello (Italian, c. 1395 - c. 1455) is better known for works with a bit of pageantry in them: jewels, pomp, well detailed luxury. That ability for detail didn't desert him when it came to such a simple thing as a running hare (this one is in the Louvre's collection). The elegance is here too in the animal's elongation. It's almost more of an idea of a hare's speed and movement, rather than a strictly accurate portrayal. Last, but by no means least - look at the appraising eye. (Probably this was done from a deceased model, so he had to create that all by himself.) Pisanello, for all his delicacy and love of rich materials, was somehow able to spot and capture an arresting soulfulness in creatures. You might see a bit of that among the info here. Look for the detail of St. George's horse.

"humanizing the dog"

That is the title of the short magazine piece below. I'm assuming it was meant to make readers chuckle, and that's the primary reason I'm sharing it with you. However, while you're at it - can you guess around when it was written? After all, it has a startlingly modern idea of what we're trying to give our doggy buddies. I know I couldn't have guessed. The answer's at the bottom.

* * *

If humanity is deteriorating-—degenerating, as a certain school of writers would have us believe—it is comforting to reflect that the canine race is being rapidly educated up to such a height that mankind will soon necessarily step aside to make place for the genus cants. We have seen the dog blanketed and bedecked in silk and silver plate, his neck resplendent with gold filigree and gems, and now the dog bracelet has been added to the other agencies for humanizing man's four footed friend. These bracelets are worn on one, two, or three of the dear creature's ankles, according to the whim of its mistress. They are frequently of the most costly design, even sparkling with small diamonds.

We shall have shoemakers and tailors next, whose sole duty it will be to cater to the wants of our friend and contemporary the dog. Already the trunk makers, appreciating the importance of his dogship's good will, have produced elaborate designs of dog trunks and dog satchels. These satchels are works of art. They are made of the finest leather, with silver mountings, and any dog with an artistic eye would be glad to possess one. If your pet happens to have outgrown satchels, you may present him with a trunk. This is like an ordinary human being's trunk, except that there are breathing holes through it, for of course your pet travels inside. He may be incased in a sole leather trunk, a wicker trunk, or a plain wooden one, according to his taste, and the condition of his finances.

The adornment of the dog and his happiness and convenience at home and abroad having been attended to, we must provide for his social advancement. We must make him feel at home in the drawing room; we must not only entertain him, but we must make him entertain us, so that his perfect social equality with us may be promoted. To this end we should discourage purely canine sports, and invite our four legged friends to participate in manly pastimes. A good precedent in this line was happily established in one of our larger cities recently, by bringing to bear the peculiarly humanizing influence of that great modern institution, the prize fight. Other educational methods having been exhausted upon the pet dogs present, two of these were induced to fight each other for the edification of the assemblage, after the example so ably set for dogs in general at Carson City not long ago.

In these and many other ways much is being done by our thoughtful generation toward humanizing the dog. Mothers of mediocre intelligence devote themselves to the care of their children, but women of surpassing mentality leave such trivial domestic annoyances in the hands of servants, and devote themselves with commendable forethought to the education and ennobling of our Friend and Successor, the Dog.

From Munsey's Magazine, 1897 vol. 17 pp. 471-72

a bold rabbit

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Does this style look familiar? This is another illustration by Boris Artzybasheff for the 1922 book Verotchka's Tales, in this case for "The Story of a Bold Rabbit with Cock Eyes and a Short Tail."
"This rabbit was born in the woods," the story begins,

and was scared of everything. If a branch cracked anywhere or a bird flew past or a lump of snow fell from a tree, his rabbit heart went down, down, down into his furry boots. Now this little rabbit was afraid for a day, for two days, for a week, for a whole year. But when he was grown up, he just got tired of being a scared rabbit.

"I am not afraid of anybody!" he shouted through the woods. "I am not afraid at all! I am not afraid of anything or of anybody, and that's all there is to it!"

And how did that work for him? You may read that for yourself here.

a little dog finds a sweet spot

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This small fellow seems slightly overwhelmed by the sheer masses of flowers surrounding him. In fact, when I first spotted this work, it was a momentary challenge to even find him. When at last I did, the impulse to step in there and sit with him on my lap was overwhelming. This is a "Corner of a Garden with Small Dog" (Rincon de jardin con perrito) by the Spanish Baroque painter Tomas Yepes (c. 1595 - 1674). Yepes was from Valencia and best known for his bodegones, or still lifes of kitchen and pantry items. This work differs slightly in that the entire garden corner is treated as a floral still life. The dog of course isn't so still by nature, but bodegones often do include figures. I think he adds a wistfulness and heart to the piece.

vintage photo time

once again, thanks to ampersand's magic bulk bin

I wish so much that I knew the story behind this snap.

the ship's cat speaks

I can’t talk long. My duty’s never done:
Masts to be marked, untested rays of sun,
Spills to be sniffed at, lapped up or rejected,
Men to be watched, tribute to be collected --
The lump of pork, the scratch between the ears.
So begins a poem by Museum friend Laura Brown, which she has posted over at her excellent blog A Number of Things.
I may go up, if no one interferes,
To the place where I can see my whole domain.
They call it crow’s nest, liars. Still, I’ve lain
Nowhere with greater pleasure. It awakes
The kitten in me when the ocean shakes.
If you've been a Museum friend for a while you know how fond I am of celebrating the creatures that serve among soldiers and sailors, holding their own jobs and cheering those around them. When I read Laura's "The Ship's Cat" a few days ago I wrote asking if I might share it with you all. No sooner had she said yes than Blogger did whatever that was (did your comment get lost? I wish you'd post it again if so).
So, since we seem to be up and running again, I want to send you on a visit to A Number of Things, where you can read the entire poem. It made me want to take Elizabeth to the beach again (she's already been once).

mm, milk and cereal

wikimedia commons [public domain]

This avid kitten made my morning: I was doing a quick search for something with a bit of fire to it, and found this illustration by Boris Artzybasheff. Done for Dmitry Mamin-Sibiryak's 1922 book Verotchka's Tales, the piece illustrates "The Story of Little Milk, Little Cereal, and Gray Kitten, Moorka." You may read that tale here at Project Gutenberg.

I can't help but love how Artzybasheff made this creature so sly and so cuddly at the same time. Well, the two are not mutually exclusive. As we all know.

1895: the dog that buried the frogs

From a collection dated 1895 of letters to the Spectator (UK) magazine: a puzzled reader asks about their dog's very odd habit; someone else helpfully chimes in. All the more curious when you realize the Spectator was/is a current affairs magazine. "Current affairs" must have had a much more elastic definition in 1895 Britain.

* * *
THE DOG THAT BURIED THE FROGS.

[Feb. 2, 1895.] Knowing your love of animals, and the interest so often shown in your columns in their ways, I venture to send you the following story I have lately heard from an eyewitness, and to ask whether you or any of your readers can throw any light upon the dog's probable object. The dog in question was a Scotch terrier. He was one day observed to appear from a corner of the garden carrying in his mouth, very gently and tenderly, a live frog. He proceeded to lay the frog down upon a flower-bed, and at once began to dig a hole in the earth, keeping one eye upon the frog to see that it did not escape. If it went more than a few feet from him, he fetched it back, and then continued his work. Having dug the hole a certain depth, he then laid the frog, still alive, at the bottom of it, and promptly scratched the loose earth back into the hole, and friend froggy was buried alive! The dog then went off to the corner of the garden, and returned with another frog, which he treated in the same way. This occurred on more than one occasion; in fact, as often as he could find frogs he occupied himself in burying them alive. Now dogs generally have some reason for what they do. What can have been a dog's reason for burying frogs alive? It does not appear that he ever dug them up again to provide himself with a meal. If, sir, you or any of your readers can throw any light on this curious, and for the frogs most uncomfortable, behaviour of my friend's Scotch terrier, I should be very much obliged. -- R. Acland-Troyte

AN EXPLANATION.

[Feb. 9, 1895-] I think I can explain the puzzle of the Scotch terrier and his interment of the frogs, for the satisfaction of your correspondent. A friend of mine had once a retriever who was stung by a bee, and ever afterwards, when the dog found a bee near the ground, she stamped on it, and then scraped earth over it and buried it effectually—presumably to put an end to the danger of further stings. In like manner, another dog having bitten a toad, showed every sign of having found the mouthful to the last degree unpleasant. Probably Mr. Acland-Troyte's dog had, in the same way, bitten a toad, and conceived henceforth that he rendered public service by putting every toad-like creature he saw carefully and gingerly "out of harm's way," underground. -- Frances Power Cobbe

From Dog Stories from the "Spectator" Being Anecdotes of the Intelligence, Reasoning Power, Affection and Sympathy of Dogs, Selected from the Correspondence Columns of "The Spectator." Introduction by J. St. Loe Strachey. (New York: Macmillan and Co., 1895) pp. 157-159.

vintage photo time

i think i bought this one in seattle somewhere in fremont

Here's another snap for which I haven't one bit of background, but that is a splendid shadow. Not a bad puppy either.

public service announcement: i want

And I want to thank Minnesota's AnimalHumaneSociety.org for inviting me to post this video. By the way - my own Baci was a pound kitty, so I'm here to swear that you can find a beloved friend there.

meet eva hovelsrod

image copyright and by kindest permission of eva hovelsrod 2011

Bedugget! It's Norwegian for "bedewed," which also means "slightly drunk." Would you like a few more of these fun language lessons? Then visit Eva Hovelsrod's Etsy shop, where a bevy of cats show you what it is to be bedekket, or tilsidesatt, or oppstemt.

When I asked her how these jolly works came to be, Eva wrote me:

I came up with these one night, doodling up a few simple cats with various looks. I arrived at the concept of using words with a dual meaning, particularly where one meaning describes an emotion and the other something physical, expressing the physical part via a cat. I think it works well but I haven't come up with a lot of good words. I was inspired by a Norwegian artist called Gunilla Holm Platou. (She does similar things with cows.) I have worked with watercolors mostly through creative journalling. I love the way it looks, even as simple as this. Or maybe particularly as simple as this.Other than that, I absolutely love the work of Tadahiro Uesugi - he did the concept art for the Coraline movie.

I for one cannot wait to see what other words Eva's cats can teach me.

Update: my husband walked by and said, "Those are cute! I want one!"

a poem for older dogs

The dog and I are both grown old;
On these wild downs we watch all day;
He looks in my face when the wind blows cold,
And thus methinks I hear him say:

'The grey stone circlet is below,
The village smoke is at our feet;

We nothing hear but the sailing crow,
And wandering flocks, that roam and bleat.

Far off the early horseman hies,
In shower or sunshine rushing on;

Yonder the dusty whirlwind flies;
The distant coach is seen and gone.

Though solitude around is spread,
Master, alone thou shalt not be;

And when the turf is on thy head,
I only shall remember thee!'

I marked his look of faithful care,
I placed my hand on his shaggy side:
'There is a sun that shines above,
A sun that shines on both, ' I cried.

- "Grown Old Together," by Bowles, found in The Dog in British Poetry, p. 244-5. I believe the Bowles referred to is actually Caroline Bowles (1786-1854), who later married the poet Robert Southey. The tender thoughtfulness of this piece stood out in a poetry collection that tends toward very talky selections.

'A sun that shines on both.' Ah.