dr. seuss' dogs and other tidbits

I can always count on the Guardian online to offer up something interesting.  Here's what I found today without even trying:
Photoessay on Dr. Seuss's dogs, including his childhood pet Rex, who sometimes decided to walk on three of his four feet
In Japan, the Kofukuji temple provides funerals for defunct Aibo robot dogs.  Love is where you find it.
I don't know Britt Collins, but we feel a lot alike about cats.
Barbra Streisand cloned her dog - twice!  Did you know that?
Why are kittens so cute? No, seriously, inquiring minds want to know.

the museum of ordinary animals

thanks pixabay

"The boring beasts that changed the world," runs the subtitle of this exhibit at London's Grant Museum of Zoology.  Think of it: when's the last time you visited a natural history museum and saw a chicken?  A dog?  Even (and this was a hotly contested inclusion, it seems) frogs? 
Why would you need to go to a museum to see these critters when they're everywhere around you?  The answer isn't so much about seeing as rethinking.  The Grant Museum's doing the natural-science version of what I do here at The Pet Museum: examining the impacts they have had on our world and our cultures.  Upcoming discussions, if you're lucky enough to be over on that side, are: "Is It OK to be a Cat Guy?" "Rats," and "Cats Broke the Internet."
Atlas Obscura has a bit more on it here.  (A word of warning: Nature science means specimens.  There are skulls, mummies, a preserved kitten.)

the pet as messenger - article

thanks pixabay (PD)

Your friendly curator is wrapping up some editing for a freelance client and will be back to her usual post within the week!  But till then, have a look at this thought-provoking article from 2013 by Miles Klee: "Pet Cemetery: Pets and the Great Beyond."  Here's a quote from Klee's consideration of dogs: ". . . no other animal so aptly demonstrates how the soul and destiny of human civilization is bound up with the rest of nature." Good, right? You'll like the rest.

the lively lines of julie pfirsch

copyright and by kindest permission of the artist

Julie Pfirsch once wanted to be a dog when she grew up.  When I read that on her website, I knew I'd found the real deal:  she decided to be an artist instead, and bring all that excellence of dog soul to her energetic, well crafted and vibrant pet portraits.  (Here's her Instagram too.)  This pittie portrait, above, was the first to catch my eye with its disciplined knowledge of dog anatomy, yet the bright strikes of color give it motion and verve.  A glimpse of her Etsy shop shows more examples.  Most of them are in colored pencil, with a soft and layered feel to the color.  You'll see she also works in acrylics, bolder and brighter, and in oils for a stately and timeless capturing.
I keep looking at the portrait above with such pleasure; I want to throw a ball for him, as he seems so very ready to go.
http://www.juliepfirsch.com/
https://www.instagram.com/paintmyfaceoff/

early christmas cards

The Miriam and Ira D. Wallach Division of Art, Prints and Photographs: Print Collection, The New York Public Library. Christmas cards depicting young girls with cats, chicken, and dolls. Retrieved from http://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47db-c102-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99

These are publisher's proofs found in the collection of the New York Public Library.  The publisher, Louis Prang (American; 1824-1909) was the head of the Boston-based firm Louis Prang & Co.; he is credited with being the first publisher of Christmas cards.  No date available on these, but they're considered as being typically Victorian in their idealized portrayal of these flaxen-haired little girls with dolls and pets.  Bet you'd never seen a Christmas chicken before!  

If these were early Christmas cards, no wonder we don't see all the holiday stuff we're used to: holly, Santa, trees, red and green.  I think that had yet to come as expected imagery.  Still pretty cute and full of the giving spirit of the season.

monkey business

...That's the name of a chapter in East of the Andes and West of Nowhere: A Naturalist's Wife in Colombia, by Nancy Bell Bates.  This memoir of years spent with her husband Marston Bates in Villavicencio, Colombia is warm, chatty, full of appreciation for the life they lived there and their work studying animals known and previously unknown.  An assemblage of unusual pets is a given in such a life; here's a few of her memories on the monkeys who came to stay.
***
The cebus, so common here, are known as "maizeros" or "corn stealers." Anyone who has followed a hurdy-gurdy a few blocks knows what they look like. One of them, Roberta, took an intense dislike to the rhesus monkeys, and when chained near their cage spent her whole time throwing stones, banana peels, and anything else she could lay hands on at them, along with her insults. She even tore some of the screening off the side of the animal house one day when her chain was too long. Of course there was heavy wire netting back of the screening, but the rhesus were very much upset about it. In her heyday, before she outreached herself, Roberta was allowed to run loose. I think what led to her being permanently chained was that she grabbed the glasses off a gentleman's nose one day, carried them up to the top of a bamboo, and then dropped them. Or perhaps it was because she took his boots up and left them there.We have had many saimiri because they have turned out to be such good experimental subjects*, and they make lovely pets. They are dainty little things, and the local name of "titi" just seems to suit them. They have bulbous heads, flaring ears, and tiny faces with muzzles that look as though they had been dipped in ink. The other end of them is black too—the long tail that hangs down as though weighted by the tuft of hair at the end. In between they are the color of pepper, salt, and mustard mixed together. I often watch them nimbly catching flies to eat, or scratching each other's backs.
The woolly monkey makes a nice pet too, although he is rather stupid. He makes me think of a clipped, round ball of black yam, lightly dusted with white sugar. Mournful eyes gaze out of a wrinkled black face so appealingly that I often pick him up and carry him about like a baby, his tail wrapped around my arm. It seems to be the one thing he really enjoys.
Then there are the douroucouli, nocturnal monkeys with big staring eyes, that have earned them the common name of owl monkeys. Like the saimiri they make good laboratory animals. They have very silky soft fur, tails that are not prehensile, and almost no voice at all. At first glance you would not take them for monkeys. Their faces are almost completely furred, therefore rather expressionless, and their hands are like paws. But they are monkeys, all the scientists say so. They make gentle, even affectionate pets.

*Behavioral studies, not invasive medical experiments. - curator
-- Bates, N. Bell Fairchild. (1947). East of the Andes and west of nowhere: a naturalist's wife in Colombia. New York: Scribner. 114-5

le corbu's dog, and other odd fates

Hyperallergic has a list of the odd fates that befell a few pets belonging to big names in the arts.  Longtime Museum friends will have seen a couple before (Goldfleck the Lion, anyone?) but I really hadn't heard - and didn't expect - Le Corbusier's memorial to his dog.  Well, wait.  We ARE talking about Le Corbusier here.  I shouldn't rule out anything.  (No pets harmed - this is all postmortem.)
List is here.

more curious critter wills

I was fascinated by my recent finds of things bequeathed to pets, so I thought I'd keep looking...
 * * *
Goldfish and Flowers
A certain lady left seventy pounds a year for the maintenance of three goldfish, which were to be identified as follows: "one is bigger than the other two, and these latter are to be easily recognized, as one is fat and the other lean." She also made provision for flowers to be placed upon the graves of the gold fish.

Polly wants a Contest
In July last, at Washington, D.C., a will contest was commenced, which involves the life or death of a parrot. It appears Mrs. Ottilie Stock left a will, by the terms of which her parrot was doomed to Oslerization* by the process of chloroform.
Her daughter, Elizabeth Stock, questioned the validity of the will. It seems that Elizabeth was left one dollar in money, two kitchen chairs, two pails and one broom; hence, the will contest. Mrs. Stock, the testatrix, was the mother of one of the men who went to his death on the ill-fated battleship Maine, in the harbor
of Havana.
What behavior induced the death sentence on Polly, is not known.

A Lover of the Canine Race
In the Gazetta del Popolo of Turin, of September 2,1874, is found the following:
"Last week was opened by Zanini, the notary public, the will of a certain L. C, who, after having made a considerable fortune by means of the journal, the Caroccio, disposed of it in the following manner:
" 'I leave to the municipality of Casale an annuity of 1500 lire from the public debt, to be employed in rescuing all the dogs that shall fall into the hands of the civic dog-seizer (accalappiatore).
" 'I leave to my dog Schmid a rent from the public funds of 500 lire annually, to revert after his death to the foundlings of the city.' "

Lucky Dogs
Many valuable bequests have been made to dogs, and other domestic pets. Dr. Christiano, of Venice, left sixty thousand florins for the maintenance of his three dogs, with a condition that, at their death, the sum should be added to the funds of the University of Vienna.

*Oslerization - euthanasia, after Sir William Osler.  Selections from Harris, V. M. 1862-1923 or 4. (1911). Ancient, curious and famous wills. Boston: Little, Brown. 91-99 passim.

bequeathed to a monkey

I found a fascinating older book about wills that had an entire chapter on things left to pets. (Finds like that make me squeal out loud.)  Here's an excerpt.
* * *
. . . In 1828 a testator named Garland bequeathed "to my monkey, my dear and amusing Jacko, the sum of £10 sterling per annum, to be employed for his sole and exclusive use and benefit; to my faithful dog Shock, and my well-beloved cat Tibb, a pension of £5 sterling; and I desire that, in case of the death of either of the three, the lapsed pension shall pass to the other two, between whom it is to be equally divided. On the death of all three the sum appropriated to this purposeshall become the property of my daughter Gertrude, to whom I give this preference among my children, because of the large family she has and the difficulty she finds in bringing them up."
Similar provisions are very common to-day. Gustav Saleman Oppert, professor of Indian tongues, left 150 Pfennige a day for the maintenance of his cats Lottie and Peter. Dr. Bell Taylor, a Nottingham oculist, directed his animals to be kept in comfort. They included four horses, two of which were named Soldier Boy and Dancing Doll, an Aberdeen terrier named Billie, a Persian cat called Fluff, and some fowls. In the sixteenth century names were given to cattle as now they are given to horses or household pets, and such names may profitably be compared with modern equivalents. Richard Bayden, of Kent (1539), left cattle called Ros, Thurst, Coppe, Pryme, Mowse, Calver, Skulle, Gentyll, Bren, and Swallowe; surely a quaint and sweet decade of names.
-- from:  Hall, E. Vine. (1912). The romance of wills and testaments. London: T. Fisher Unwin.- 179-80.  Are those cows' names not excellent?

mongoose as pet, 1907

From the May 11, 1907 issue of "Country-side: a wildlife magazine" comes this letter to the editor about a pet with a thing for egg yolks and warm baths:

Mongoose as Pet.—It may interest your readers to hear of a very fine specimen of the small Indian mongoose which has been an inmate of an Edinburgh suburban home for the last three years. Thuldy was brought home from Bombay three years and a half ago on board one of H. M. (Her Majesty's - curator) cruisers. She was very much teased by the officers and has never regained her confidence in people in general. She never forgets her original owner, though he may be away for many months at a time; she is always ready to welcome him, and allows him to handle her freely. In his absence she is particularly devoted to two other members of the family, always sleeping at the feet of her young master. She has no hutch, the eiderdowns of the house being her cosy corners by day when not basking in the sunshine, or on a tile hearth. She is never tied up, our only care being that she does not go out by herself. There is nothing prettier than to see her frisking about in the garden in the sunshine. A rough-haired fox terrier is her companion pet, and although they can hardly be classed as friends, they live together and give each other a great deal of amusement and exercise. Thuldy is very dainty in her food; bread and milk, a spoonful of cream, and yolk of egg form her chief diet, and tiny bits of cooked meat or fish two or three times a week; cherries and grapes seem her favourite fruit. She is exceedingly inquisitive, and likes to see all and everything that comes in to the house. Thuldy is very fond of being brushed and combed, and thoroughly enjoys a warm bath. She fears nothing but the mowing machine and dinner bell.—P. C. Ranken.

from British Naturalists' Association., British Empire Naturalist's Association. (1905). Country-side: a wildlife magazine. London [etc.]: British Naturalists Association [etc.]. V 4 (1907). 371.

for day of the dead, some greek words on dogs and others gone by

thanks reusable art (PD)

Today we celebrate those we love who have gone to another shore, knowing that as long as we remember them they still stay with us.  The ancient Greeks didn't subscribe to that theory for their dearly departed, but they could still write a plaintive epitaph . . .

By Antipater of Sidon
On a Dog
Lampo, the hound of Midas, died of drought,
Though long and bravely for his life he fought.
His paws dug the moist spot ; but all too slow
Did water from the hidden runlet flow.
Worn out, he fell ; then sprang the fountain clear ;
Nymphs, ye revenged on him your stricken deer.

On an Ant
Busy toilsome hapless ant,
For thy sepulchre I plant
Next the barn a crumbled clod ;
So shall Ceres' fertile sod
Offer thee a rustic bed,
Cheer thee as thou liest dead.

By Tymnes
On a Maltese Dog
A Maltese lies this stone below,
Eumelus' watch-dog, "Bully" hight,
Most trusty friend ; his barking now
Is for the silent ways of night.

By Aristodicus
On a Pet Cicada
No more, shrill cricket, in rich Alkis' court 

Is heard thy voice ; no light of sun for thee.
Now through the meads of Hades dost thou sport
And dewy flowers of Queen Persephone.

Leaf, W. Little poems from the Greek. New York: R.M. McBride & Co., 1922. Pages 56-57, 63,64.

lively, lovely pet obits

Back in July this year, The Guardian invited its readers to submit obituaries in memory of their beloved (and not so beloved) pets.  The published selection includes Julius the shoe-humping tortoise, Guto Dale the dog with perfect funeral manners, and Gary the psycho cannibal goldfish.  All their stories are told simply and vividly by the humans who loved them (or, in Gary's case, dumped him down the toilet).  Worth the feelings...have a read.

the old-school vet, 1924

From the foreword to "Dr. Little's Dog Book" by George Watson Little D.V.M.

...the day of the fat, good-natured, collarless, tobacco-chewing "vet" has almost passed away.  In country districts he used to drive up in a ramshackle buggy hitched to a horse which he had been asked to board. His clothes were more than reminiscent of stable and kennel odors, while his talk was a mixture of hearsay, superstition and guess. His methods were so antiquated and clumsy that the phrase became current, "If you've got a sick animal, let it die in peace, for a vet only kills it, anyhow..."

...In old days a man seldom selected his profession as a veterinary—the job was rather wished upon him because he hadn't much to do or had failed at a number of other things and the neighbors commercialized his willingness. It relieved a farmer's conscience to have somebody sit up with a sick horse while he slept, and it was an office that could be repaid with some potatoes, perhaps. Now a man assumes the practise of canine medicine because he loves it. At least, I did...

from  Little, George Watson. Dr. Little's Dog Book. New York: R.M. McBride & Company, 1924. v-vi.

it's friday. here's "sunday morning"

image copyright and by kindest permission of the artist  

I always say black cats are the hardest to portray, whether via photo or brush.  Yet here's "Sunday Morning" by Ontario artist Christy Obalek, an assured watercolor capture of a black kitty sleeping and shining in the sun.  The face is so well modeled that you can see right where the fur texture changes on the nose - that smooth patch right before the nose leather.  Then there's the sleepy puff of the muzzle, bristling with white whiskers.  When I see Veronica sleeping, it's tempting to reach out and rub her muzzle with my fingertip as her breath puffs in and out, and I find I want to do the same here.
Christy Obalek also creates pet commissions, so if you have a black cat you'd like to capture in watercolor for posterity - or a black dog, a white cat, even a couple of hungry kittens - check out her Etsy shop.  And check out her darling rock hyrax.

1899 or so: snapshot of "friendly enemies"

Brooklyn Museum/Brooklyn Public Library, Brooklyn Collection. No known restrictions on copyright.

Sometime around the turn of the 20th century in Brooklyn, New York, a couple of pugs keep a wide-eyed space apart from their much more assured feline counterpart.  This gelatin silver glass dry plate negative was taken around 1899-1909 by Daniel Berry Austin, whose avocation was recording the Brooklyn of his day inside and out.  In 1941 he donated his collection to the Brooklyn Museum, a perfect action if I ever saw one.  Here is the text announcing the resulting show that same year.

animals in dreams

Last night I had this profoundly odd yet hope-inspiring dream that I found a turtle skeleton that came back to life, put on flesh, and took a great liking to me.  I'm floored as to what that means, but while I was trying to get some help with that, I did find this series on animals in dreams.  (The link is to part 1. Parts 2 and 3 are linked at the bottom of the article.)

portrait with rabbit

thanks wikiart.org (PD)

Valentin Serov (1865-1911) was one of the great Russian portraitists of his day.  Yet I had never seen his name till I discovered this pencil Portrait of K. A. Obninskaya with Bunny (1904).  Turns out he studied under Ilya Repin, and in Moscow and Paris.  The freshness of his approach to his subjects is considered to be the starting point of Russian Impressionism.  You can see this much more vividly when you see a number of his works in color (this page isn't great, but it will help).  I simply enjoyed the solidity and velvety finish of the rabbit, and how carefully she holds him.

gold mine at the guardian

My favorite online newspaper is The Guardian (formerly the Manchester Guardian).  There's many reasons for this (excellent world coverage, a British slant on the arts), but I have discovered an entirely new reason:  the reader-submitted pet features.  Here's Pets with Talent, including Onion, who makes a great card table, and Willow, who helps teach kids to read.  The most recent, Camouflaged Pets, dares you (it's quite a dare!) to find Lily, MimiTotoro, and their well-blended friends.  Or perhaps you'd like Pets Acting like Humans (lay off the bubbly, Pico).    All from the Top Pets feature, so go check it out.