No one among canine devotees contests the widely held sentiment that dogs are the finest companions one could choose. And, each dog lover would claim to have a very special dog, a brilliant dog, a beautiful dog, the noblest of all creatures indeed.
My two pups, Mango and Blue, are, however, somewhat more special than others (like “More Equal Than Others,” in my own wry tribute to George Orwell). I do not intend to offend you, dear reader, with what appears to be a most extravagant boast. Really, I do not mean to offend at all but they really do have a very uncanny ability. Perhaps it is because they are littermates and have inherited this curious trait genetically, or perhaps because they are uniquely blessed by The Dog God. Notwithstanding, they can ponder a work of art, their abfabfave thing to do, and enter into the artwork itself. Literally enter the artwork. Their peers, even others dogs with whom I have had the pleasure to share my home, stare at the TV or squirrels or the food bowl, but not these two. They tilt their heads, remain fixated, and disappear into the canvas.
“That’s preposterous,” you say. I would say the same if I hadn’t witnessed this magical occurrence for myself rather regularly. And to prove it so, I am including some photographs I have taken as evidence (I still believe in the evidence of photographs, though I am vastly outnumbered by supercilious theorists). They not only enter the painting, collage or watercolor; they sometimes meet the artist within the frame. That encounter is completely out of view to me, I am sorry to say. When they come back out, though, they tell me tales that no one could invent so convincingly.
I just show them a print they love and poof. The first time was with one Mr. Andrew Wyeth. Blue went in, looked back at me, and lay down in the matted grass, most likely, the same grassy spot where the girl in the picture had lain. I fumbled for my camera phone and quickly snapped the shot. Of course my pictures cannot match the quality of the paintings themselves, but they do serve as a humble record of these extraordinary events. What I love most are the stories my dear pups tell me upon their return.
Let me begin at the beginning, with Blue’s adventure with Mr. Wyeth. Afterwards, Mango joins in with her accounts. The rest, well, reader, get cozy and enjoy the stories and pictures you will not find elsewhere.
(The rest will follow in a limited edition book.)
Blue Visits Mr Andrew Wyeth
Blue Scootches Past Mr Hopper's Station
Mango Meets Mary but Need a Nap
Blue Stays with Eric in the Hamptons but Does not Like the Vibe
Blue investigates Mr Hockney's Forest and Just smells Stuff
Mr & Mrs Welcome Blue to Dinner at Romare's Which is Swell
Jean-Michel Shows Mango his Armani Suits While They Share a Taco
Despite Marc's Generous Offer to Dinner, Mango Feels Somewhat Awkward
Mango Likes Andy but Suddenly Needs a Treat
Mango Snoozes After a Very Hard Day at Sea with Winslow and Company
Blue and Mr Rothko Get on Famously and Discuss Friedrich Nietzsche and Such
The Pups Hold Helen Frankenthaler in High Regard
Mango and Jackson Play Until Jackson Gets Very Messy and Ruins his Pants
Blue Observes Mr Corot's Modesty and Restraint
Mrs Whistler Barely Tolerates Blue While He Eats his Pear
Mr Sargent is None Too Pleased by Blue's Arrival
Mango and Blue Listen Laxily to Mr Vermeer's Sermon on Color
Blue Hears Mr Modigliani Rave About the Uffizi
Monsieur Vincent Dons a Rather Shabby Straw Hat
Mr Munch Makes Blue Very Nervous
The Pups Enjoy Matisse's Studio No End
Mango Cannot Resist the Temptation to Stare
Blue Thinks Mango Should Keep her Negative Opinions to Herself
Mango Waits as Mr de Kooning Plays Some Very Cool Jazz
Mango Finds Frau Neuzil Stunning and mr Schiele Heartily Agrees
Mango and Katie Enjoy the Day
Mango Listens to Miró Assassinate Painting and Praise the Sky