in Remembrance

Emily Dickinson wrote of her beloved dog Carlo- " I believe that the first to come and greet me when I go to heaven will be this dear, faithful, old friend Carlo." I follow by saying if dogs like Carlo-and my Moses, do not go to heaven-send me elsewhere.


early on in this endeavor I wrote: Dog's provide a most sacred companionship to humans- asking no questions, making no reproaches. Telling no secrets. All reasons for our great love affair with dogs- or better yet, maybe it is that one and only special dog that finds us, who understands us, and accepts us and our burdens as their own.   Wills was that dog for my brother.
 

I wrote of the many dogs in my life & there was 1 particularly that I called Pretty Boy and it was Wills- in truth, he was beautiful.

" you think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us." 

 R. L. Stevenson

With WILLS' loss, an era ends, there will be more years, and more dogs, but never another like him.

Everything changes, Nothing is lost. Ovid

a perfect gentleman

,

I hardly think of  REMUS that I don't think of my beloved dog MOSES. You see, Moses raised Remus from a 5 month old kitten to be a great dog-and a real pussycat. MOSES was the anointed one, Remus his willing acolyte. Chosen for his beauty-and his obviously being a momma's boy, Remus entered the old house on White Oak Road as a youngster- to be tamed-to be mastered, and Moses took on that tutelage. Other than providing Remus sustenance I was little needed- he was Moses' cat.  

Yes, too- there was his coat-black and white like Moses', and they did take on certain Siamese twin-like characteristics.
Guarding the house-check.
Rushing to the door when the bell rang-check.
Settling in on the sofa at night to watch tv-check.
Following me down to the office at night- check.
Going out to... nope-Remus had to stay inside during Moses morning constitutionals-and his late night sorties into the deepest reaches of the courtyard, but Remus waited at the door for him-hind quarters in quick retreat as Moses shot back into the house...They were gone.

In the autumn of 2008, Remus sat with me on the bed waiting for our vet-Dr. E to euthanize Moses. Did they both know? If they did, they accepted it. Animals do that. Whether abused or indulged-they accept what their masters dole out. Moses was ready. As Moses quietly left me-Remus left me too. Moses was gone-and Remus jumped off the bed as soon as Moses breathed his last. He mourned. I know he did as did I, yet it was never the same for either of us-there was a small gap-a hole in our hearts-that we could not-did not bridge. We did the same things-but with less Joy.

Another dog-Zetta-appeared on the scene, but it was never the same for Remus. Not even close. Remus tried to embrace her-but she wasn't that into cats-and it was only after Zetta dozed off-that Remus could slip in alongside her.

The past two weeks Remus has been sick-withdrawing from his daily rituals and family life. He was ready. I gathered him up in a towel-his shroud- as he cried faintly-weakly-but trusting. He accepted.
Off to feel no pain-finally able to slip outside beyond the safety of home and follow Moses. I know he was waiting.

Rest In Peace-Little RE- you were a perfect gentleman to the end.

 .

DOG GONE

.
this month I was asked to write a Reflections piece in Raleigh's WALTER magazine. In writing about the city-the memories I have after living there over 23 years are about A house, A dog and LOVE.

Read it here
 The story is illustrated by the wonderful artist Patricia van Essche who sent me this beautiful portrait of Moses. See more of her work here




,

seen & heard

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as I begin a  new project, I run through things in my mind before anything ever touches pen to paper, formally.
Yes, everything still goes into a notebook.

I do take notes when I meet with clients-and after I always fill in the notes with more details I need to remember-and things that I have an immediate affinity for at the house.

A painting-an old box-a cherished collection-a family photograph that tells me things a client doesn't think to say- a story about the dog-the cat-the baby.
There are the obvious signals
and then there are the quiet ones, and the hidden.

photographs are my own.

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caninus

.

 a soon to be Princess & her dogs aboard ship headed to Monaco

More than a few of you mistakenly thought the last post called Requiem:Sophie's Choice was about my dog.  No, this is The Sophie I've written about a number of times. She will be missed by her friends (me) & family.

 Sophie

 stories about Sophie here

 My Zetta, (alive & well), wishes not to go by the way of urban legend-she is making her own.

 Zetta

stories about Zetta here

Then- there is My Beloved, in fact- some of my first posts, Dog Gone, are about Moses,(deceased).

 Moses

stories about Moses here

Finally there is Argos, Sophie's adopted brother, written about initially- when he was skin & bone-literally.

& about Argos here

 this photograph is indeed of Argos-mistakenly identified as Sophie in the last post. We all make mistakes-but luckily there are few when it comes to our dogs.

Sophie & her mistress

 (photograph by Missy McLamb)

then, there are other dogs in my life-but that's another story...

but for the moment-this blog-officially Gone to the Dogs.

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remembrance

.

"As you ask me about the dogs, I begin with them. The two Newfoundland dogs coming to meet me, with the usual carriage and the usual driver, and beholding me coming in my usual dress out at the usual door, it struck me that their recollection of my having been absent for any unusual time was at once cancelled. They behaved (they are both young dogs) exactly in their usual manner; coming behind the basket phaeton as we trotted along, and lifting their heads to have their ears pulled,—a special attention which they receive from no one else. But when I drove into the stable-yard, Linda (the St. Bernard) was greatly excited, weeping profusely, and throwing herself on her back that she might caress my foot with her great fore-paws. M.'s little dog, too, Mrs. Bouncer, barked in the greatest agitation, on being called down and asked, 'Who is this?' tearing round and round me like the dog in the Faust outlines."' Charles Dickens 1868

every thing that lived must be remembered

Moses collar stands in the hall on an urn

Bonham's auction here

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Millay on dogs

.

photograph by Berthold Litjes

Parrots,
tortoises

&

redwoods 

live a longer life than men do; 

Men 

a longer life than dogs do; 

Dogs 

a longer life than love does.

edna saint vincent millay

.

.                        

Moses circa 1823

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an Aesthete's Lament's latest post Cut and Paste-(here) marking the opening of Met's "Playing with Pictures: The Art of Victorian Photocollage, prompted me to post this little gem.

Though my little treasure is circa 2000-it still maintains a touch of the sentimental attachments that are characteristic of the Victorian photocollage. My treasured friend-Dorothy- who has done some extraordinary collages on this order presented this to me-it features my MOSES circa 1823.

here are delightful photographs of some of the works on display at the Met show from the NYTimes article Playing with Pictures here.
.

Queen for a Day, begging your Indulgence

we don't receive wisdom:

we must discover it for ourselves
after a journey
that no one can take for us
or spare us

PROUST

MY FAMILY TREE
A SWEETENED CONDENSED VERSION

THE LITTLE TUDOR
HOLIDAY 2008

MY BELOVED DADDIE
SUMMER GARDEN FROM THE PAST

MY ELDEST SIBLING PNT
SONGWRITER

LIZ MY NIECE
GRAPHIC ARTIST

JT MY NEPHEW
STUDENT & RAPPER

LIZ & JT

LIZ & PGT
NEW YORK TRIP

KCT BROTHER 2
CREATIVE DIRECTOR

JRG, BCT, KCT
FAMILY at an OBAMA Event 2008

GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
SANDFORD PEELE & PGT

requiescat in pace 2008

ZETTA
GYPSY QUEEN

REMUS-THE CAT

MOSES WAITING
2008

my 50th

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Gucci Chew

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Gucci Chew

a tail of shoe woe

with Little known of dogs living in houses-
as I grew up they were housed
in dog houses.
Moses came my way-
not by bull rush,
but from a life unknown
that He wasn't spilling.

Your little inched tail fits well-around the porcelain
I suppose that you do Too-you Staffordshire Bull,
You do.

There is something undeniably compelling about Us 2
we'll have to adjust to things about which you
Must know-
You Must Not
Do.

I never dreamt there would be such losses-
little bits
but big bites,
a sweet little chair leg
a Bit of mohair- now less hair-there.

What got chewed- alas, was a shock none the less.
One pale pink Gucci shoe- Now a chew.
That "G" got chewed ragged, its mate spared somehow-
The bull didn't care.

Oh Moses!
"G(ee)"
Did you have to ?
Just 1 shoe chewed?
what did that shoe ever do
to You?

Did it have to be the newest of my new shoes
you took as your chew?
What do I do with just 1 good shoe-
Un chewed?

Both shoes were tossed in a basket
Could they be worn at dusk ?
in a crowd?
in a hurry?

Maybe on dog walks-
just us 2.
Tugging along both
victim and thief.
Guilty of dog Love
that would be
Me.

Moses- dog gone October 9, 2008.

this delightful photograph "slipper thief" by Susan Mac.

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my other Library...

now I know- it is a Bedroom, but as you can see it is my library too, and No- I don't have any trouble sleeping in this stimulatingly book heavy environ.


This Headboard has been around.


The wooden chandelier has too.


A slight nod to Pauline de Rothschild's pillow shams in one of her guest rooms, these via my own Guest Bedroom because Zetta likes to lounge in that room and has a slight fetish for silk satin ribbon. In here- less so- because typically the bed doesn't get made up quite so pretty like.


My current reading list spread around a bit. Right now I am reading EF Benson's Lucia surprise! to le style et la matiere).


Studying an interesting color scheme for an equestrian client. Surprise!


Yes, it's a little disheveled, but so is my desk- I am consistent anyway.


It can't all be books.


In fact, I keep my Fortuny in the bedroom.



My Fortuny etching, that is.



& of course my Reading companions.

Zetta.
Loves DRAMA.


Zetta wanting to be alone in the Guest Room.


Remus, tends to like SUSPENSE, especially when leaping off the headboard at 2 a.m.


Moses -aged and departed scholar, slept through most novels.


He also had the bedroom, minus the bookcases, moved down to the Dining Room- his last year and a half of life- since he could not make the steps. I always thought He must have been tuned in and came to this idea from one of my favorite novel's The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton. Wharton's Mrs. Manson Mingott, could no longer climb her stairs and lived on the main floor of her New York mansion. Visitors of the dowager tried not to notice- though it shocked- there sat the lady's bed in plain view. Things have changed since the Age everyone seemed to understand Moses presence here.

He indeed slowed , But still slept in the middle of the bed, He did, however, know how to keep a secret.