“Deep Nights and Quiet Days”
Pencil pen, and watercolor

The subject is my old Dougan, who, at age 13, remains the most genuinely sweet-tempered, if not the smartest terrier I’ve ever had (and who knows how he would rank among the fastest, since I’ve never seen him act in the least rushed or hurried since he was about three months old) He is, all done and said, the mellow, not-so-Big Lebowski of West Highland terriers. He’s aging well and peacefully out here on the farm. Most of every day, nowadays, Dougan’s off with the fairies (as the Irish say of sweet, but forgetful/charmingly vague old ladies who doze off to sleep every half hour or so, but who invariably wake up bright and happy). Still?…he perks right up and is his young self when there’s food in the offing or when we snuggle up each night in bed. As one friend said of him, years ago?….”Oh, I don’t know about ‘stupid’. Dougan’s just not going to let himself get exercised, figuratively or literally, over anything.”. Here’s him at his most beguiling……