Watercolor, pastel pencils, oil pencils
Ever since Herve bought Morgan as a birthday present for me, two years ago, and we brought him home, Kate (my oldest and enterprisingly ALPHA female west highland terrier) has pretty much split her time between kicking his ass into submission (he is, all done and said, rowdy by nature) and protecting him from everything, including his own juvenile inclinations.
Kate’s the only dog I’ve known who seems to be thinking “He’s my dog, so I can kick him when I want….but NO ONE else can!”.
Right about the time when I was wondering if the elderly female would EVER put up with the new puppy?…..Morgan went missing one day (not that I’d noticed; I’d been doing something in the studio, at the computer). I think he was about the size of two oranges at that point.
Kate began vigorously pulling at the hem of my pants….and frantically whining….and we finally set off looking for the puppy (she’s never had any puppies, herself, but she obviously regards Morgan as HERS). We did, eventually & having gone through the entire house, find little Morgan in the kitchen….happily nestled in the dishwasher (which I’d stupidly left open), giddily licking dirty plates….and, of course, he was very sick afterwards….and Kate lit into him that night for vomiting on HER floor in HER Queendom.
Well, Kate is a good shepherdess of her flock. The only possible song to go with this late-afternoon painting is:
I need to add that I wouldn’t have done this picture today if it weren’t for the encouragement of my friend, Mary Frances Vogler (who, as a longtime professor of French, will just as likely be inclined to correct me if this title is incorrect).