Acrylic on canvas 12″ X 12″ (y. 2013)
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I lived with this dog for a few years. His name was Clyde. He was not my dog though. I’m not really sure that Clyde belonged “to” anyone. The person Clyde lived with told the story of Clyde. It went something like, “I came home from work and he was just here in my yard”…”I always lock the gates for Phoebe (his “other” dog) so, he either jumped in or someone put him here”…”I can’t keep him”…”I have a dog”…”I think he’s a pit-bull”… A few days after his arrival, I had the opportunity to meet him.
He was beautiful, dignified, always polite. I remember my dog, Mel, teaching Clyde how to play with a ball – no human required 🙂 I remember I quietly watched from the kitchen doorway. Watching and welling up with tears. He was like a little kid – beautiful – a natural athlete – full of joy in a new moment with a new skill.
I loved this guy.