DOGDAYS- Nosferatu and Otis

t’s been a while since I shared a prominent pet appreciation post.
Time to squeeze in a brief celebration of Nosferatu the dachshund and Otis, a Basset Fauve de Bretagne...the lucky dogs that share a perfectly pink Brighton house with Nick and Susie Cave.

In one of his treasured letters from the simply magical Red Hand Files, Nick Cave shares:
”[…]we have two family dogs.
A gentle moony dog with sad eyes and cancer called Otis and a psychotic little dachshund called Nosferatu, whose one great enterprise in life is to bite me.
I think it is safe to say that I love these dogs considerably more than they love me. They are devoted to my wife and guard her from me with their lives.”

⁣He later adds lovingly:
”A final note on the dogs – my wife, Susie, is devoted to them and it would be fair to say she shows more understanding and empathy for the animal world than she does for the human world.
Susie can look into the berserk eyes of Nosferatu and just melt him. She is a dog-whisper.
She has the same effect on me.
She is a husband-whisperer.”

-RHF issue # 2, September 2018

Hmmm, I think one could say that Nick Cave is a bit of Esther-whisperer, because this just made me melt as well.
xez

* All photography from @susiecaveofficial Instagram, except photo nr. 3, a wonderful picture by @davidtibet_current93 🙏

DOGDAYS- Chia, Bo, Jingo and Inca

Bo and Chia are maybe my best friends here- I enjoy them very much- 
The male lies on my window seat now with his legs stretched straight out behind him- looking like a fine big cattapillar. 
They sleep in my room at night and in the day time are always just outside the door”.
-
Georgia O’Keeffe in a letter to a friend

Three years after permanently moving to New Mexico, Georgia O’Keeffe received a Christmas present that would change her world; two ‘blue’ Chow Chow puppies.
It was the beginning of a love for the breed that lasted a lifetime and she went on to raise a total of six Chow companions, first Bo and Chia, later Inca, Bo II and Chia II and finally Jingo. All of them big and beautiful beasts, that she lovingly called her "little people".

Miss O’Keeffe’s New Mexico life was very much centered around the dogs and their loving care. When it got very hot one summer, she stopped going out on painting trips in her car, as the heat was too much for the dogs and she couldn’t bear to leave them.
Another time, she told an interviewer that it wasn’t possible to install a new heater at the ranch, because the only place that heater would fit, was her dog’s favourite sleeping spot.
Even the hair they shed in spring was saved once, to have it woven into a warm shawl.
And when her eyesight began to fail in the 1970s, she had white carpet laid in her Abiquiu studio, just so she could see the dark haired dogs better.

C.S. Merrill wrote about the special bond in her book ‘Weekends with O’Keeffe’, revealing Georgia O’Keeffe’s humorous side in doing so:
“She reached out and patted Jingo. The dog and Miss O’Keeffe had quite a rapport between them.
Miss O'Keeffe was telling little jokes about her, like she's so huge that she would run up to you and affectionately jump on you and knock you over, and she would walk halfway around the house in the morning just to avoid her, because she's so huge.
She said to her, “Jingo, you know the most beautiful thing about you is your tail.”

O’Keeffe made sketches and photographs of the Chows and often, she wrote about them and how they made her feel.
In a note to a friend, she shared: 
“Bo and Chia astonish and amuse me, they seem to belong to adobe- a snowy world”

And when travelling away from Abiquiú in the autumn of 1960, in a letter to her sister Claudia:
“I have thought often of the dogs- wondered if they slept in your room or if they bothered you and were put out. 
I have gotten so that I like having them in the room at night even if it sometimes is a little trouble – I probably miss them more than any other part of the house.”

The Chows seemed to be on her mind constantly, even after their passing. When Bo, her absolute favourite, tragically died after being hit by a truck, she buried him beneath a cedar tree at the White Place and wrote: 
“I like to think that probably he goes running and leaping through the White Hills alone in the night." 

They say the breed specific characteristics of the Chow Chow are being fiercely loyal, devoted and protective, with a proud and independent spirit. This literally sounds like a perfect match for Georgia O’Keeffe, who in her later life mentioned in an interview:
"It seems to be my mission in life to wait on a dog."

…now I just like to think, that instead of waiting, they’re walking, all together through their beloved White Hills.

xez

* Photographs sourced from various locations, please click to enlarge and hover to see photographer credits.

DOGDAYS- POLAIRE

Polaire might have been the only girl that truly and openly had Constantin Brâncuși’s heart.
She was a beautiful Samoyed bitch, as white as his famous whitewashed studio in Montparnasse, Paris.
Polaire served as a guard, a living extension to Brâncuși’s artistic vision and most of all, as a loyal friend that accompanied him everywhere from cafés to movie theaters.

According to British Artist and historian John Golding (in “Vision of the Modern”,1994), Polaire “would accept food from no one but himself and menaced female visitors to the studio” he said that “She became, in her own way, a celebrated Parisian beauty and friends would ask after her in their letters”.

During her lifetime, Polaire was photographed by none other than Man Ray and captured in many a selfie by Brâncuși himself- always with her close to him and sometimes even placing her on a pedestal like one of his sculptures.

Sadly, Polaire passed away too soon, after tragically being hit by a car in 1925.
Golding writes that “Brancusi was desolated, although characteristically, he also remarked that her disappearance would enable him to concentrate harder on his sculpture.” 
He buried her in a dog cemetery at Asnières-sur-Seine, just outside of Paris…and returned to his work.
Work in which, Golding notes, for the latter part of Brâncuși’s career,  “depictions of animals far outnumber those of people.”

Brâncuși never replaced Polaire with another companion, whether dog or human and became increasingly reclusive.

You were a good dog, Polaire.
xez