I drove my car for the first time in a week, and ventured further than I’ve been in a month: about 1.5 miles down to a small beach on the bay. We’re permitted to go to parks for exercise, as long as we keep apart from our walking companion and everyone else. So I met up with a friend and her dogs and, from a safe distance (I always allow more than six feet when possible), went for a much-needed walk. It was wondrous to see someone and something different. We talked about how the psychological effects of going through this pandemic (even for those with resources who remain healthy) remain unknown, and are too big for us truly to comprehend yet. There will likely be reverberations in our mental lives for a long time to come. When will we feel safe again? How long will it take to be comfortable near strangers? We may not be aware of it on a day-to-day basis, but this experience must shake us to the core on some levels. I know the 1918 flu epidemic had profound and lifelong effects on my grannie, who was twenty at the time. She was forever terrified of germs from strangers.
I rarely post on Facebook, but yesterday I put up my golden retriever drawing, and have been deeply pleased by the positive feedback. One person, my old boss at the animal rescue place where I worked briefly, asked me to draw her dogs. I told her that I’d gotten lucky with my uploaded creation, but that I really can’t do likenesses, and in fact I’m lucky if it even looks like a member of the canine species. Still, I told her to go ahead and send me her dog pix. The pressure was on.
My new belief is that curly white dogs are the absolute hardest to draw. This is Aggie.
Her other dog, with equally fluffy face, proved impossible. In her photo, the pup was splayed out flat on the floor, legs akimbo, looking rather like a bear rug. I tried to capture it on paper. I’m not showing you the results, which made the poor pup look as though she had met with a tragic accident. To help you imagine what I drew, here’s the snapshot.
Oh dear. I just got a text in response to my Aggie drawing. My friend liked it and wants to frame it. That’s great. What’s not great is that she still wants a sketch of her other dog, though I told her it was beyond my skill and experience level. I am so nervous, after two failed attempts already. She just sent me a few more photos. Eeek. Wish me luck.
I’ll tell ya: I have no idea if I will adopt a dog or not, but if I did, it would have to be one with orderly fur, preferably with a hue to it, and defined features that I’m capable of drawing.
In Memoriam: Sad news (also on Facebook) that one of my high school English teachers, not much older than I, died suddenly today. Last time I saw him was a couple years ago when he came over for a brief visit (he lived in San José). We paged through my yearbook from that era together, which was fun, and I lent it to him. He was one of these people so full of life—into travel and literature and Scottish dancing and his family—that it’s hard to wrap my brain around his death. The initial post said he’d died of Covid-19, but I don’t know if that’s true. He’d been sick with a flu but had tested negative for coronavirus only last week. Three days ago he was feeling better and posting upbeat messages. I’d expected and hoped to see him again. R.I.P. Jonathan Lovell.
I like the little white pup. Perhaps she sent you slightly more normal pictures of the other one??
That sounds like a lovely outing! Interesting, the parallel between Great Granny’s germ-phobia and her own epidemic experience.
I think it very sensible to narrow down your ideal-dog criteria through pondering how easy they are to draw.
I was quite impressed by your curly white dog skillz. Perhaps I shall cover myself completely in white shag carpets and have you draw me. mwahahahaha