Many people ask if Pablo was named after Picasso. Not exactly (see my previous post of April 16th). But I do admit I had the great artiste in mind when finalizing my pup’s name. For some reason, pugs have always looked like Spaniards to me. (Yes, yes, I know they originally come from China.) Also, I’m a big fan of Picasso the artist, though not so much the man, so it tickles me that people assume a connection.
Curious, I did some research to see if Picasso was fond of dogs. Turns out he was, but, alas, he lost his heart to a dachshund, not a pug. The dog’s name was Lump (German for Rascal) and he came to live with the painter in an unusual manner. In 1957, Picasso’s friend, David Douglas Duncan, a photojournalist, paid him a visit at his French villa. He brought along his dog—Lump. Tired of life on the road, Lump decided that the grass was greener at the villa and moved in immediately.
Picasso immortalized his new friend in a series of paintings, 45 in all. But my favorite image is of Picasso, a smile on his face, holding Lump.
Take a gander at some of these stylin’ togs designed especially for pugs and French bulldogs at Trendy4Paws. Any pug would be proud to be seen strutting around in one of these outfits. Assuming his owner could afford it. Sorry, Pablo!
Pablo does have a few sweaters and coats that he wears in inclement weather. Here he is decked out in his trench. All he needs is a deerstalker hat and a pipe.
Pablo would like to wish all the mothers out there a Happy Mother’s Day. Having experienced the cruel separation from his natural mother–Morgan, Pride of Gateway-at the tender age of eight weeks, he’d like to remind those who still have moms to appreciate what they have. And to my own mother, a special wish to enjoy the day.
Ernst Jandl, an Austrian experimental poet influenced by Dada, wrote the following poem, “Ottos Mops,” or “Otto’s Pug,” in which the only vowel used is o. As you’ll no doubt notice, it’s written in German. The fun of the poem is in the hearing, so go to audiopoetry and listen to Jandl’s rendition.
ottos mops trotzt
otto: fort mops fort
ottos mops hopst fort
otto holt koks
otto holt obst
otto: mops mops
ottos mops klopft
otto: komm mops komm
ottos mops kommt
ottos mops kotzt
Shedding season is in full force. I brush Pablo after his walk each morning and still balls of fur-bunnies drift around our house. (Having two cats also shedding doesn’t help). What to do with all this excess fur?
One solution is to donate it to help sop up the recent oil spill in the Gulf Coast. I’m not kidding. Pet fur absorbs oil like crazy apparently. To sign up and receive instructions on where to send your pet’s fur, go to Excess Access. They’re also accepting human hair (you were ready for a haircut anyway, right?) and nylons.
For those of you of the crafty persuasion, another option is to harvest your dog’s fur and use it to knit sweaters, scarves, mittens, and what have you. Again, I’m not kidding. K had a colleague who knitted intricate sweaters with the fur from her two collies.
I can knit but I know one basic stitch and I never learned how to cast off so the only thing I made was an endless—and I do mean endless—red scarf. Perhaps I should dust off the old knitting needles and buy Knitting with Dog Hair by Kendall Crolius and Anne Black Montgomery. You can find it on Amazon. As the subtitle so aptly says, “Better a sweater from a dog you know and love than from a sheep you’ll never meet.”
Sunday, the day after our excursion to the dog park, Pablo needed some down time to recover from the excitement. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he had a hangover. Maybe all that butt sniffing did him in.
On Saturday, K and I drove to the Schuylkill River Dog Park for a pug meetup group, our first in Philly. Pablo used to be a member of a pug group in Beacon, NY, where we lived until recently. Unlike the one in Beacon, this park had a fenced-in dog run so Pablo could go off leash. He had a grand time sniffing new smells and making friends. As is usually the case with Pablo, he gravitates more to people than to other dogs. He made almost every fellow pug owner pet him. In truth, he’s a bit of a slut.