Why Gracie is still Here

I took my entire canine family to see Dr. Faber today for their accupunture, chiropractic adjustments, and holistic checkup.  Dr. Faber and I were talking about Gracie and her current state of health and when it's time to let her go.  Euthanasia.  A fancy word for killing.  No matter how I think of it, accept it, word it, the bottom line is that euthanasia is when I decide to end the life of my companion.  I know a number of my friends and acquaintances and readers wonder why I don't just "put her to sleep."  It's not putting her to sleep.  It's death. 


To explain why Gracie is still here, I need to share the story of Gus. 

Gracie thinks Gus's frisbee is delicious

Gus was with us for over 16 years.  He came to me before I met Ernie.  Just a tiny pup, brought to school by a few of my students.  He'd been found in the highway on the way from the Outer Banks to Virginia Beach.  The kids were told to find him a home.  Good grief!  That should NOT have been a child's responsibility, so I took him with the full intention of taking him to the SPCA.  Gus was covered in ticks.  And I mean COVERED.  I'd never seen anything like it.  I bathed him in my kitchen sink.  He was so exhausted, he slept through the entire bath.  I held him in my lap when I was done and he never left. Gus is the dog who taught me that animals are meant to be with  certain humans and somehow they find their way to us. 


He was a sweet, sweet dog who resembled a doberman-lab-hound mix.  All black with Dobie markings and the prettiest speckled boots.  He was goofy. Our first walk on a leash freaked him out so badly, we didn't get further than 2 houses away. It was my fault I didn't try until he was about 5 or 6 months old.  I met Ernie when Gus was a year old, give or take, and they bonded instantly.  Ernie taught Gus to play ball (where when I'd tried, the ball would bounce off his head and he'd look at me wondering why I'd done that) and he taught Gus to catch a Frisbee.  That dog loved, loved loved to run after Frisbees.  He lived for Frisbee.  And squirrels.  

Gus would snuggle with us, but he'd never stay still.  I called him my learning-disabled dog with A.D.D. Not to make fun of humans so afflicted, but he really did have issues.  Yet he persevered and became a dog that all of our friends loved. 

So some 16 years later, I noticed one morning a large swelling on his rear leg.  Overnight this appeared.  Short version; it was  a form of bone cancer. It didn't get better, but we did what we could to help him along.  He dragged his leg, requiring booties where he'd scraped his skin down nearly to his bone.   He only wanted to be with us.  After about a month, I thought it was time for him to go. 

I called the holistic vet I'd been using at the time.  She came to our home, Ernie and I both with Gus as she began to insert the needle to euthanize him. He balked and pulled away his leg.  Ernie was beside himself.  I didn't know what to think. We regrouped and tried again about 15 minutes later.  Gus, our sweet lab who knew no enemies tried to bite his doctor.  

We heard him.  He wasn't ready.  Dr. K was taken aback and I felt awful for her.  But we couldn't euthanize a dog that so clearly wasn't ready to go.  

We had another 3 months with Gus. He was fully functional until his last few days, when complications left him incapacitated.  He stopped eating.  He didn't want to leave us mentally, but his body was done.  He'd taught us so much about caring for a living being even in the worst of circumstances.  Just because a creature or human is old or ill, doesn't necessarily mean they are finished, complete or done. We tend to cast off our elderly.  We tend to ignore the ugliness of aging and illness.  We want it all to go away. I learned more from Gus in his last 4 months with us than I ever would have if we'd simply "put him down" when his cancer first arrived.  I wouldn't trade that time for anything, although it certainly would have been easier. 

After we had Gus euthanized, (this time he went very quickly,) as we were riding home in our van, I saw him, Gus, riding in the back with us.  I had no doubt we'd done it right. Not only were we on the way home, Gus was, too.  

Gus is with me in every painting since he died. He is the image on my business cards.  I have a soul symbol for him that appears somewhere on my canvas.  He was a goofy fun dog in life, and a wise teacher in death.  

So until Gracie tells me she has completed her life, I will honor her illness, her age and whatever wisdom she has to share.  I have no doubt she will let us know when her body is finished. 

Gracie : 2005

On Being a Teacher

I've been a teacher in some form or another since I graduated from college, oh a thousand years ago.  It is not what I thought I would do, but life takes us on detours and roads less travelled and thankfully I've always either had the sense to listen to the Universe, or the laziness to just go with the flow. Both have served me well.  I wanted to be a veterinarian, a hair dresser and a beauty queen.  Seriously.  But blood makes me queasy. Dissecting frogs in high school put me over the edge.  Fixing Barbie's hair (I finally realized) was not quite the same as doing human heads. Plus I ruined a few good Barbies. I didn't play well with girly girls who had painted toes, since I'd rather be climbing trees, hanging out on the beach and finding stray animals to bring home.   Soooo.....I chose art.  I knew less about it at the time, so it made perfect sense to me.  I liked creating and I could do it alone.  Why not? I'd be an art major and if I had to, I'd teach for a few years until I decided what I would do when I grew up.  (I grin big here.) 


Currently I teach adult painting classes.  I've been doing that for about 5 or 6 years now.  I love it.  I enjoy the challenges and the fun of being around other artists - who actually pay ME to help them become better at what they do. Those aha moments are priceless.  I get to have some of those, too, when I see something unexpected happen on one of their canvases.  I've always said I learn as much from them as they do from me.  


Adult students take painting for various reasons.  To explore something new, to get out of the house, to learn a new medium or technique, to pick up where they left off years ago after the kids are grown, to consider a new career....I could go on. Although I don't encourage the career part much, since making art and selling art are on opposite ends of the creative spectrum.  A person has to be dedicated to marketing to actually make a living off of art.  That's another topic entirely.  One thing all of my students do have in common is the desire to do the best they can and get better with each new painting. 


Teaching can also be tiring, annoying and frustrating.  Working to come up with new ideas only to be ignored has made me realize adult students come with their own agendas.  Watching a gifted artist constantly berate him/herself wears me down.  I've learned sometimes a student's self-worth is wrapped up in their perceived value of their artistic output.  "this painting is awful, I suck!" isn't unusual to hear.  I understand, because I'm an artist too, and any of us who are artists have been there, and will continue to go there as long as we are creating.  I think it comes with the territory.  I wish someone had warned me in college.  Then again, maybe if I'd known, I'd actually have tried the veterinarian thing.  I don't think there would have been any less angst, though.  Just different angst. 


I see myself not so much as an instructor with technical knowledge (which I am and have) as someone who uplifts and encourages progress.  I bring what I know about painting to the table and my students bring their gifts and talents.  All are excellent, some are extraordinary.  I don't make them better artists - they do that by working hard.  I just meet them where they are and take part of the journey with them. 


You can see some of their recent paintings here
Mostly Art with Stray Musings on Occasion: The "Painting Abbey" Wall

Gracie Has Other Ideas

this is just an update on Amazing Gracie. 

These were taken after Gracie's return home from doggie ICU.  Apparently her mission on earth is to see how often she can scare the living beejeesus out of me by faking her imminent death.  

The "Painting Abbey" Wall

On exhibit now at Crossroads Art Center, Richmond, VA

and the original Abbey herself, in attendance opening night.  

and no, I don't KNOW why blogger posts my larger image out of the box like that, but I'll eventually figure it out. 

Student Show - Painting Abbey

Abbey by Carolyn Kipps

Friday night my fabulous students will once again show off their talents and progress in acrylic painting. The opening at 6 p.m. Friday July 15 and most if not all of the 12 of us exhibiting will be in attendance.  Come say hello and check out what we've been up to lately.


Included in this exhibit is a show within a show.  I call it "Painting Abbey." One of my painting students is a renowned photographer, Lynda Richardson.  She snapped a photo of Abbey during a local agility class she was participating in with her own pup.  After seeing the image, we thought it would be fun for all of my students (who wished) to paint their own version of her.  The results are fantastic. ranging from simple color studies to some quite unusual and creative interpretations.  


I'll update with photos as soon as I get those taken.  Until then, here's a taste of two of the Abbeys.  

Abbey by Marcia Fowler

In Honor of Feistiness

A Not So Feisty Moment

Those who know me or have followed this blog regularly know that my dogs are an integral part of my life.  They are much like children, however, we do honor their “dogginess” and have never resorted to dressing them, carrying them in grocery stores or nightclubs, or taking them anywhere that a dog would not of his/her own accord choose to go, unless it smelled food (alert!) or another creature (high alert!).  We also have no problem locking them in the house alone and allowing them to eat off of the floor.  Much of the joy of living with animals is, well, that they are animals.  And even in being animals, they have so so much to teach us. 

Gracie is our elder girl, 15 just this past March.  She’s had a rough time these past 11 months.  She began losing weight last summer, with no visible or recordable cause found.  Then she had vestibular syndrome, which really took her to another level, much like a stroke would affect a person.  This caused her to have several physical issues, plus she lost her ability to recognize food, and worse, she became afraid of her food dishes.  Like she needed that with her weight loss issue.  So basically, since then, I’ve been her full time care giver.  

Still the Boss

One thing Gracie did NOT lose was her Feisty.  She was born a ball of fur and mischief, a loner that had no problem looking you in the eye or taking on a challenge.  Intelligent, fast, quirky.  We used to take her to the school yard nearby and let her loose.  That girl would just run....for no reason but that she could.  A blur of fur, tongue and teeth as she zipped around the fields in ecstatic abandon.  A marvel to watch. 

At just a few weeks old, Gracie would “eyeball” us.  Look us straight in the eye, no relenting.  We knew we had a challenge, so as she grew we took her to obedience school, where she became the first example for needing discipline in her puppy class.  I grin, because she graduated with flying colors and went on to be an agility champ.  But she was bored after her first runs. She’d look at me as if to say, “ I just did that.  and exactly WHY do I need to do that again?”  Always ready for her next challenge.  Gracie became our alpha dog pretty quickly.  (well, next to me.  I claim the Supreme Alpha position in our household. Hey, I can claim. ) 

Gracie has been with us for 15 years.  Ernie’s running buddy up until the last few.  Her body has deteriorated, with spinal issues, weakened legs and now, a mass quickly taking over her esophagus and trachea.  Yet she’s never, ever lost her will to live or her spunky playfulness.  She continues to defend her place as Alpha Queen and won’t hesitate to put another furkid in his/her place. She still will bark to the world that this is her territory and she's still defending it. To watch her frail, bony body run as best it can after her younger packmates is a wonder to behold.  

Two days ago Gracie became quickly and suddenly ill.  She’s been in critical care since then. She is fighting aspirational pneumonia, which comes with her condition.  Her time is short. I am filled with inconsolable grief. Gracie is coming home tonight and we will assess her desire to continue to be here, with her pack.  I’m hoping she still has her feisty.