The Blue Dog

So, I promised you the story of the blue dog. And a blog promise can never be broken.

One summer I was in Carmel, CA. I saw Clint Eastwood there. He looks older in real life, and thinner.

There are many magical things about Carmel. Nepenthe, for one. Nice place to go for a drive by yourself, it is.

But one thing I saw there I have never shaken. And that’s the blue dog. Meet Tiffany. I saw her in a gallery in Carmel. She belonged to George Rodrigue, and she passed away. In the book I have, he says “One morning, I was painting in the studio. Tiffany was curled up in her basket, her head resting on her paws, her sad eyes looking at her favorite painting. My back was toward her, the slanted northern light gently warming me. I stopped my work, and unthinkingly snapped my fingers to bring her over for a scratch. But this time, she didn’t come to me.”

He goes on.

“A dog has no distance between her love and her behavior. No amount of love is too much, either to give or to receive.”

And my favorite - “Always there’s that space between what you feel and what you do, and in that gap, all human sadness lies.”

I love George Rodrigue. Taking his little black and white beloved and turning her blue. She is my blue dog now. And today, she is your blue dog.

So with apologies to my dear George Rodrigue, I give you a blue cat. :) Thanks for all your kind comments and emails.

Have a great Wednesday.