Rosencrantz is Dead

Guildenstern is just sleeping.

Things I Like: Part 2 of 5

I love white dogs.

Truth be told, it’s very rare that I meet a dog I don’t like. But white dogs occupy an extra-special space in my heart. Right next to the extra-special places reserved for bloodhounds, sporty-looking sighthounds, roly-poly puppies of any variety, most any member of the mastiff family, poodles, and English pointers. My parents’ dog, Guildenstern, has an extra-special spot of his own too. How could he not?

What a babe. Ten bucks says he’s asleep right now! He spends his waking hours devising new ways to be cute. Unsurprisingly, he’s got my parents wrapped around his little dew claw. Speaking of Gil, here’s a droll e-mail my mother sent me about an encounter on a recent walk:

… a little girl shouted, “Daddy, Daddy, look at that gorgeous dog!” According to your father, Gil blushed, but I wouldn’t put too much faith in that part of the story.

What Would Hitler Wear?

A few days ago I picked up a copy of Argyle Magazine in my physiotherapist’s waiting room. It’s a twee “lifestyle quarterly” for rich people the Aryan master race, apparently. I took a picture of the cover with my cell phone:

“Triumph of the Will: Business Suits for the New Economy” — really? Really really? As in the 1935 Nazi propaganda film “Triumph of the Will” directed by Leni Riefenstahl? Apparently so.

Argyle Magazine offers the final solution to your wardrobe quandary: razor-sharp tailoring! The accompanying photograph replicates the visual style of the Riefenstahl film so exactly that it could practically be mistaken for a still from the original. I read a book about Leni Riefenstahl last year and I recognize that she made important innovations as a filmmaker. But I think it’s tasteless to appropriate Nazi iconography to push “the powersuit for the modern day”. As long as similar atrocities are occurring in the world, and as a sign of respect for the victims of the Holocaust, we shouldn’t minimize the importance of WWII by borrowing from a Nazi propaganda film as a shock tactic to sell more lifestyle magazines.

Sorry to preach. Here’s a picture I took of my parents’ dog. He’s a piano virtuoso!

Baby (Dog) Names

In the fall I’m buying a puppy! Last summer I went to a dog show in Welland to meet the breeder and her (beautiful) dogs. My application to purchase was approved a few weeks ago and I couldn’t be more excited. Or more impatient! The end of the wait is hoving into view at long last though. Hallelujah, y’all!

The breeder can’t guarantee the gender for obvious reasons, but I’m hoping for a boy. Got any great ideas for names? Here are some I’ve been thinking of:

1. Llewellyn: From one of my favourite novels, No Country for Old Men (by Cormac McCarthy).
2. Come to think of it, Cormac would be a pretty good name too.
3. Luke: The patron saint of artists.
4. Wickham: The patron saint of womanizing cads. I think my boy will be popular with the bitches!
5. Viscount: Too bad there’s a cigarette company by the same name. Lil’ V would be such a cute nickname!
6. Emory: Means brave. This is an important quality!
7. Princey: Would it be weird to name my dog after myself?
8. Guildenstern: This is my parents’ dog’s name. I named him, and now I wish I’d kept the name for myself! Rosencrantz doesn’t abbreviate so nicely.

Speaking of Guildenstern, here’s a diptych from a few weeks back. I babysat him while my parents were on vacation. He moped something awful, and my parents missed him too — they e-mailed every night to ask after him. They’re crazy about him, and he’s got them wrapped around his little dew claw!

A Long, Lanky Bedfellow

Guildenstern is very much alive, and he’s hogging the sheets.

My parents have a four-year-old Ibizan Hound called Guildenstern, and their world revolves around him. My mother cooks for him every day. My father has showed pictures of him to his dentist. Gil sleeps in what was once my bed, so when I visit home we have to share. He likes to stretch out his infinitely long legs and take up all the room! And he gives me these big, reproachful eyes when I nudge him back over to his side! Good thing he’s cute.