In April of 1996, I felt my world dissolving and needed the support and love that only a dog can give. I called all over New England looking for a female poodle puppy, but none were to be found. Until I found a breeder with a 6 month old who looked just like a Teddy Bear. I felt this was meant to be because I collected Teddy Bears!
I fell in love at first sight! What a little handful she was from day one. In fact, my mother was convinced that someone else had her before me, couldn’t handle her and returned her to the breeder. She dubbed her “Wild Thing”. I couldn’t imagine anyone returning her, no matter how difficult my life ever became.
When I went to work, I put Phoebe in the kitchen with a baby gate, more to keep her safe than to protect my home. I would come home to find the kitchen looking like a cyclone had gone through it, and Phoebe excitedly barking and crying, begging for me to spring her from her prison. Every night. Except for the third day. When I came home from work and received NO greeting. Just silence. I ran around my home, went into my bedroom and stopped short! There she was, in the middle of my bed, laying down with her head between her paws, just her eyes looking up at me so very guiltily!!! Somehow, she had managed to jump UP on the bed, but was too frightened to jump back down! This was, of course, just a precursor to “Life With Phoebe”. And the beginning of her training of ME. (No more baby gate….no more prison!) She got into EVERYthing.
Phoebe adored my mother – especially after she taught her to beg at the table. Sigh. This was the ONLY vice she DIDN’T have up until then. After my mother passed away in 1999, Phoebe got me through the pain as only a beloved pet can.
I knew she loved me in her own way. When we’d go to bed, she’d get under the covers and get as close to my side as she possibly could, and sometimes fall asleep with her head on the palm of my hand. She exasperated me sometimes, but never failed to make me laugh, and to comfort me if I was in any sort of distress.
I lost my little girl in June of 2007 after a swiftly debilitating liver disease forced me to make the horrific decision to have her put out of her pain and suffering and have her euthanized.
My “Painting a Dog a Day” portrait of Phoebe is a treasure to me. Kim somehow captured Phoebe’s true essence. She was such a pretty little girl, and her spirit lives on in my heart.
A. VanVloten
Your painting of Phoebe is lovely, as is your heartfelt homage to her great spirit. I enjoy looking at your paintings very much.
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