Chapter 7: Painting Lucky

When I moved into the cottage on Craven Rd. nine years ago (2006) ~ Lucky was seven, Rita was eight. The first time they saw the house they rushed up the stairs to the door: home.
     And that evening: again alone, this time though with the company of the dogs - yes, best friends ever. That first evening in the house I painted/drew Lucky.

Some, many, years later Teresa's friend Jerome moved back to Toronto and outfitted himself to do some very special photo-print making. Jerome suggested he might use some of my art work to highlight, represent, his work and process. Looking through my website he decided he wanted to use the painting of Lucky to launch his service. And I lent the painting to him.
     A year later I saw him at Teresa's and asked if I could get the picture back. "Oh, it's in storage. I'll get it for you next time."
     Another year. This time Lucky was with me. So this is after Rita passed on. Rita visited Teresa's twice. Wanted to see the cat. Ate Teresa's silicon earplugs. The a second visit, wanted to find the cat, found the this time hidden earplugs. Knocked over a bottle of olive oil. So Lucky didn't get to visit again till Rita was gone.
     "Jerome, I really would like the painting home." (And three years beyond that - Lucky has been gone two years and counting - still no painting!)
     When Jerome got up to leave, he came over to give me a hug where I sat on the floor, and so was looming over me. Quick as a flash, Lucky grabbed him firmly by the arm. Jerome started., startled, back. And sat again.
     Ten minutes later, Lucky walked gingerly up to sitting Jerome, and cautiously place his paw on Jerome's thigh a moment. "No hard feeling?"

However, dear Jerome, please return my painting.

The second painting of Lucky wasn't started until the winter/spring of 2013. Lucky was 14 years old. I (mistakenly) thought he had many year ahead. When we got Lucky as a puppy from a dairy farm in southern Ontario, I mentioned to the farmer that Australian Cattle Dog were the longest lived dogs, with a Guiness Book of Records of 29 years, 7 months.
     "Oh no," said the farmer. "16 to 18 years."
     I thought he was stating the life expectancy of the breed: but learned, after Lucky left at 14 and a half, that that 14½ was indeed their life expectancy, and the farmer must have meant that long lived examples of the breed might reach 16 to 18.
     
Over the several weeks I worked on this second portrait, Lucky went off his food. My friend, Brahmanjna, discerned that he had a dental problem. Lucky had surgery, a tooth pulled, for a dental abscess. (And while he was out, lts get rid of that growth, and that growth, cuase I'm expecting him to live for another two to four years.)
     During the painting there was a drip, a blot, a drip that ran down the image's "cheek" to the mirror the spot of the infection. And the picture turned out ghostlike. I called it "ghost dog." And Lucky never really recovered fully, but faded out and left over a few months.