Marcie's Teeth

Marcie recuperating

So for the sake of completeness, here is a story about Marcie Carey and her dental adventures, which actually compare okay to those of her sisters.

Marcie had kind of unfortunate childhood and young adulthood in a puppy mill. Most of the dogs who were recovered with her — 11 of the 16 — died shortly after they were seized by animal services in Georgia. I can only imagine that her taciturn nature is both a result of the horrible experiences she had (three litters of puppies before she was 18 months old among other things) and part of her survival strategy. Marcie is very reserved and quiet — she had lived with me for three years before I ever heard her make a sound — and very loving with cats and people she knows well; I wonder sometimes if she is completely cheerful but she seems content most of the time.

Anyway, like a lot of puppy mill dogs, Marcie has always had terrible teeth. They’ve been extracted one by one over the years, but today, recognizing that all of her canine teeth were practically parrallel to the jawbone and that none of the molars met, the very nice dog dentist Dr. Michael Peak recommended that it was time for total toothlessness. (Also, the spaces around the teeth accumulate bacteria which affect dogs’ health in other ways.)

This is a challenging procedure not just because of the tiny bones of Italian Greyhounds but because their low body fat makes anesthesia tricky. Dr. Peak used only light sedation (isoflurane) with Marcie and some nerve blocking shots around the gumline. And of course Marcie had plenty of dog tranquilizers and painkillers plus subcutaneous and IV fluids.

Also, Marcie is simply much younger — Astra was 16 years old when she had her major extraction and bone graft! — than her sister was undergoing the same procedure.

Naturally I asked to keep the teeth, which you see here, and to have lots of photos.

However I do not think either Marcie nor myself was prepared for embarking on the new adventure of canine cuisine we are now faced with addressing. Marcie already was used to a lot of food — soup, stew, oatmeal, various kinds of cooked vegetables — she just sort of slurped up (not to mention the diet staples of ice cream and yogurt — what can I say?) but if people have ideas about what else a tooth-free IG might subsist on, that would be great.

The excision of Marcie’s tusks are certainly a loss to the world of Italian Greyhound glamour but I think you can see she is going to quickly make a good showing of the “tongue as accessory” thing.

“When he saw me thus launched on yet another enraptured description of what I had observed, he looked at me with desperately sad eyes and said in obvious despair: ‘But Selye try to realize what you are doing before it is too late! You have now decided to spend your entire life studying the pharmacology of dirt.’ ”
– (Hans Selye, The Stress of Life, 1956)

Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things PosterLook at this hip art show poll! I will be curating an as-yet-to-be-named art show going up September 7 at USF’s Centre Gallery. The special guest artists will be USF Masters of Fine Arts candidates, maybe, and maybe some other local and regional art stars too. The reason the show is lacking a name is because its title will be decided the democratic way: through your votes.

A manifesto detailing the curator’s philosophy and the inspiration for this cultural insurgency will be forthcoming, but for now I welcome your vote. Please feel free to post your suggestions for alternative names in the comments section, and thank you for participating. — Jean Carey

What should be the name of the mid-September show at USF's Centre Gallery?

  • Over Everything (82%, 9 Votes)
  • Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things (18%, 2 Votes)

Total Voters: 11

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Continuing the experiment, here is a video from YouTube of  Astra and Marcie napping Italian Greyhounds Sleeping filmed in 2007.

To get back with the blog, I am experimenting with Blackberry uploading technology.

astra

Astra Carey, 31 October 1992-9 January 2009

My darling girl and the love of my life Astra died at 6:30 p.m. 9 January 2009.

She spent her final day being extremely boisterous for her breakfast at 5:30 a.m., being variously sat beside and sat upon by her young sister, Marcie, and taking in as many B-movies as it is possible for a deaf, blind, elderly dog to absorb, all things she did most days for many years.

Astra was an amazing Italian Greyhound. During her long life she climbed the Bridal Veil falls trail and played in the falls’ freezing spray, ran on Miami Beach at sunrise, chased armadillos and wild boars, aspirated a sandspur, consumed an entire bag of dark chocolate, was stung by a bee, dove into an alligator-infested river, and walked thousands of miles with me in all sorts of environments. Astra survived all her adventures and misadventures with good cheer and a hearty appetite. Over the years I said many prayers to Saint Francis and Saint Mary imploring them to watch over and protect this loving, gentle soul and I believe she is receiving a warm welcome in paradise tonight and rejoining her sister, Queequeg, who went first as always a few years ago.

Until arthritis affected her range of motion these final years, the first sound I heard every morning after the alarm clock was Astra’s tail, thumping the bed, ready to greet another day in happiness and with love.

Astra was frequently infatuated with animals of other species, particularly rabbits and cats, and though her affections were often misunderstood she remained steadfast.

I have no other words to express my grief but also my ineffable gratitude at having had so many wonderful years with such a wonderful child.

Green Turtle, Albino,

[Green turtle, albino. By David Monniaux]

“To photograph is to appropriate the thing photographed.”

On Photography, Susan Sontag’s exhaustive critique of photography, which excoriated photographers even as it elevated the art form, opens (in the 1977 book form of the collected essays) with the chapter “In Plato’s Cave.” Arranged and edited in this manner this chapter is meant to serve as the introduction to Sontag’s collection of ideas on the sociological implications of the medium of photography.
So much has been written by and about Sontag with respect to the construction and importance of these essays, and so much biographical detail about Sontag has come to light since her death a few years ago, that is it difficult to consider “In Plato’s Cave” unto itself, separate from that information, let alone separate from the other essays in the collection.
Basically, Sontag takes humankind to task, as did Plato, for sitting around accepting whatever images that happen to dance past as a perfect mirror (or projection) of reality and judges photographers equally harshly for approaching their subjects with acquisitiveness and predation. Sontag investigates the simile of the cave but more deeply the metaphor of the mirror.
I was interested to learn that Sontag had also written extensively about Persona, the 1966 Ingmar Bergman film, probably around the same time she began the series of essays that are collected in On Photography. Persona can also be construed as being about mirroring, and also about a kind of (seemingly) passive transmission and reception of knowledge, as well as a complicated examination about the relationship between the beholder and the beheld. Persona is open to interpretation as a horror movie rather than a psychological study, one in which a very modern sort of vampire sucks the being from a similar but not identical human. Continue reading »

Pere Ubu by Dora Maar, 1936

Pere Ubu by Dora Maar, 1936

Authorship by Dora Maar gives this photograph authentic historic and even feminist credibility but I chose it because my main interest in art overall is the representation of animals. This is a very interesting view of a creature commonly seen in Florida (and all over), an armadillo (though this armadillo is of a different species than the nine-banded creatures who sadly cannot navigate traffic).
There is something primitive and otherwordly about armadillos and whatever Maar’s intent may have been in elevating such a seemingly lowly creature into this eerie portrait it is quite a lovely study. Since Maar was interested in primitivism, this seems apt.
With respect to technique, placing the pale, scaly armadillo against a grainy dark background removes it from a natural setting and allows for contemplation of the texture of its skin. The shadows on its chest accentuate its claws. There is no way to tell, framed in this manner, how big the armadillo is, whether he is, as Maar’s title suggests, “king” sized, or tiny like a fetus, which the armadillo also resembles.


Though Trent Reznor allegedly dislikes this video and will not perform “The Perfect Drug” live, here is further proof, as if any is needed, that this is one of Nine Inch Nails’s best efforts.


San Francisco Art Institute Suspends Animal Snuff Video Exhibit

Public forum scheduled for Monday, March 31st to open up dialogue

An installtion by Adel Abdessemed exhibit entitled “Don’t Trust Me” consisting of six televisions displaying video images of six different animals — a doe, a goat, a horse, an ox, a pig, and a sheep — being bludgeoned to death with a largesledgehammer has been removed by the San Francisco Art Institute (SFAI), the installation’s sponsor. For once I think this redaction, which can and will be called censorship, was correct. What do you think?

Astra Invention

Astra finds her way to the doorway.
Astra has a New Year’s present, a motion-activated dual 150 watt sensor light that activates when she steps close to the path to the door.
Since her cataract debrasion Astra can apparently detect a general sense of brightness and she has taught herself very quickly to keep the sensor activated by remain in in its sphere and to then to navigate by the flagstones.

The Horse Fair by Rosa Bonheur

The Horse Fair: It’s not Nivernais
“Labourages Nivernais (Ploughing in the Nivernais)” by Rosa Bonheur

If 19th century French painter Rosa Bonheur believed in reincarnation, she would surely have chosen to return to life not as one of the regal lions or leggy gazelles she shared her Bordeaux estate with, but as a sturdy, common barnyard bull. The slyly successful painter had great affection for domestic animals, and enjoyed her greatest artistic success depicting them.
Bonheur was especially adept at imbuing cattle with nobility without giving them airs of humanity.
Though best known for The Horse Fair (1853), a canvas from a few years later in her career, Labourages Nivernais, completed in 1850, is actually a less derivative, more personal, visually individualistic image of Bonheur’s favorite creatures. Nivernais also marks the beginning of a period of commercial and public success for Bonheur, a good fortune enjoyed by few women artists then as now.
At first glance, Nivernais seems a relatively innocuous, though beautifully rendered, ode to agrarian life, and there is nothing “incorrect” with that interpretation. However, Nivernais offers much more to viewers who, like the team of oxen shown, take the time to turn over the well-trodden earth.
Rosa Bonheur, was born in Bordeaux, France on March 16, 1822, the eldest child of Sophie Marquis and Raimond Oscar-Marie Bonheur. The couple called the baby Marie Rosalie, but she almost immediately came to be known as Rosa.
Her father, himself a painter and philosopher, and artists with whom he was friends captured many images of the youthful RB.
Her father shows RB the infant idolized as a cherub in a crib in a painting in 1823. By the time Raimond Bonheur captured Rosa at Four, the child had the set jaw, solemn gaze, erect posture and short tousled hair that would identify her for the rest of her life.
One alleged portrait of RB, showing a square-jawed, serious child in a brimmed hat with feather trim, was painted by Jean Baptiste Camille Corot. After RB’s death, though, her companion Anna Klumpke, came forward to say that she thought the sitter for the portrait was instead a male. Such confusion regarding appearance and gender shadowed RB all her life.
Continue reading »

“Guennol Lioness” 4“Guennol Lioness” 2“Guennol Lioness” 1

The tiny Guennol Lioness was sold at Sotheby’s antiquities auction the first week of December by one private collector to another, with reports referencing but not naming a British archaelogist as the person who paid more than $57 million for this piece found near Baghdad and believed to have been made in Elam, what is now Iran, in about 3000 B.C.

Certainly there will be whines and complaints if the lioness is not displayed in public (she had been on view at a museum in Brooklyn), but it’s hard to imagine who in the world will be sympathetic to these gripes as the Axis Against Evil continues to park its tanks and bombs atop whatever other treasures may reside in the rubble of the library and other sites in the Cradle of Civilzation.

I wouldn’t blame the new owner for keeping the Guennol Lioness in a quiet, private place. She is an amazing creature and it’s enough for her to be safe and protected.

There has been quiet lately. We still miss our little dog so much it seems impossible to think of rattling on without her being present. Every day, Astra and I look for hours at the place where the girls slept in the sun, and the minutes drag as the light moves across that patch. Astra misses having her own personal guide dog far more than I had expected. We will all always miss Quee. This photo is one of the last I have of the girls taking their habitual nap together. They both looked melancholy in advance. Quee and Astra

Queequeg Carey died on Wednesday, November 15, 2006, in Coral Gables, Florida. She was fifteen years old. The cause of death was kidney failure, against which she waged a brief and very fierce battle.

Born on the Ides of March, Queequeg was known for her intelligence, mischief making, and love of humans, dogs, cats, and rabbits. She enjoyed chasing but not harming squirrels and particularly ducks. Queequeg lived on three continents, visited 37 American states, and several times scaled the Bridal Veil Falls trail. She liked to sleep in the sun and be warm and once dragged a pillow she wished to nap on so close to a fireplace the cushion caught fire, with her on it (she was unscorched).

Queequeg was particularly loved by the citizens of Utah, where she lived for several years, and even became something of a local celebrity. The column named for her in the Daily Herald called “Queequeg’s Question” remains one of Utah’s most popular news features. Her antics were immortalized in a hilarious piece by author and entertainer Eric Snider in a story called “Stuff Happens.”
Queequeg is survived by her Uncle Paul, Grandfather Raymond, her sister and lifelong companion Astra and her younger sister Marcie, and by her mother, Jean, who could not have loved Queequeg more had she come from her own body.queegreen.jpg

queemarcie.JPGLook at Marcie’s apple head! She was being very attentive to her sister last week, behaving civilly for a change…maybe she intuited something not yet known.

There hasn’t been any posting for a while, nor the promised Live Dog Cam, for a couple reasons. First Astra was very sick…she had to have 17 of her teeth pulled (her exploits chronicled hereastrasurg1.JPG). Then Queequeg, not to be outdone, began experiencing the kidney failure that commonly, critically becomes an issue for dogs of her age.

Queequeg is at Coral Gables Animal Hospital tonight, on an IV. It is hard to know what to do. I swore I wouldn’t subject her to the horrible indignities Moshe had to go through before she died…and that’s the consideration; they are old, and they die anyway. I hope I can keep my promise to her, but it’s so hard to accept the tough little dog … not being around. It’s not like with Astra; Astra just doesn’t care, and she wants to live, dignity or none. Queequeg has quite the opposite personality. She would sign a DNR if she could.

I guess we will all try to sleep and see what tomorrow brings.

Yesterday was Astra’s fifteenth birthday, and I am happy now we spent it quietly, with just a little bit of celebrating, a few treats and lots of hugs and napping.

In August when Dr. Thomas was treating Astra for a terrible infection, the prognosis was not good. Astra is extremely old for an IG and I know our time together is not long, but I am forever grateful for the autumn days we’ve had together. I have to say Astra has had possibly every food it would be imaginable to feed a dog – kale, squid, corn chowder, pickled ginger, and of course lots of her favorite, gelato.

In these stressful days — the fall always seems to bring with it anxiety — in this city where bonds shared between animals, people, and people who love animals are treated as an egregious social aberration — I am happy too to have a reason to remember that it’s the girls who matter, the girls, my dad, my brother; and the grace of God that has brought them to and kept them in my life for all these many years.

Here’s a girl who takes after her mom in love of dairy products…icecreamgoodness1.jpg

An elderly and vain dog who loves to strike a pose. queesept06.JPG

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