A year.
It's been a year since I buried my face in Jones' bunny fur and told him that nothing could be wrong with him,
that I would never survive losing him before he was old and smelled and had dandruff.
"It's just that you have to stop eating so much!" I cooed and petted, to which he replied with his well-oiled-machine purr
and a head-butt, back when he was still well enough to give them in spades.
.
It's been
one year since we realized that the weight gain around his middle was getting bigger faster than food could ever affect
A year since I fumbled around trying to balance third trimester pregnancy with caring for a dying animal body
.
A year since a piece of me traveled into The Mystery with him
.
A request for a pet portrait saw me beginning this painting last December
before we thought anything of anything at all.
It remained three-quarters finished all year
until yesterday
during Orion's afternoon nap
.
"Why not?" I shrugged
since the last few months have found me remembering him with a smile only
no tears welling
no regret at the details (why do we torture ourselves so?)
and so I am finishing this painting, stroke by stroke
and recalling all the things that made his eyes sparkle just so
and oh those stately whiskers
a poised stance that spoke of being ready for anything
of the hunt
and love for us, his humans
.
Oh, Jones....
my magnificent bastard, my first baby boy...
it's so nice to have been yours.
.
I am offering a limited number of pet portraits:
I have several gallery-style 11 X 14 canvases
and the desire to capture a drop of spirit
in black and white acrylic.
If you are interested, please
me
.
xoxo,
A