If I Could Talk to the Animals, by Martha Thomases – Brilliant Disguise

March 12, 2010 Martha Thomases 0 Comments

A friend of mine from high school invited me to a lecture she was giving at the Salamagundi Club. Since I’m nothing if not loyal (and it wasn’t raining), I went.

The night before, I had to have the requisite dream about high school one has before any kind of reunion, major or minor.  This time, for some reason, my son was part of the dream, and he and I were breaking into the office of Mr. DV, the gentleman who wrote the college recommendations and, in my case, implied that I would instigate student riots (yes, that really happened).  First, however, I had to take my boy to the dorms, sneaking him in because no boys were allowed – not even fathers – and show him the secret passageway that led to the hidden room where I kept my comic books.  I think this means I (or, more precisely, my subconscious) expect my son to redeem me, and I’d like to publicly apologize here and now.

With that confession out of the way, let’s get on with my real topic.  Laurie was talking about painting animals, which she does professionally. She had wonderful images of the farm where she raised her kids, and the animals she painted there:  cows, dogs, sheep, horses.  She talked about the dogs of New York, their infinite variety and relationships.  She talked about studying breeds.  She talked about marketing her business.

It’s not really possible to have a dog sit for a portrait, so Laurie works from photographs.  In most cases, she takes them herself.  From the photos, she does sketches and, when the client approves, she paints the final image.  She showed a bunch of examples demonstrating her main point.

The main point, she said, was the personality to be found in the dogs’ eyes.  She said that once she captured the eyes, the rest of the painting was easy.

Then she said she doesn’t like to paint cats.

Naturally, I went home and tried to take a picture of my own cat, Midnight, that showed her eyes and, therefore, her personality.  As you can see on the right, I did manage to get a shot of her with her eyes open.  Is that her real self?  Yes, in the sense that she looks annoyed at me for trying to take her picture.

Is that all she is?  No.

You can’t see her when she is sitting by her dish, waiting for the food to materialize.  You can’t see her when she’s stalking the piece of ribbon I’m dragging behind me, ready to pounce.  You can’t see her on John’s lap, the only lap she tolerates.

Yes, she’s a cat.  She spends most of her day asleep, and the rest of her time expecting tribute.  She does not deign to seek approval, like a dog, unless she wants something.  Cats are not as interactive as dogs.  They don’t need to be.

I do love dogs.  I grew up with them, and I would have one now if I had the room for the kind of dog I like.  My taste in dogs is quite different from my taste in cats.  I love the cats who reject me.  It’s the way I channeled my desire for all the men who rejected me (ha!  you may not want me, but you need me).  In dogs, I like the herding dogs who will keep me safe from predatory beasts, and who will boss me around.

When I retire, I hope to live in a place that facilitates having the kind of dog I want, perhaps a border collie mix.  This dog will make me exercise at least twice a day, walking through the neighborhood and making me bend over to pick up poop.  This dog will steer me to doctor’s appointments and other appointments.

And this dog will sit in my lap.  Unless John has the treats.

Martha Thomases, Media Goddess, does not have a secret room with her comics.  They are just in storage.