Houston

“When an eighty-five pound mammal licks your tears away
and then tries to sit on your lap, it’s hard to feel sad.”
~ Kristan Higgins

A new painting and new friends, with a great dog and good story.

Before Houston, and before Houston, the Mrs. of this happy family of two fell ill. So they traveled to Houston, Texas, for help. There she endured chemotherapy treatments that damaged her retinas, but saved her life. On her path to recovery, she was advised that she would likely need an assistance dog. 

Enter the Mr., who had forever and strongly insisted that they had no use for a smelly, shedding, wolfing-down-food and god-knows-what-else pest of a creature in their immaculate home.
       ~Aside: I’d like a dollar for every husband I’ve known who protested like this and then turned into the biggest, mushiest, puppy-smoocher on the planet after he had inevitably lost that battle!

Curve balls have a way of derailing the staunchest of rules! I think it’s funny, touching, dramatic, and absolute that the Mrs. would propose to her devoted husband: “If I live, can I have a dog?” They chuckle when they relate this gem in their story now.

Enter Houston… a fresh, new life that came along, clearly to embody the angel that she is. She was named after the healing place in Texas, and from puppyhood was trained to guide the Mrs… perfectly! When I was photographing her on a chaise in their bedroom, the Mrs. left for the kitchen (she’s doing very well) to fetch some treats. Houston sat in her pose (she’s secretly a prima donna), but never for a second took her eyes from the doorway. I was going through my usual bag of tricks to get her to look this way or that, but I could have set loose an army of squirrels wielding firecrackers, and she wouldn’t have broken her attention… a loyalty that filled the room!

This is Houston, kissed by the sun, grounded by purpose, a living gift on the stairway of life.

Houston
Oil on Belgian linen; 18 x 22”
Collection Hockenhull
©2019 Karen Killian

"A Dog and His Boy"

I can’t say where the spirit, or the bond, really comes from. It’s one of those things like talent: can it be taught? I’m sure it’s always all around, and if you tune to it, it’s something like oxygen.

The artist’s son: When we brought this child home the very first time in 1991, I lay him on a receiving blanket by the fireplace and said, “Dogs, there’s a baby!”

I had sent my husband home with blankets from the hospital, so the scent had been teased, but clearly they were unprepared for this tiny alien invasion. They sniffed, nuzzled, and finally tasted with tentative licks and quickened tails. But I had a spunky relationship with my mama Golden, so all I could imagine was, “Oh great, you had a puppy! I guess there are 4 or 5 more in the car? That’s nice. We’ll be selling them in eight weeks or so?” 

That was my jovial interpretation, but truthfully, silently and instantly, there was trust. They wouldn’t actually baby-sit, but those dogs stood by that little alien for the rest of their lives. Well, of course they did… life under the high chair was significantly gratifying! And the toddler was as happy in their beds as his own.

“A Dog and His Boy”
Oil on Belgian linen; 22 x 30″
Collection of the Artist
©2002 Karen Killian & The Orvis Company

When Alex was nine, we were in Lakeville, CT, on vacation at The Interlaken Inn. Down by the lake, we greeted fellow guests, sipping tea and reading books, toes in the water, all quiet and peaceful. I stood in the water and gave this eager boy his first oar. The rhythm came instinctively, and he took off. Now Paint, this third Golden in his life, hopped around on the shore, barking hysterically. I couldn’t contain his concern nor apologize enough to the others. Alex quickly pivoted back to shore, hollering, “Put him in the canoe! Put him in the canoe!” The size of this dog was only part of my objection to this twist. But Alex insisted, and we somehow hoisted his big, heavy, wet self into the boat. I sat aft, awed that the boy simply picked the oar right back up, and the dog settled down like it was home. Off we went. Until I became the loudly disturbed one… “OH NO, I don’t have my camera!!!”

The painting above is the result of yet another beaching of the canoe, a trek back to our room to fetch said camera, a return to the water, and a long ride that finally looked like a late fall afternoon in the Berkshires!

The dog wouldn’t stand for the boy drifting away. The boy wouldn’t hear of leaving the dog behind. And in that moment I knew that I had raised a dog-whisperer. I suppose you can chalk it up to the fact that Alex never knew a day without a dog. But I like the feeling that there’s something more mystical about it. An ease. A spirit? Alex and all the dogs in his life, to this day… they just know each other, no introductions necessary. Old as time, eternal as hope: The Spirit in Our Bond.

"Deal"

Simply celebrating our unspoken, unbreakable, priceless bond…

Oakley 'n me
Oil on Linen; 8 x 10″
©2007 Karen Killian
Collection of the Artist

Introducing THE SPIRIT in OUR BOND Project….

“We give dogs time we can spare, space we can spare and love we can spare. And in return, dogs give us their all. It’s the best deal man has ever made”  ~M. Facklam 

The Spirit in Our Bond

I’m trying to quantify the use of newsletters vs. facebook posts vs. a blog. Bear with me; techie people are yelling at me all the time, so… I’ll figure it out!

"Chessie"
Sunmark’s Cheshire Tide
Pencil on paper; 11 x 14”
Collection of the artist
©1989 Karen Killian

It’s been 30 years since I drew my first Golden, sittin’ on the dock of the (Chesapeake) bay. I credit her with my entire career …and with the fact that I’m part-dog myself!!! It’s been a great ride, and I’m aware that every bit of my (canine) work exists solely by virtue of the incredible bond that we share with our fluffy alter-egos! 

For now, I’ve been schooled that I must start communicating a New Project via a blog. (And I will continue to learn exactly why!) Let’s call it a 30th anniversary something. Or maybe The Spirit of Our Bond. It’s not so new to those of you who have followed me here over the years. But I want to laser-focus an exposé on the theme of this bond. I want to tell stories and take photographs and, along the way, paint some new paintings… all celebrating this indefatigable love!

I’d love to do a monthly story in a magazine. I’d love to write a book, which as you “old” followers of mine know, has been on my plate for an embarrassing number of unrealized years! And I’d leave in a minute to travel across the country to work on this project everywhere I meet an inspiring story!

A good friend, upon hearing of this grand scheme, said, “And who is gonna pay for that??!!??” I said, I know, I know… that’s what grants and sponsors are for! But first I must write the first stories, with the first paintings, in a new blog format and see how its legs grow. And I’ll post as I grow mine! The first post is a short intro with the handshake, or pawshake (depending on which side of the fur you’re on), “Deal”.

Comment, or write, or even call me, with any of your sentiments about this man-loves-dog world!