MY LOUSY WORLD: My new dog … A work of art

Posted 4/7/16

I almost made that tragic mistake with the March 17 edition of the Tribune, just before I noticed an excellent drawing of a pre-teen cowpoke holding a Pepsi and leaning against a wagon wheel with a gorgeous, black and white border collie by his …

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MY LOUSY WORLD: My new dog … A work of art

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My house is littered with unread newspapers of every ilk and my DVR library 98 percent full for the same reason it’s foolhardy not to read every section of your favorite newspaper: You’ll never know what priceless gem you have denied your brain forever.

I almost made that tragic mistake with the March 17 edition of the Tribune, just before I noticed an excellent drawing of a pre-teen cowpoke holding a Pepsi and leaning against a wagon wheel with a gorgeous, black and white border collie by his side. I shrieked, “What the Sam Hill? Is that my new dog, Gabriel?”

Since I live alone, my neighbors get concerned when I shriek, so I quickly calmed down and noticed my border collie’s white nose stripe is slightly narrower than the portrait hound. But the charcoal drawing was striking, as was the one above it of an Asian cowboy holding a Gatorade.

There were several others, including three fetching cowgirls and pretty barmaid serving Mountain Dew, and one of a raven-haired cowgirl, lovingly giving her beautiful horse a sip of Pepsi. I couldn’t help but notice a common theme to all these charcoal drawings — there was a cowboy hat in nearly every one. Oh yeah, and each features a Pepsi product.

And that’s where the actual reading comes in. Unlike my Playboy subscription years ago, the story is everything. As I began reading Tessa’s excellent article, I quickly realized that Pepsi — like Yoo Hoo, a fine product indeed — is the whole point. That’s who signs the paychecks to artist Clay Neubert.  

A couple thoughts came to me as I digested the article. First off, I plan on working Pabst Blue Ribbon into each of my future columns. Hopefully, a Pabst employee traveling through Powell will notice my column and soon the national company will hire me not only to write, but to give training seminars at their headquarters.

Hey, if it happened to Clay, it can happen to me.

The other thing that struck me was that art beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder. These Neubert originals appear every bit as skillfully done as many I’ve seen on the walls of the Buffalo Bill Museum. About 20 years ago, a good friend, Bill Lachenmyer, who’s since bought his own art gallery in Mount Shasta, California, worked at the Big Horn Gallery. One day I visited him at work and browsed the paintings — many of which I just didn’t “get,” with prices that made me lose all my color.

And then I noticed a discount wall and a painting of four cows — three standing and one lounging in front of a full moon. “Now THAT is art!” I says to myself. You coulda knocked me over with a crayon when I saw this masterpiece titled “Moonshine,” by Bonnie Marris, was under 50 bucks.

I’ve seen Rembrandts that impress me less. That beautiful painting hangs on my living room wall today, just below a huge cobweb I would sweep down, but it seems to enhance it. On that same wall hangs a second prized piece— a framed charcoal of a cute, young raccoon hanging from a tree branch. It remains an unknown artist since he has the scribbled signature of a medical doctor.

I also bought that one decades ago for under 50 dollars, yet both of them are so good, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn both artists were missing an ear. And that’s how I feel about Clay Neubert’s artwork — they’re as good or better than expensive ones I’ve seen in galleries. But my favorite is definitely “Looking Towards Tomorrow” with the kid and the dog that looks just like my beloved border collie I rescued months ago.

I’ll write more in a future column about Gabriel, but suffice to say, he didn’t live a charmed life his first 11 or so years outside alone at the end of a chain. After a month of sneaking in to visit and feed the sweet, lonely guy, I made a cash offer the father/son didn’t refuse. He immediately got a new name, a vet examination and long-overdue neuter, and a beautiful grooming for his matted, smelly coat.

Nearly every day someone stops to say how much better he looks. There’s new life in his eyes, he plays like a pup when so inspired, and while loving our walks, he seems to cherish the warmth of my couch and has never once tinkled in my house. He’s a genuine blessing I give thanks for every day.

I also extend thanks to Tessa’s article and Clay Neubert’s great artwork that inspired me to introduce you to Gabe. I’d love to show my appreciation by one day soon coming over and buying them both a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon.

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