Art Appreciation

This morning while Richard and I sipped our first cups in the kitchen we heard a faint whining in the living room – a whine that preceded a growl that preceded a single, surprising bark that startled us both.  This was very unusual, as Willie is the most silent of dogs – the Marcel Marceau of canines – and he communicates primarily through tail wagging, ear cocking, and soulful gazing.

“What’s going on?” Richard asked as I looked up, both of us wondering what had put Willie into such a state of agitation that he issued forth an actual sound.   Willie was crouched in the middle of the room before a Korean wedding chest; from atop the chest, an antique Nandi from India – a carved, 8” bull standing on a crude painted pedestal — stared at Willie with the serene gaze common to Indian art.  Willie, staring back — and hard —  growled again.

“It’s okay, Willie,” I said as I entered the room.  “Did you just notice this?  It’s not going to hurt you.”  Willie glanced at me, unconvinced, and turned his attention back to the Nandi.  I picked it up, turned it upside down, and offered it to Willie for a sniff.  “See?  It’s a piece of wood.”  Willie tilted his head, still fixed on the Nandi’s face.

With Willie still watching me, I set the Nandi back on the chest.  Wondering how it looked from his perspective — just sixteen inches off the floor, I crouched down for a Willie-eye-view, transforming the familiar furnishings of the room into something alien – like props in a horror movie.  From here, that Nandi looked a lot like a Chihuahua.  And Ollie, the only Chihuahua Willie has met has attacked and bitten him twice.

“It’s a sculpture, Willie,” I say again. “It’s not alive.”

“Well, neither are his plush toys,” Richard said from the kitchen, “but sometimes he has to kill them anyway, just to make sure.”