This column is mostly about western art and dogs. Let’s start with the dogs. I have never counted the number of dogs I have had in my life but it has been plenty. The most I have ever had at one time is three and the least, one. I remember well my first dog. He was a sort of black lab by the name of Jinx. We called him that because he would chase cars on Tenth Street when it was the main highway to Great Falls. He would get hit frequently, go quickly to our Dry Cleaning Plant on Tenth Street and get under the big steam boiler until he was well again.
My present dog is a wiener dog, long haired at that and his name is Fala. Fallie we all call him or even Fal. He is a very good dog and a great friend for me. He checks on me often and lets me know if I am doing anything out of the ordinary.
When I say that Fala is a very good dog and a very good friend, I am really saying that if I have had twenty to thirty dogs in my life, I have never found one that was not a good dog and a very good friend.
The strangest of all my dogs were two Golden Retrievers I had in the 1980’s. Both of them were so shy that if they had to go out and poop, I never ever saw them doing their business. They would disappear into a thicket of some kind and come out when they were finished. That was always amazing to me.
The western art that graces the rooms of my house is much like my dogs. It gives me great comfort all through the day.
I have, among other things, a large picture of Grandpa Lucke on my chest of drawers. In front of the picture and staring intently at Grandpa Lucke is a wooden loon. The loon looks like he either wants to fall in love with Grandpa or peck him. Next to the loon are two of my favorite of all things in my house. There are two Buffalo Head ducks, tine little things, full mounts with heads the size of a silver dollar and very narrow. Grandpa Lucke shot them both in 1925 and since the Lou Lucke Company closed in 1964, they have been my responsibility. About five years ago I got them cleaned and they look just great. Only thing is they look like they are going after that loon that is going after Grandpa Lucke. As if to protect him if you get my jest. I look at them all and giggle at all because if they only knew that Grandpa Lucke murdered them, they would be after the loon to do bodily harm to Grandpa.
Such it is in my room. I blame it on the brandy. I have a glass of brandy before going to bed. Then my imagination really starts to work and I see all sorts of things in the art around the house.
I bought a large picture at the dime store when I was about eight and gave it to my parents for Christmas to hang over a fireplace in our livingroom. I still have it to this day. It hangs in my mother’s room over her bed. I like to say that picture is my dabbling in dime store art.
What will ever happen to all those treasures when I am no longer around?
