PAINTING PETS thanks to my dog in Heaven
My beloved pup was determined his memory would live on. By Claire Wild, 42
My dog, Homer, huffed and puffed his way into the living room before collapsing onto his bed and looking up at me sadly.
‘Tired again, love?’ I asked, raising an eyebrow. Then I looked at my husband, Jason, 40.
‘He’s been sleeping a lot lately,’ I said, concerned.
We’d bought Homer, a Dogue de Bordeaux, two years earlier as a present for our son Sean, then nine. ‘It’ll help him cope if anything happens to Harvey,’ I’d told Jason.
Harvey was our Jack Russell Boxer cross and, at the ripe old age of 15, I’d been worried he didn’t have long left.
Now, though, while Harvey still stomped energetically around the house, it was
Homer I was worried about.
When we visited the vet it was bad news: Homer had a mass on his stomach and she suspected it was cancerous.
Normally we didn’t let the dogs in our room, but that night, I let him curl up at the foot of the bed.
But the next morning, the bedroom floor was covered in sheets of A4 paper, each one covered in inky paw prints.
We’d left out a carrier bag full of art supplies for Sean’s school project and Homer had clearly had fun with it overnight.
‘You daft mutt,’ I said. It was impossible to be cross when we were about to learn whether he had a serious illness...
‘I’m sorry,’ the vet said when we went back to pick up his test results that morning.
‘Homer has bowel cancer. The kindest thing would be to let him go...’
Devastated, I hadn’t had the heart to get rid of Homer’s artwork and, six weeks after we’d said goodbye, I sat on the bed staring at it. ‘Why did you leave these for me?’ I asked sadly.
I glanced over at the bag of pens and paintbrushes Homer had got into. I’d loved drawing and painting when I was younger, but I hadn’t picked up a brush in 20 years.
Now I felt an overwhelming sense that Homer was telling me to go back to it. It was as though he was in front of me, pawing at my leg and guiding me to paint.
First, I painted Homer and gave him angel wings. ‘Happy now?’ I asked as I posted the picture on Instagram.
Within days, I had a message. ‘Will you draw my dog?’ a stranger from the US asked.
‘Sure,’ I replied, glad to have something to focus on.
After that, more people from America got in touch and… I had a light bulb moment.
‘I’m going to draw a pet from each state,’ I told Jason. ‘In exchange for a donation to an animal cancer charity.’
Over the next year, I created likenesses including Zoe the black lab in Alaska and Karl, a goose from Maine! After 14 months, I’d raised £300 for the Animal Cancer Foundation.
Then I drew Felix, the famous Huddersfield Station cat. I put the pic up for auction and it sold for £200, which I gave to charity.
And I made cards, raising over £1000 for Support Dogs UK.
I believe the mess Homer created was no accident. And sometimes, at night, I still feel a soft weight curled up at the foot of the bed and know exactly who it is.
I hadn’t picked up a brush in 20 years