DOGS

Most of us like or love dogs - well, well-trained dogs anyhow. 

And they serve a wonderful service to the incapacitated, lonely, desirous of love and much else. 

Because of these attributes, we make allowances for the smell that comes with training puppies, the sometimes boisterousness, the annoying barkers, the molting hairs, the yapping, the fighting, not to mention the biting and the very occasional killing of sheep and people.

It is lovely to both onlooker and owner to see the devoted glances given by the dog to its owner - sometimes expecting food as a reward. 

But, of course, there are snags. They sadly don’t last that long, and the vet would have them suffering from countless ills - for which the owner pays extravagantly. Some bills I have read about are astronomical and, like rockets, rise inordinately. 

Many dogs are plain ugly, yet owners seem to dote on them, regardless of looks. Handsome or ugly, theft is a problem.

They serve their purpose in towns and cities, but really need the countryside for the exercise they demand and their owners enjoy - regardless of the weather.

And when a dog has a real purpose in the form of a job to do, it is a happy creature and much admired. 

When I first went to Holland, dogs were used to pull churns in small wagons for milk distribution to households. 

When I lived and was brought up in the country, our two dogs were working dogs but also lived with us in the house.

One, Bunty, was the rat-catcher and fox-scarer, and Ben had an eye for our chicken farm’s business. 

If an order came in for a fat bird for roasting, my father would select one by eye (all free range in those days) and indicate to Ben which it was. Ben would then catch it and press it to the ground with his paws for my father to pick up. 

We bred from the dogs and their puppies were much sought-after. 

Now that most owners pick up their pet’s mess to be disposed of, is a huge advance. 

I don’t know what it is like now in Paris, for instance, but it was not so long ago that one might miss the sights for having to pay regard to the excrement on the pavement.

By and large, they are wonderful creatures, and all ages seem to love to pat and stroke them.

We have a dog that needs no attention, is quiet, sits watching everything, needs no food or water, is loved by children, and is cold in the winter and warm in the summer. It is a bronze dog, full-size and almost solid bronze, smooth in bits and sharp in unexpected places. It is very heavy. 

It guards a few old tennis balls. Ugly? Some people think it is a sheep. Loved? Yes. much. 

This dog of ours has a history, a pedigree, a provenance, and a past.

When Menache Kadishman was an art student in London, I suppose in about 1970, he took a dog in plaster form, to art dealer Freddy Mayor’s London gallery hoping to sell i

Freddy, who had wonderful taste in art, told Kadishman that he could not sell a plaster, but would have the dog cast in bronze and then offer it for sale. 

This was duly done, and dog, now in bronze form, surprisingly languished at the gallery.

When my eldest son was born, I bought dog for my ex-wife as a present. She, in turn, gave it to the firstborn 

who didn't like it and gave it (or sold it) to his brother. This son needed money, so I purchased it from him. Now I have bought dog twice. After all, it is a family dog and happy with us.

And should it ever be sold (God forbid) it should go back to the Mayor Gallery from whence it came.

Dealers in those days (Freddy anyhow) were usually friends with their clients who, when necessary, would only sell artworks back to their dealer - generally at a profit. And Freddy had such a wonderful eye for art that anything that went through his gallery was top-class. He only dealt in the best, and with honesty - unlike what we hear about practices in the art world of today. 

But art is a business, and times have changed.

Our dog, though born and bred in England was, so we hear, cast in bronze again in Israel - which sometimes happens to bronzes.

That’s the way of the art business now. And making more casts makes more money. 

At least we have the original - and it might be aware of it.