A misunderstanding about a gift...

So Gail, you went swanning off to the Edinburgh Festival for a couple of nights with your 'book group', leaving me behind with someone who is confused about what breed I am, and forgetting to give her my bedding. No doubt you are thoroughly ashamed of yourself and have bought me a whole sackful of treats in compensation?

Er, well, not exactly Bertie, but I did bring you this. 

This? A postcard purchased from the National Gallery of Scotland shop, depicting a painting of a Glen of Imaal terrier called Callum? Gail, I must say, even judged against your own abysmal present giving record, you have reached a new low this time. What on earth am I supposed to do with a postcard?

Well Bertie, the painting has a story behind it and I thought you might be interested. You see in 1895 Callum's owner James Cowan Smith commissioned this portrait from well known animal artist John Emms. Upon his - that is James Cowan Smith's - death in 1919,  he bequeathed the large sum of £55,000 to the National Gallery of Scotland, on condition that the painting of Callum was put on permanent display. And you can still see it there today, in among all the Monets, Titians, Poussins, Rubens etc. 

Oh, I see, I get it Gail. You are telling me that this is not just about the postcard. You are going to have some famous artist paint me, and then when you die you too will leave a large sum of money to our National Gallery and I will be on permanent display and remembered for ever and ever. Well Gail I must say I am most touched. That is a lovely present indeed, even if it does involve a rather strong element of deferred gratification…

Um, Bertie, to be strictly truthful, that wasn't actually quite what I meant… Perhaps we should change the subject and I'll tell you about the shows we saw at the Festival. Oh and I know, you would like to see a picture of Edinburgh in the rain wouldn't you?

Frankly Gail, I am so totally not interested.

Look. Here the sun is shining and it is time for my walk.

Flattering or an insult?

I have been mulling over this issue for quite a while, and have decided it might be useful to consult my blog friends.

Fellow pups, I suspect I am not the only chappie out there whose owner is tempted to decorate the house with images or ornaments depicting one's own breed of dog.

The question is, should we feel pleased that our humans find our appearance so appealing that the live version is not enough? Or be insulted that, indeed, we are not considered, of ourselves, sufficient?

My predecessor Hamish must have struggled greatly with this topic, given the ubiquity of Westie collectibles for sale in this part of the world. On the whole, since I belong to a more exclusive breed (I refuse to say 'less popular') it has not to date been such a problem for me. Gail, as we know, is not herself an enthusiastic shopper, and only the most dedicated of her friends have managed to track down wire-haired fox terrier related ornaments.

Well a few months ago, this all changed with the arrival of a sizeable oil painting.

I was shocked!

So much so that it is only now that I have summoned the strength to address the subject.

I mean, not one but FOUR wire-haired fox terriers taking up residence in our sitting room. And a pretty lively bunch they look too.

Gail says "Bertie, that is just the point. I saw this old painting for sale, attributed to a well known Victorian animal artist, and the way the terriers are shown is so, well, so real, so like you, so full of action and energy, I thought it just perfect".

Can you see the likeness?

Well perhaps after all I should consider it a compliment.

Although I thought Gail was going a bit far when she told me to "think of them as your new friends Bertie".