" Gloria taught me something I'd never known. That is, that you don't just have to have a dog around as a pet or a watchdog. You and the dog can become friends". ~ Jimmy Stewart
In the Latter part of the summer months we were busily renovating, juggling all the little orbs of life that it threw at us and basically eliminating much of our treasures free time which one relishes to enjoy, especially in the warm days of summer. Fortunately there was some time allotted for reading and watching a few films at night and of course I took in a few flicks of Jimmy Stewart's.
I have always adored Jimmy Stewart and aside from Clint Eastwood being my favourite actor Jimmy was right there beside him only that I could relate to Mr. Stewart on a more normal everyday way; just really didn't know why. He was liked so much so even President Truman thought so when he said "If Bess and I has a son, we'd want him to be just like Jimmy Stewart". As usual, like most of us, I wandered down a path that in someway had connected with me and I began reading about Jimmy Stewart.Not surprisingly I discovered why I loved him so.Not only was he an incredible actor but it turns out he was quite a guy off screen.A gentleman who was "gracious and warm to both strangers and those who were barely familiar to him" for he always was in good humour especially so when out walking his dog Beau.Mr. Stewart always had a smile and hello according to Craig who lived around the corner from him.
The more I read about him the more I fell head over heels on Jimmy Stewart all over again. And then I came across a clip of a Late Night Show appearance he did with Johnny Carson and spoke about his dog named "Beau", I was touched by his deep appreciation of his love for his pet. This was just another trait of Mr. Stewart that I could relate to not to mention he had also written a poem for his beloved dog named Beau. Myself and my family know very well what he spoke about in his poem and I quickly ordered his book from the library and had fun reading his poetry once again enjoying the poem he wrote for his pet.
I mentioned a while back on Paint Party Friday I was painting some characters for a children's book I was writing and although it is a very huge task for me for I am neither a writer or artist I do know I am lucky to realize that I possess some tools to achieving my goal,
one being a very important, f not the key element to my success....."You can anything you want , if you want it desperately enough ". I'm not sure who wrote the quote although I remember reading a quote of Jim Carrey's saying something similar but essentially conveying same message and I have to agree that the desire has to be tremendous of which I know I truly own. Sadly, during our renovations we lost our beloved pet Bandit (Our vampire love bird ). I wouldn't go into the details of his death for it will be in my book but what I can say is how much his passing was a mirror image of a human's departure from this earth.
Bandit RIP 2011
And so I leave you this week with a few art renderings my daughter M did in digital paint for our pet cat, our fat house cat Elliot ~ Elly Angel. I will also include a few pics I want to submit to Costco for their photography contest they are having this month and hope to get some feed back from all of you of which ones you think would be good submissions.
Ranger the therapy cat whose owner Marc Lacourciere graciously agreed to let me enter him in the contest. I'm not sure how many I can enter but I know it is more than one so feel free to point out a few possible entries, thanks.
AND ONE MORE THING , I WILL BE HAVING A GIVEAWAY THIS COMING MONTH SATURDAY OCTOBER 1st FOR SOME VERY SPECIAL COMPUTER IMAGING SOFTWARE VALUED AT $80 WITH AN ADDITIONAL WORK OF ART DONE BY ME INCLUDED IN THE PRIZE, SO PLEASE DO COME BACK EACH WEEK FOR THE UPDATES : )
Rip*** Elly 2001~2008
Ranger the Maine Coon Therapy Cat ~ owner Marc Lacourciere
Grace our golden angel
Elly playing Grandma ~ Flickr admirer tagged him that name....I think it fits puurfecatly...lol
Carson the Vampire Church Cat
A Lovely furry bunch
Carson sick to his stomach after his bath
And once again Grace our golden mermaid who adores water! Would really appreciate some thoughts from everyone who visits.....thanks a bunch! So now here is Jimmy's poem about his beloved dog named Beau
***** "Beau" ***** by Jimmy Stewart
He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball,
Or he felt like it,
But mostly he didn’t come at all.
When he was young
He never learned to heel
Or sit or stay,
He did things his way.
Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn’t drag.
He’d dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
And when I’d grab him, he’d turn and bite me.
He bit lots of folks from day to day,
The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
The gas man wouldn’t read our meter,
He said we owned a real man-eater.
He set the house on fire
But the story’s long to tell.
Suffice it to say that he survived
And the house survived as well.
On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
He was always first out the door.
The Old One and I brought up the rear
Because our bones were sore.
He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
What a beautiful pair they were!
And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
They created a bit of a stir.
But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
And with a frown on his face look around.
It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
And would follow him where he was bound.
We are early-to-bedders at our house–
I guess I’m the first to retire.
And as I’d leave the room he’d look at me
And get up from his place by the fire.
He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
And I’d give him one for a while.
He would push it under the bed with his nose
And I’d fish it out with a smile.
And before very long
He’d tire of the ball
And be asleep in his corner
In no time at all.
And there were nights when I’d feel him
Climb upon our bed
And lie between us,
And I’d pat his head.
And there were nights when I’d feel this stareAnd I’d wake up and he’d be sitting there
And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I’d feel him sigh
and I think I know the reason why.
He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
And he’d be glad to have me near.
And now he’s dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
And I pat his head.
And there are nights when I think
I feel that stare
And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
But he’s not there.
Oh, how I wish that wasn’t so,
I’ll always love a dog named Beau.
THIS POEM WAS PUBLISHED IN JIMMY STEWART AND HIS POEMS" BY JIMMY STEWART, A SHORT COLLECTION OF POEMS BY CROWN PUBLISHERS, INC. RELEASED IN 1989.
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