Oskar!


Why "Oskar" with a "k"? It's only that the "k" reminds me of my favorite cinematic Oskar, played by David Bennent in Volker Schlondorff's The Tin Drum. Why have a pet at all, if you aren't going to embed a cryptic movie reference? I never thought I was a dog person. That doggy smell, wet and musky, always made my stomach lurch. But Oskar has become such a beloved baby-substitute, such a Dickensian waif with those sad, dewy eyes, it is taking all my stamina and the barest trace of self-respect not to plant a big ole kiss on his gooey doggy lips. Must. Not. Turn. Into. One. Of. Those. People.

I won't name the very high profile Atlanta gallerist who once tried to get me to kiss her pooch. I thought it crossed a line, in an art world where there are no lines. But now with my own dark, goofy dog-love tendencies awakened, the impulse doesn't seem quite so bizarre to me. I don't know if that's growth.

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