Look At That Van Go

I don’t like to brag but I consider myself a bit of an artist.

I’m not saying I should be confused with some of the whack jobs in the industry, because I gotta be honest, I’m not going to whack off my ear to show the world how ‘brilliant’ I am. In my case, I’m just going to let my art speak for itself.

That art, as all of you should know by know, is the art of writing. Specifically the writing of the literary classic, and autobiography, “Bad to the Bone, Memoir of a Rebel Doggie Blogger“.

Or how about this:

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

Ok, I plagiarized that last line from my typing teacher, but everything in my autobiography is original…and true!!

Anyway, other pups have different talents, and unfortunately for some it comes because of suffering. Such is the case of Tucker, a painter, who hails from Cleveland, Oh. has his tale.

Such is the case with Tucker, a German shepherd who ran loose, dragging a large bolt and chain, through rural Ohio for months until he was down to a bony 49 pounds. After being rescued, Tucker ended up in Lakewood with permanent foster parents Jim Lasher and Kara Vlach-Lasher.

Sweet and gentle, Tucker suffers from the canine equivalent of multiple sclerosis and cannot raise his leg to pee. As a result, he leaves elaborate and visually interesting trails on the sidewalk.

Seeing their beauty, Vlach-Lasher has captured them in photographs. These compositions will be featured in “PEE-ces of Art, by Tucker” a fund-raiser/art show on Sunday, March 7, at Bela Dubby in Lakewood.

With Vlach-Lasher acting as interpreter, Tucker recently answered some questions from PDQ’s John Campanelli.

How do you discover that relieving yourself physically could also mean relieving yourself artistically?

It was clearly a spontaneous discovery. I guess you could say it arose out of a “stream of consciousness.”

What types of other art did you dabble in before you discovered your talent for tinkle trails?

I briefly experimented with biscuit mosaics, but I could never finish a complete work before nibbling away at it.

“Tinkle trails” seems a bit unsophisticated; what’s the proper name that describes your artwork?

“PEE-ces of Art, by Tucker,” although I do like “tinkle trails.” Can I use that?

What is your inspiration?

Not to place blame on my birth parents, but I’ve had a rough life and was never able to express myself the way I wanted to. Now that I am older, a senior dog, in fact, I find that life is inspiration enough.

Your streams are elaborate; what guides you as you work?

Since my condition makes me unstable at times, I am guided by gravity. Some days I wobble more than others and then I get really creative. Just the other day I created a piece that looked like Dick York.

Who or what is your muse?

You know, there is this cute little poodle down the street . . . Other times, it’s just too much water.

How long do you consider the composition, the location and everything else before putting paint to canvas, so to speak?

My work is very spontaneous. When the mood strikes, I must compose. I didn’t consider the location as much when I first began in this medium. Once I created on the carpet! That’s when I learned from my mom the three things that matter most when generating a new work: location, location, location.

Are there hazards to doing your type of artwork?

Sometimes I get the feeling the other dogs in the neighborhood look at me funny and think I am showing off.

You knew this question was coming, of course: Do you sign your artwork?

Yes I do, but only other dogs are able to read it. Sorry, humans. But I think the folks in my neighborhood see the distinctiveness of each piece and identify it as an original Tucker. I’d be happy to put a paw print on one of the photographic prints at my art show for you.

Hmmm, maybe I should start selling my dumps as artwork. If Tucker can create a likeness of Dick York with pee, a poo clone of Elizabeth Montgomery shouldn’t be a problem. Unless I’ve had lots of cheese.


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