When I began writing this blog, I had no idea how personal some of what I’d write might be. This is an issue that bloggers face. I assumed that I would write relatively spontaneously about various things that came to mind about GertrudeandAlice and my relationship with them over a period of almost 25 years- personal insights, but not really personal.
About a week ago, however, we had to put our nine year old English Springer Spaniel Ollie to sleep after a very sudden and unexpected illness. So this post will be quite personal.
Dogs are family and the sadness and loss felt when they are gone and the tears shed for them are family tears.
The French poodles, Basket I and II and the two chihuahuas, Byron and Pépé were an integral part of GertrudeandAlice’s family. The Springer Spaniel, Oliver, Ollie for short, was an integral part of ours.
Ollie, summer 2009
In Bruce Kellner’s amazing, encyclopedic book A GERTRUDE STEIN COMPANION (Greenwood Press, 1988), he includes a chapter titled “Friends and Enemies: A Biographical Dictionary,” in which the lives of key players in GertrudeandAlice’s circle are summarized. Pages 151 and 152 are devoted to Baskets I & II and pages 235-236 describe Pépé and Byron.
Basket I and Pépé, 1937
Dogs were so important in GertrudeandAlice’s life, that Stein included the role of “pretty good vet for dogs” on the final page of THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ALICE B. TOKLAS among the litany of Alice’s responsibilities.
The two Standard Poodles, Basket I and Basket II, attained celebrity status while the chihuahuas, Byron and Pépé, though present in many photographs and Pépé’s appearance as a character in a ballet based on one of Stein’s plays, never really acquired the same fame. The poodles posed in photographs by Carl Van Vechten, Horst, Cecil Beaton and LIFE magazine photographers, while the chihuahuas often seemed to perch in their photos whether on Roman ruins, lawn chairs, and ottomans.
Basket II with Pépé on the ottoman, Paris 1938
Basket I had been acquired at a Parisian dog show and had been named by Alice who thought he was so fashionable that one day he would carry a basket of flowers in his mouth – a skill he and his successor never mastered. The dogs’ pedigree did, however, come in useful during World War II when Basket II’s papers permitted additional rations.
And then there’s Ollie. When he would greet you, he would grin exposing his teeth not in anger but in glee. His stoic, sphinx-like poses also betrayed a puppyness that he never lost which was endearing to anyone who met him. When he really wanted to communicate to ask for a piece of cheese or to let you know that he was very happy about something, he’d “talk” and we would create “sentences” out of what he was saying including “I love you!”
"Ollie-Oliver," drawing by Aashna Taneja, 2002
When Basket II the last of GertrudeandAlice’s dogs died in 1952, six years after Gertrude’s death, Alice wrote to Carl Van Vechten:
“…for some time I have realized how much I depended upon him and so it is the beginning of living for the rest of my days without anyone who is dependent upon me for anything.”
There is still sadness and there are occasional tears for Ollie, especially when he is missed as part of various daily routines. But even more, there continues to be celebration and thanks for the nine years of love and joy that he gave us.
As Gertrude wrote “I am I because my little dog knows me even if the little dog is a big one.”
Soon we hope to have a ” little dog,” one of Ollie’s great-nephews, who will become “a big one.” He will help us find our new identities as he becomes part of the family, just as his great-uncle did so extraordinarily well.
This new family member will be as dependent on us as we will be on him.
© Hans Gallas 2009
§ 3 Responses to Two Baskets, Byron, Pépé, and Ollie"
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Hans, what a lovely piece you’ve written, sharing both the pleasure of your memories of your Dog Companion and your sadness now–a piece on Stein and Toklas only made deeper by its personal nature. Yes, families are made of love–that is, we may make our family from friends, dogs, books, trees, cars or dishes, anything we love. I have known people (including myself) to mourn the loss of any of those, or of something or someone even more unexpected. But love it was, and family it was. Here are my deepest condolences for your loss, and thanks again for your entry here.
Dear Hans – I have just read your post; if I had read it yesterday, I would have hugged you longer. Here is a piece I wrote lately:
For Ollie:
My Dog’s Breath
I was afraid it would smell of dog food,
cat food, pet smart express.
I was afraid he would mature and
that wet doggy smell would be
the informing characteristic of his presence.
I was afraid he would have ugly dog feet,
where the thick dark nails protrude
at the end of his toes. But no,
he still smells of summer grass, from his
warm vulnerable head and clean deer ears,
to his corn muffin feet, which, rolling
on his back, he stretches skyward, all four
at once in a bouquet of legs.
His ruff of soft-coarse hair curls down round
about his neck or becomes a faux Mohawk
along the line of his spine. I press my
nose into his beating heart side, squeeze his small fat flank,
a life-saving meal in a disaster, and kiss the sweet spot
between his eye and nose. When did he stop
being dog and become love?
d.stein
October 2009
Wow! Denny thanks for this incredible tribute. What would we do without the arts to help express our feelings?
Hans