Delilah has a Twin and Nell is on Strike

We spent the day at the Hanover Fall Fair on Sunday. The usual fall agricultural fair stuff – 4H kids with their dairy cattle, prize winning chickens, heavy horse pulls, miniature horses and the steer competition.

It was during the steer competition that we met our new favorite cow steer –  a rather aggravated looking black Angus with the most recalcitrant, stubborn expression on his face. While the other cattle were lining up nicely, feet perfectly placed and still as statues, this cow non coew steer was pissed off about the whole ordeal. He stomped from side to side, refused to put his feet where they belonged, and was muttering under his breath that it was ‘all pointless’.

The thing is, he just looked exactly like Delilah — well, OK, not exactly. I mean, Delilah is a twenty two pound French Bulldog, not a two ton steer, but it’s all in the eyes. He had has her same black, deep, shoe button eyes, and her precise expression of mutinous, stubborn will power. If they both had a saying tattooed on their sides, it would be “Don’t wanna“.

Don't Wanna Be a Show Dog

I picture Delilah behaving in the exact same way if we were ever stupid enough to try to stick her in the show ring. Plus, we’re not allowed to use those hook thingies to poke our dogs into place — although with some dogs, we should be (she said ominously, shooting a dirty look at the small black dog sleeping on her feet).

Penelope, who resembles nothing more than a brindle basketball on four legs these days, is on a mid pregnancy hunger strike. She is not making this whole impending motherhood thing easy, that’s for sure. Currently, she will only eat her food if I:

a) poach and shred a chicken breast onto her raw food
b) artfully arrange the chicken so that it wraps around the raw food, camouflaging it
c) I then poke the little balls of chicken camo raw food into her waiting mouth, like a stupid floor sitting mommy bird feeding her evil little offspring

The other dogs, of course, gape at this entire procedure with their mouths hanging open. Sailor has started to let out shrieks of outrage, which, if translated into person-speak, would no doubt sound like “Are you freakin’ kidding me? You’re hand feeding her? Me, I got a hunk of raw chicken to eat, and I liked it. Tell princess I’m going to come and smack some sense into her thick little skull.”

Penelope just rolls her eyes, yawns, and tells me to get my pedicure kit and do her toe nails in a prettier shade of pink. It’s rough being the center of the universe.

Here’s Elliott, after I told him that his paramour was refusing to eat poached chicken breast –

Immediately after wards, he rolled off the couch in shock, bonking his head on the floor. Luckily, he’s a boy Frenchie, which means his head is full of rocks, so the only damage was a dent in my floor.

Of course, Paris, who is Penelope’s mortal enemy, kindly offered to finish off any food Penelope didn’t want, and even some she did. She’s always helpful like that.

(Almost) All the ladies love McLovin

Squeamish readers take note: This post contains descriptive terms you might not enjoy reading. Feel free to skip by looking at this cute video of a kitten.

Tessa the French Bulldog is done with lovin'

McLovin is slowly losing his mind, and I can’t say I blame him. Poor Elliott – it’s not easy being the only mature boy in a house full of French Bulldog ladies in the mood for love.

The progesterone fest, however, is slowly winding down. Only Paris still remains committed to her one true love (or at least her one true ‘you’ll do for now’), with Penelope and Tula having come to the conclusion that he isn’t, in fact, all that and a bag of chips.

It was a different story last week however, when Penelope spent most of her time either pining for her beloved, or screeching at the top of her lungs whenever she caught sight of him. Elliott was busily peeing every place he caught scent of her, which apparently included the leather recliner and my suede Converse running shoes.

Tula’s infatuation wore off mighty quick. Within 24 hours, she went from “Ooooh baby” to “Ewwww, icky”, a sea change she expressed with her fine white teeth and an impressive show of snarling. Elliott, being a typical, easy going male French Bulldog, shrugged off her change of heart with some befuddled confusion and a great deal of sangfroid.

Penelope, on the other hand, objected mightily to Ms. Tula dissing her beloved, and a quick and fierce battle over whether or not Elliott was, indeed, the most handsome Frenchie alive was only broken up when I intervened with a bucket of water and a hose. Rumors that the other dogs were hanging around in the background chanting “Jerry, Jerry” and that Sailor, Penelope’s mom, stepped in and swung a chair at Tula’s head are unsubstantiated.

The fight was declared a draw, with Tula walking away muttering “I still say he stinks“, while Nell, gazing at Elliott with moony love struck eyes, hummed “one day, my frog prince will come”.

Less than a week later, and oh how things have changed. Nell and Tula are now united in their disdain for Elliott’s manly ways, and have expressed that opinion with several “Get the hell away from me or I’ll neuter you with my teeth” conversations. Elliott has decided that he’ll just stick with Paris for now.

What a surprise he’s in for when Paris falls out of love with him. That girl will eat him alive if he comes sniffing around too insistently…

Tessa, being old and experienced in the ways of amour, has said that love and romance are dearly over rated, and pale in comparison to a nice nap in a sunny spot in the garden.

More on Les Moujiks, Yves Saint Laurent's Very Fashionable French Bulldogs

Yves Saint Laurent French Bulldog Moujik Andy Warhol PosterAs mentioned in my last blog, Yves Saint Laurent’s Moujik (each Moujik, that is) was a tres fashionable Bouldogue Francais.

Moujik II was the subject of the final portrait painted by Andy Warhol – the only dog ever immortalized by the famous pop artist.

Each year, Saint Laurent issued a of small Season’s Greetings posters. The posters, entitled “Love” and then the year of issue, were intended as gifts for close friends.

In 1991, Saint Laurent’s “Love” poster featured the Warhol painted portraits of Moujik.

Copies of the poster can be found from time to time on eBay, and at live auctions.

With the recent death of Yves Saint Laurent, they can only be imagined to raise in value significantly…

Here’s the auction copy for the poster pictured, which sold for $1800 on eBay in May of this year:



24×15 inches, 61×38 cm.

For over twenty years Yves Saint Laurent designed small season’s greeting posters entitled “Love.” Generally they were pop art images with a heart appearing as the central motif (see Swann Modernist Poster Auction #1897, lot 114). His 1991 image is very special, as it represents one of Saint Laurent’s true loves, his dog Moujik. Using four images of his pet painted by Andy Warhol, Saint Laurent arranges them against a bright yellow background. The charming, handwritten text reads, “He is Moujik, my dog, painted by Andy Warhol, I am Yves Saint Laurent.”

Yves Saint Laurent French Bulldog Moujik T ShirtIf a Moujik poster is out of your price range, you might be able to find one of the limited edition “Moujik” t shirts that Saint Laurent designed for French Children’s charity D.E.M.

Saint Laurent joined designers Sonia Rykiel, Lolita Lempicka, Barbara Bui, Emanuel Ungaro, Christian Lacroix and others in designing fashionable, 19,90 € t shirts, which were sold at a special sale that ran from June 18th to 19th in 2007.

Now that I think about it, the t shirts just might be as scarce as the posters, and possibly more expensive!

A google search, eBay search and just about every other search I know of failed to turn up a single one, either for sale now or in the past. Apparently those who own them, plan to keep them – and who can blame them?

Sad News for Fashionistas and French Bulldog Lovers

Yves Saint Laurent and French Bulldog Moujik

Yves Saint Laurent, long time French Bulldog owner and ‘tortured genius’ of Fashion, has died at age 71.

While the rest of the world knows him mainly for his fashion, those of us with Frenchies likely know him best for his eccentric approach to dog ownership – over the years, he owned a never ending string of French Bulldogs, each Brindle pied, each with the same name.

Upon the death of each dog, he’d promptly acquire another, and name it Moujik – the same name held by each of its predecessors.

A few years ago, Laurent immortalized the current incarnation of Moujik with a t shirt featuring his image, and Moujik II was the subject of the very last work done by Andy Warhol.

From Conde Nast Portfolio

Yves Saint Laurent, dead at 71

Farah Farouque pulls together the colourful threads in the life of a fashion legend.

Yves Saint Laurent and French Bulldog MoujikI ran into Yves Saint Laurent on a Wednesday afternoon a couple of months ago at the Hotel George V having tea with a handsome young man. It was a rare sighting. Saint Laurent was wheelchair-bound by then and had become quite reclusive. He was terribly palsied—he could barely bring the petit fours to his mouth—but seemed in fine form nonetheless.

He was elegantly dressed in a charcoal-gray tailored suit with a colorful silk square pouring out of his upper pocket. He had a slight tan, most likely from his majestic riad in Marrakech. And as my 7-year-old daughter played with his French bulldog Moujik—the sixth or seventh Moujik by now—he smiled a crooked smile and chatted sweetly with her. I didn’t think it would be the last time I’d see him.

But it was. Yesterday, Yves Saint Laurent, the man who changed the way women dressed, died in his home on the rue de Babylone in Paris. He was 71. There were no official reports of what he died from, but for me, it was obvious: 50 years of fame.

Born to a French lawyer and his stylist wife in Oran, Algeria, in 1932, Saint Laurent had dreamed of becoming a fashion designer since childhood.

At the age of 17, he moved to Paris and studied at the Chambre Syndicale de la Couture fashion school. In 1954, he shared the first prize of the prestigious International Wool Secretariat award; his co-winner was Karl Lagerfeld.

Yves Saint Laurent and French Bulldog Moujik Saint Laurent was then hired to work as an assistant to another titan of fashion, Christian Dior, and his profound talent was quickly recognized. When Dior dropped dead of a heart attack in 1957 at the age of 52, Saint Laurent was named successor. He was a mere 21 years old. His first collection the following year was such a smashing success that American fashion journalist Marylou Luther wrote, “The king is dead. Long live the king!”

But Saint Laurent’s shyness, reticence, and fragility was greater, evidenced by the famed photo of him leaning out the window of Dior after a show as his fans cheered in the street. “He was already grave, distant, full of poetry, and mystery,” Pierre Bergé, his longtime business partner and companion, told me.

Two years later, the French government informed Saint Laurent that he had to fulfill his military-service duties. The night before he left, he confessed to his friends who had gathered at a villa in the South of France for a farewell weekend that he couldn’t face it. He was the world’s most famous fashion designer and a homosexual: He would never survive in the military, he feared. After 19 days of boot camp, Saint Laurent suffered a nervous breakdown and was sent to the mental ward at the Val-de-Grâce military hospital in Paris.

For six weeks, Saint Laurent was subjected to drug and shock therapy, and he dropped to 80 pounds. Finally, Bergé managed to get him released.

Read the rest here 

Delilah goes missing, Grandma looks smug… and fighting the good fight against BSL

OK,  before you look at the silly picture, everyone needs to read these blog posts –

  1. Luisa’s post on “How to create a dog that will bite somebody” is pure genius, and frighteningly accurate. Best part (worst part?) – Her photos of a ‘killer pit bull’, incarcerated in Texas for killing a child. It is to weep, honestly it is.
  2. If you’re not already despairing enough, go and read this post, on the caveat blog, about why the fight against breed specific legislation is everyone’s fight – from spaniel owners to Golden owners to cat owners. Do something about it, today – before it’s too late.Consider this – French Bulldogs? Those cute little dogs that look so silly here on my site, and in your lap? They’re on the banned list in a lot of cities already, and the ‘about to be banned list’ in even more, including the province of Ontario. Still think this isn’t your fight?

OK, here’s the picture. Click for full(er) sized.

French Bulldog Gargoyle en Paree…