Saving Stephen Huneck’s Dog Mountain

Posted on August 26, 2012 by Erica Preo

I wanted to feature the artist Stephen Huneck’s work and the incredible Dog Chapel he created on his Dog Mountain in St. Johnsbury, Vermont for a while now. And so here we go, but unfortunately when I began doing research I was shocked to discover he passed away a few years ago. I think that perhaps I didn’t hear about it at the time because I lost someone very special on the exact same day: January 7, 2010. Stephen Huneck took his own life that day because he was distraught over having to lay off his staff. In an ironic twist, the staff was hired back following his death because of the renewed interest in his work. However, things have once again taken a downturn and the future of Dog Mountain is in serious jeopardy.

If you’re not familiar with the art of Stephen Huneck, the majority of his work consists of wonderful woodcuts and carvings, usually with dogs as subject matter. The pieces often depict true dog moments and observations with minimal text, but the dogs always retain a certain sense of nobility (as they should!). In addition, he became a NY Times bestselling children’s book author, with many of the books featuring his black Lab Sally as the main character. Following an illness and two-month coma, Mr. Huneck had the idea to create a special place where people could come and visit to honor their spiritual connection with their dogs, Dog Chapel. There is a sign outside the chapel that reads “All Creeds, All Breeds Welcome. No Dogmas Allowed.” People have come from all over the world to visit Dog Chapel, many of them posting notes to their departed dogs on the walls inside.

I think that Stephen Huneck’s art is absolutely wonderful, but I also think that maybe his most successful piece is the living, breathing one we can all share: Dog Chapel and Dog Mountain. Every dog that visits, every person who comes with a heavy heart and a special message to send, every afternoon spent laughing and playing and enjoying life is the essence of this living piece. I hope that Dog Mountain can stay open, providing so many with the comfort they need after suffering a loss or celebrating life with their friend. If you’re planning a trip to Vermont for the fall color this year, maybe make a stop in St. Johnsbury and visit Dog Chapel and the Stephen Huneck Gallery. Or if you’d like to begin holiday shopping early this year, visit their website‘s online shop because every little bit helps. You can find anything there from keychains to books and puzzles for mobile devices to signed original woodcuts and sculptures.

You can find more information on Stephen Huneck in these articles:
Puppy Love, by Rosalyn Graham
Stephen Huneck, Artist of Dogs, Dies at 61 by Margalit Fox

Most images copyright and courtesy Stephen Huneck Gallery; dog post image, Ann Dabney via Flickr

Thanks, I’m Good Now

Posted on August 24, 2012 by Erica Preo

Note: I’ve noticed that posts about travel, Italy, and dogs are pretty popular (yay!). Because a lot of my travel is to Italy for the business I’ve started that’s about dogs, I decided to do some posts with adventures as I follow along this entrepreneurial path. You can read a little more about Pantofola on the About page.

Being an entrepreneur is a tricky thing. Trying to do business with Italian manufacturers and suppliers when you’re a small little upstart, that’s a tricky thing, too. Oh, and not being fluent in Italian is also a tricky thing. Okay, so it’s all tricky. And when I say tricky, that’s a nice way of saying tough, but with an added measure of “I can do it!” oomph. So with a healthy dose of “I can do it!” in my back pocket, I keep going. Plus, by choosing Italy for manufacturing I’m hoping that if an emotional outburst should occur down the road, it’s more likely to be accepted by Italians than another not-so-expressive culture.

One evening after a very long day at a leather trade show I came close. I climbed onto a packed bus with all the other exhausted attendees heading back to the city center. I didn’t have a ticket, and the machine onboard wasn’t working so I decided I should do the moral thing and hop off. I know what you’re thinking: that was stupid. And it was, because I ended up in a zone without many pedestrians, traffic, other buses, street lights, and everything was closing for the night. Oh, I should have taken karate. The other problem is that in Italy you can’t just hail a cab. Well, you can try, but they won’t stop and you end up being the crazy lady flapping your arms around like an angry penguin.

Now I’m not saying Bologna is a bad city but bad things happen everywhere, it was dark and my imagination was in overdrive. I walked and walked, trying to figure out what options I had. Why am I here? Eventually I came to a corner store (also closing up for the night) and saw this loyal dog sitting there waiting patiently for someone inside. Immediately I felt relaxed, calmed, comforted, safe. I was good now. Somehow just by seeing this calm dog I was able to take a deep breath and think more clearly. But not only did the sight of this dog put an end to my panic, it also served as a potent reminder for why I started this business in the first place: the human + canine bond. Thankful for the reminder, I kept walking and one street over I found a bus stop with a map and hopped on the next bus.

Step Right This Way

Posted on August 23, 2012 by Erica Preo

Recently in Florence, Italy as I was rushing like a crazy person to a meeting, I came across this goofy dog on the sidewalk. I didn’t see anyone with her, so of course I had to stop because I thought she was lost (although I had no idea what I was going to do about it). After I stood there for a minute or so, she laid down and flopped open, what a ham! Then I realized (doh!) I was right in front of the fancy Lord Bau dog boutique. So I guess her job was to work the sidewalk, model stuff and look charming to lure people inside. Yes. I went in. But that got me thinking: if a women’s boutique did the same thing…sending out a sweet young thing to wiggle and work the sidewalk. Um, no. I guess then it would seem more like a strip club (or worse). Yep, dogs get away with everything.

England’s Cecil Aldin

Posted on August 19, 2012 by Erica Preo

I love to walk and wander around cities when I’m traveling because I often find wonderful things by chance. If I had read about a shop or something in a guidebook or magazine, I would probably spend most of the day pulling my hair out trying to find the place and be disappointed when I finally arrived. It might even be closed (doggone pet boutique in Milan). Or there would be no parking because I didn’t know it was market day (entire city of Siena). Even then, recovery is possible because other things can be discovered like an unexpected shop or a fantastic hidden-gem-of-a-locals-restaurant and hotel like Il Ceppo (see ya later, Siena). So, it’s taken a while but now I know: over-planning is overrated and chance encounters are best.

Example: seven years ago, I was wandering around in London when I came across one of those nifty London shops tucked away on one those nifty London streets whose specialty is antique prints. Not expensive prints, but old engravings and other cellophane-wrapped things in bins organized by subject matter. I bought three small prints that day featuring a cute dog because, well, I was smitten. They were only £6 each, but I could tell they were actually old and chopped out of a book. But what book?

It turns out, the book is called A Dog Day, written by Walter Emanuel and illustrated by Cecil Aldin. Okay. It’s basically a day in the life of this cute but mischievous dog that gets away with everything and comes out smelling like a rose (Ferris Bueller?). This book has been reprinted several times over the years, but I doubt that a reprint would make me happy for the same reason my sister refuses to watch colorized old movies, Mr. Ted Turner: it just won’t be the same. I wouldn’t mind reading the whole day’s account though, because what I’ve read so far is pretty good. From the backs of my prints here’s a little disjointed sample of the story, complete with time stamps:

So I end up being even more smitten than before. The thick paper stock feels special, the letterpress printing is wonderful, the metal typesetting’s imperfections make it perfect. I would say this find was a happy accident indeed, because while all of Great Britain has loved him forever and a day, I had never heard of Cecil Aldin or seen his wonderful illustrations. Mr. Aldin’s dogs Cracker (the Bull Terrier) and Micky (the Irish Wolfhound) are a famous pair that he featured in his popular book Sleeping Partners and as models for many other illustrations. Royal Doulton and other prominent English manufacturers have used his illustrations for a range of products over the years and these items are now hugely collectible. All of Cecil Aldin’s engraving plates were destroyed in World War II, so original prints are rare and have skyrocketed in value. I’m not a collector of anything (well, except dog hair) so I’m pretty happy with my three little prints, even if they were chopped out of a book. Unraveling the mystery of what I bought that day in London has been fun and I definitely plan to keep my eyes open for more things from one of England’s best loved illustrators, Mr. Cecil Charles Windsor Aldin.

If you’d like to read more about Cecil Aldin collectibles, this article seems very helpful.

Sara Turetta and Save the Dogs

Posted on August 14, 2012 by Erica Preo

It takes a very special type of person that can stay in the trenches, witnessing the constant bombardment of cruelty and injustice inflicted upon innocent creatures who want nothing more than to be safe and loved. A modern day St. Francis of Assisi, Sara Turetta is just this person and she’s my first “Shining Armor” post.

Sara is from Milan, Italy and in 2001 she went to Cernavoda, Romania when contacted by an Italian family living there for her help. The streets were full of dead bodies because local authorities were poisoning the strays by the hundreds, and an agreement was made to stop the killings if organized neutering and spaying programs were implemented. Sara had experience volunteering with groups at home and answered the call. Unfortunately, the existing association there was not interested in being managed by someone else, and so a new operation was started with Sara Turetta at the helm. With clearly established priorities of cleanliness, hygiene, efficiency, and strong leadership, Sara left her cushy ad agency position in Milan and hasn’t looked back. While I can imagine it has been a very sad and difficult road, there are thousands of victories for her with the happy dogs she has saved and the grateful families throughout Europe who have adopted them.

In Cernavoda today, Save the Dogs continues to offer a spay/neuter clinic for strays and through partner organizations transports them out and into new homes in other European countries. A free clinic is available to residents who cannot afford treatment for their pets as well. To combat the overpopulation within other parts of Romania, a mobile clinic travels the country to provide spay/neuter surgeries in these regions and they will soon reach 9000 in mobile sterilizations alone.

In addition to all of this work, Save the Dogs is playing a role in the welfare of donkeys and horses in Romania, animals that are also often cruelly treated and seen as disposable. Therapy programs have been started for children with special needs, giving these animals some joy, purpose and a brighter future. Also, educational programs have been implemented in these regions in Romania to teach school children the importance of proper animal stewardship and care. All of these projects are investments that will certainly pay off with future generations.

At the Italian Embassy in Bucharest last month, Ambassador Mario Cospito conferred the award of “Cavaliere dell’Ordine della Stella d’Italia” (Knight of the Order of the Star of Italy) to Sara Turetta. It’s the first time that someone involved in animal care and defense has received such an important award, which that in itself is a true honor. I’m sure Sara Turetta was pleased to be recognized, but I suspect just seeing photos of happy faces to which she’s given the gift of life warms her heart even more.

If you’d like more information, or to donate or adopt, you can visit their website Save the Dogs or contact them at their offices. In Italy: Via Pareto 36, 20156 Milano, Tel +39 0239445900 Fax +39 0230133300. In Romania: Str. Medgidiei, Bloc H4, Sc. C, Et. 3 – Ap. 52, 905200 Cernavoda (CT), Tel/Fax +40 241235081, or by email info@savethedogs.eu.

Save the Dogs partners include: Brigitte Bardot Foundation, DogRescue Sweden, Friends of Homeless Dogs, Hundhjalpen, Protezione Animali di Bellinzona and The Donkey Sanctuary.

Two Westies in Perugia

Posted on August 7, 2012 by Erica Preo

Well, just when you thought you’d seen everything…

Two gorgeous (and rather large) Westies in Perugia, Italy, by the incredibly talented Mr. Mark Ulriksen. Don’t you just love the scale of these two guys, and that the people are just going about their business? I love it.

You can read my previous post about Mr. Ulriksen here or visit his site here.

On the Napa River

Posted on August 6, 2012 by Erica Preo

Oh Napa Valley, now that you’re all French Laundry‘d and Press‘d up, do you think you can disguise who you really are? I want people to know that all it takes is a leisurely cruise on the Napa River to rediscover you: that long lost place that feels so very far from the speeding BMWs of Highway 29 and the Silverado Trail. Because I remember how you used to be, back when Halloween pumpkin carving contests, scarecrows and the fall harvest were the big draws. Now don’t get upset, I know you’ve been all about excellent wine for a long time. It’s just that, well, you’ve become a little too big for your britches, and it’s nice to see your folksy side now and then.

All kidding aside, the Napa River cruise is a great thing to do if you have time on your next trip to the Napa Valley. Like the Chicago Architecture Foundation’s River Cruise, this little journey allows you to see and learn about things you’d otherwise miss because you’re distracted by stoplights, wine tastings, looking for parking, overwhelmed by organic produce, and so on. For example, it’s not widely known that the tanning process to make Napa leather was invented right there on the banks of the Napa River by a German immigrant named Emmanuel Manasse in 1876. These kinds of facts normally are only revealed to you by a grandparent or someone else of yesteryear (way, way yesteryear). But on this boat, you can bring a bottle of wine and some excellent cheese and float along, taking it all in. If you’d like more information on Napa history and Napa leather, this article will tell you more.

Of course, I found it appealing that so many dogs were out and about on the Napa River that day, moving fast or moving slow. It seemed like they had the right idea, and maybe prefer old Napa to the new?

Japan’s Beloved Hachikō

Posted on July 31, 2012 by Erica Preo

I suppose that by now most people are well acquainted with the story of Japan’s famous Akita Hachikō, but how can a blog titled Dogs Make Everything Better not include it? It must! First of all, it’s a true story. Second, it has to be the number one example of a dog’s fierce loyalty to his friend and the powerful bond that can exist between dog and man. And third, Hachikō is especially the winner now that the tale of Edinburgh’s poor little Greyfriar’s Bobby has been pretty much debunked. Boy, what a dagger that was!

For those of you that don’t know about Hachikō, here’s the story. By the way, there is a movie that was released in 2010 directed by Lasse Hallström called Hachi starring Richard Gere and Joan Allen, but it’s loosely based on the true story. The 1987 Japanese film Hachi-kō is the real deal and I’m hoping to see it soon. Um, with subtitles.

The story begins in Tokyo in 1924. A professor at Tokyo University by the name of Hidesaburō Ueno acquired Hachikō to be his dog, a golden brown Akita. Each day the pair would walk to Shibuya Station together, where Professor Ueno would take the train to work. When he would arrive back at the station at the end of the day, Hachikō would always be there at the precise time to meet him and together they would walk home. This continued until one day in May 1925 when Professor Ueno suffered a cerebral hemorrhage at work and died. For the next nine years the ever loyal Hachikō continued to arrive at the station each afternoon at the same time, hopeful that Professor Ueno would once again step off the train.

Fellow commuters noticed Hachikō waiting and remembered seeing Professor Ueno with the dog each day. Eventually they started bringing him food and treats. Newspaper articles were published, and before long Hachikō became a national symbol of family loyalty for the Japanese people. Children were taught to honor and respect Hachikō’s remarkable vigil and to recognize it as an example for them to follow. Before long, the nation’s interest and awareness in the honorable Akita breed also grew.

In the spring of 1934, a bronze statue was erected outside the Shibuya Station and Hachikō himself was present for its unveiling. The spot where Hachikō waited in the train station is permanently marked with bronze paw prints and text in Japanese detailing his lifelong loyalty. During World War II the statue was sacrificed and melted for the war effort, but a replacement was made and erected in 1948. Each year on April 8, a solemn ceremony takes place at Shibuya Station to honor Hachikō, attracting hundreds of dog owners to pay their respects. And last month, rare photos from Hachikō’s life were shown at the Shibuya Folk and Literary Shirane Memorial Museum in Shibuya Ward, the show wrapping up on July 22.

Once again, it’s a dog at the helm showing us how we should behave and honor the special people in our lives. So thanks for stepping up, Hachikō. Sure wish you could come back, and this time maybe run for President?

Thanks to Wikipedia, for some facts.

Erica Preo is CEO & Creative Director of Pantofola, pure luxury Italian goods for dogs.

Photographer and Author Priscilla Rattazzi

Posted on July 26, 2012 by Erica Preo

I subscribe to too many magazines and I can’t stop. The print kind. It takes me a while to flip through them (especially those fall Vogue phone books) but sometimes I’ll commit to going through a stack and just flip away, tearing out articles or images and putting them into stacks like an old-school Pinterest. But it’s not Pinterest, so that means I usually have a stack of articles and images to go through after I finish my flipping. But I work quickly, I’m like that animal that’s attracted to shiny things and only shiny things. With eyes zig-zagging and darting plus some really heavy editing, I’m usually in pretty good shape and the stacks end up being pretty minimal. Things come to a screeching halt, however, when I see a dog. Or anything Italian. Or something really beautiful. When it’s all three, well forget it. At that point I’ve found the shiniest thing of all and it’s time out.

This happened to me a while back as I raced through the December 2006 issue of Town & Country when I came across an article about celebrated photographer and author Priscilla Rattazzi. For many years she worked as a fashion photographer in New York (in those Studio 54 days), later focusing on photography for her books: Georgica Pond, Luna & Lola, Children, and Best Friends. Such a beautiful collection of images, and what a life! Her uncle was head of Fiat and icon-in-general Gianni Agnelli, and everyone knows the Agnellis are pretty much the Kennedys of Italy. So just drinking in the private moments she’s captured over the years is really a wonderful treat. Lucky for me, she loves dogs and her 1989 book Best Friends is page after page of them with their mover-and-shaker owners. In the above photo, her uncle Gianni Agnelli is shown in his circa 1980 pin-striped slacks and tie (after a long day at the office?) sharing one of those private moments with his Siberian Husky called Dyed Eyes. I don’t know about you, but for me, seeing a captain of industry like Gianni Agnelli enjoying a moment like this with his dog is pretty darn endearing. And Mr. Agnelli also wrote the introduction for the book.

One of my other favorites from Best Friends is the photo below featuring Nini Guatti with his dog Andiamo. Such a great image, captured at the precise moment. I think I’m especially drawn to it because my dad often dressed this way and I really miss him, and what’s better than a dog called Andiamo (let’s go)?!

Priscilla Rattazzi has done a wonderful job of chronicling, in both pictures and words, the relationship between her family’s Golden Retriever and their miniature Dachshund in her 2010 book Luna & Lola. The images are warm in composition and reproduction, the book’s cover is a lovely matte stock complete with slipcover so it feels especially “gifty”. It’s a gorgeous book, certainly, but also an incredibly moving portrait of two dogs, the family that loved them and the time they shared together. Sadly, Luna passed away just before the book was completed, and the book includes a truly touching eulogy written by Ms. Rattazzi’s husband Chris Whittle at the end. Luna enjoyed her life with Lola and the rest of her family, and that really comes across on every page. As with all of Priscilla Rattazzi’s work, I really appreciate having the experience of taking a look. And it gets better: a portion of the proceeds from Luna & Lola will be donated to the Animal Rescue Fund of the Hamptons in Wainscott, New York.

For details on the book Luna & Lola, click here.
For more information on Priscilla Rattazzi, including many press articles and gallery information, click here.
To watch a video of a recent talk by Priscilla Rattazzi at the George Eastman House in Rochester, New York click here.
Gianni Agnelli with Dyed Eyes and Nini Guatti with Andiamo courtesy and copyright Priscilla Rattazzi.

Erica Preo is CEO & Creative Director of Pantofola, pure luxury Italian goods for dogs.

Saturday at Carosello

Posted on July 24, 2012 by Erica Preo

So what’s the number one thing you shouldn’t forget to pack when you travel? A charger for your phone. Guess what I forgot?

And what that meant was I had to jump into my little car and find the Apple Store on the outskirts of Milan (which happens to be closer to the town of Gorgonzola, so it’s a wonder I didn’t just keep driving there instead) as soon as possible. But there I was at a shopping mall—quelle horreur!—on a rainy Saturday morning with residual jet lag and a flat phone on my second day in Italy. The good thing about that: Italy follows the universal rule of shopping malls which dictates that all patrons walk around like zombies, so I didn’t stand out one bit. Once I’d made my purchase and breathed a huge sigh of relief (thank you, proliferation of Apple), I was free to explore Carosello in the suburbs with the rest of the regular folks hiding out from the rain.

Now before you start to feel too sorry for me, remember I’m still in Italy so even in an indoor shopping mall, things are generally better. Like the food. And the people watching. Or, dog watching as it were. As I sat there enjoying my lunch, I happened to see this guy with his beautiful golden retriever in a shopping cart, semi-tending to his daughter in the fire department jeep thing. I can tell you that the dog received much more attention from passersby than the child, which was entertaining to watch. In any case, I sat there sipping my cappuccino taking it all in and thinking: somewhere in this giant mall there’s a lucky lady getting to shop freely while her husband is not only not rushing her but he’s also looking after the kid and the dog.

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