Friday, January 22, 2010


Oil on canvas, 24x36, $250

Puffy doesn't hold anything back.

When she's mad, she's mad, and she hauls off and pops whatever dog or cat happens to be nearby. 

When she likes you - which she does in rollicking, exuberant stretches, which last for weeks or months and then end, abruptly - she climbs on you, purring and rubbing and touching you with her paw. Then she forgets that you exist.

Puffy was born in the closet of the bathroom of our house in Maine. Her mother, Samantha, is a semi-wild adoptee who escaped before we could get her spayed. Puffy's dad is a scruffy Maine tomcat who lived for years on the streets and in the barns of Bolster's Mills.

Frank, our late chow, thought Puffy was about the most wonderful thing ever, and it was mutual. At first, we were convinced that Frank was going to eat Puffy, but instead, he nurtured her, snuggled with her, wagged his little chow tail with vigor and in the end, pretty much raised her.

So this is Puffy, looking mad about something.


Robin Weiss said...

Puffy looks a little stuffy...but the background dazzles!

Hope your having a great start to the new year Carrie!

carrie jacobson said...

Hi, Robin - Thanks for the note... I agree, Puffy needs a little more work, now that I've looked at her for a few days. I like the background, too!

I'm painting happily and productively - looks like you're off to a great start this year -

Art with Liz said...

Mad or not Puffy looks great Carrie!