August 11, 2017

White Dog heard Pearl's sharp bark and then gentle whimpering; she left my side to check out what was happening.

She did not return right away but Pearl quieted down so I called to Steve who I thought was in the kitchen. "Any idea what was upsetting Pearl?"

He came to the door of the office, with a cloth and the window cleaner in his hand. "Yep. She is mad at me," he replied. "I have destroyed the snooter art that covered the Watching Window to the point that you could not even see out of it any more."
"Did you explain that now she has a clean 'slate' upon which to make new art?" He shook his head. "She says now what was there is gone forever...lost."

"White Dog is consoling her now by explaining the idea of organic art and its ephemeral nature and how THAT kind of art is truly very special because it is immediate and fleeting and becomes part of the viewer's soul and memories."

I called Pearl into the office. "Here you go, Maestra," I said as I handed her a cookie. "For your incredible efforts."

And suddenly all was fine.

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