Every Morning & Every Evening

September 29, 2023

This painting was made while Pabu was in his prime.  Eric Ochoa painted it in Todo Santos, Baja California from photos of Pabu.   I knew when I commissioned it I'd have this painting as the first thing I'd see in the morning and again before I went to sleep long after Pabu died.

Pabu has been gone now over 6 years and 5 months.  He lived from May 1999 to April 2017, the morning after Easter. Almost made it to his 18th birthday. 

His forebears were bred by Tibetans to guard homes and monasteries plus be close companions to their favorite people as bed warmers.  Never to attack, just to warn the Tibetan mastiff dogs and the armed men.  Once Pabu woke me up in the middle of the night barking a big dog bark which I only heard that one time.  His mane around his shoulders was standing up and at first I thought I had a lion at the foot of my bed,  I only saw his mane stand up like that once.  Someone was trying to pry off a screen on a window to get inside our house.  He was never fully comfortable unless all his favorite people were home, he'd walked an interior perimeter check, and could sleep where he could see a door leaving the room he was in.  He was an excellent watch dog.

Tibetans say dogs which looks like Pabu, a small "lion" dog, lead humans who die to their next life along a path they light with a lantern held on their flowing tails.  Long hairy feathers on their legs.  A mane across their shoulders.  It's said if a monk goes bad he might be reborn as this kind of dog to gain some wisdom for his next life.  Two small lion dogs appear on the Tibetan flag.

I liked to think of Pabu as a newly dead monk being told he needed to keep his nose out of books.  He'd become a dog for one lifetime but wouldn't be a bad next life. He'd get to take care of a nice little old lady living alone in Atherton, California who would cook him breakfast from scratch while a puppy. Yum!  Poached salmon and baby rice!  Then a grand daughter who wasn't too bad would take care of him.  Pabu would NEVER look at any book. If I opened one in his presence, even if he'd been cozy tucked napping next to me on a couch he'd jump to the floor and walk away.  If I put a open book directly under his nose he'd instantly turn away. 

Many Buddhist sects recognize mythical beasts with magical powers.  The Chinese emperors revered as most powerful the dragon which they used as their personsal symbol. The empresses used the phoenix as their symbol. The third most powerful mythical animals fir them was the quilin.  The Chinese quilin looked like a cross between the Tibetan lion dog and a fat deer. In Japan, their version is more like a skinny deer with long legs, a kirin, as seen on the Kirin soy sauce labels.  Harry Potter author J.K. Rowling created a tiny deer-like "chillin" for a magical beast seen in the third movie of her Newt Scamander series.

The Chinese and Tibetan quilins and Japanese kirins are said to be able to walk on grass without bending one blade.  Walk on water. The animal will not live in a home unless all there are just and righteous.  It can breathe fire.  It protects the human family with which it lives,.

Pabu was a typical Tibetan Spaniel.  Fiercely independent.  He took to strangers only very slowly, very warily.  Only once did I ever see him bring a toy to a stranger who came to my home for a kind young woman who genuinely loved dogs.  He was a judgmental soul who kept his physical and emotional distance until he decided whether or not he wanted to get close to any human or other creature.  Once he bonded with a person as he did with me after living together for about a month, he would know by ESP exactly when I was on my way home. He'd pad to the front door at home and wait for me. He did not stop doing that until he lost most of his hearing and I told him he did not need to meet me at the front door anymore because I knew that he knew that I knew...

A few hours before he died I heard his barking in my dreams demanding to come home from a vet's clinic where he was being treated for a sudden lung problem.  He wanted an end to any more medical treatments.  I immediately called the vet and described the sudden barking I'd heard.  It was exactly what he'd been doing moments beforehand when I was asleep.

I felt rather certain within a few days of his death in my arms that he'd moved on to another life.  His soul is still around somewhere doing good.  The painting is just an echo of the "Pabu of Lindenwood"  I knew.