Deerhound

A passionate little blog started by a deerhound dog in Scotland called Rogue ‘Brylach’ MacAllister then Passed to Rascal ‘Logan’ Dorrator Heath and now picked up by Rebel Borrodhail 'Muirfinn' and Rocket Borrodhail 'Frode'.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Marilyn and Scottish Deerhounds

Deerhound lovers will know, that as well as owning we hounds - collecting ‘stuff’ such as our photographs, paintings, sculptures and various other bits n bobs is where it’s at. And as a deerhound I can boast - ‘you can never have enough deerhounds’.

That’s why today I thought I’d share these little sculptures with the clan - produced by Marilyn Terry of whom you can find out information about here on her webpage. You can also find her works of art for sale.

Unfortunately as a dog, I don’t understand how this money lark or mail order works, so I will be unable to order any of them - but I’m sure some of the hoond lovers out there may.

Visit Marilyn for information and enjoy the images below.


Here’s what she has to say about her piece ‘The Couch Potato’

It is an amazing phenomenon, the transformation between the excitement of seeing the noble Scottish Deerhound with all his muscles taut, his eyes keen and alert, head up, neck and loins arched, ready to give chase to the beautiful Highland Red Deer, a formidable stag more than twice his size and with deadly antlers, a task of courage for which the Deerhound was bred through the mists of time; and the other half of his nature, that of the couch potato who can sleep dead to the world for hours on end. Maybe that trait too, was inadvertently bred in, the result of Deerhounds over the centuries trying to find a warm sleeping spot on a fur rug in front of a roaring fire in those draughty, cold Scottish castles.

The idea for this piece came when I was staying with a Deerhound acquaintance where the focal point of the canine community in her house was an armchair of a wonderful shape, hotly vied for by a horde of little dogs and several Deerhounds. I couldn’t resist getting this idea into wax, translating the armchair I had seen into an old, lumpy, worn leather but desperately comfortable one, adding the carved roaring stag relief on the back for a touch of whimsy, despite the nagging thought that bronzes had to be of a serious subject.






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