OSCAR ATE MY MUFFIN

An Unprecedented Best Friend

Oscar is a dream come true in so many ways, but "friendly to all" is not a mantle that has ever fit him well. He is, let's just say, supremely choosy about who he'll let into his bubble (and if you make it in, you best not push your luck). I don't fault him for this personality trait one bit, but it did take years to get used to and train around, and to this day, if there's another dog in the vicinity, I've got one eye squarely on him - watching for any hint of foreboding body language.

Then along came Maisey...

Maisey is to Oscar what a gecko might be to a komodo dragon - squirrelly to his stately, submissive to his assertive, and "on" to his more frequent than not "off". Yet literally the day these two met (as newfound studio mates about a year ago) Oscar decided this freckly, 35lb little princess would get the mother of all hall-passes in his book. Among her more high-value allowances: she can drink from his water bowl, steal treats from a hand outstretched to his patient nose, clamber into my lap while he's getting a head scratch, and even snuggle onto his bed - with him still on it! (this, btw, is possibly the most heart-warming thing I've ever seen him tolerate...)


Maybe the old man has become too lazy to waste energy on correcting her youthful exuberance, but I prefer to think that Maisey's charms are just a cut above all those who've come before. For reasons my pale human senses will never understand, the chemistry between these two simply neutralizes all ills.

And Just Like That...

The first warm days of spring never fail to inspire a craving for ice cream cones (Oscar and I are pretty big fans). Coincidentally, those teasingly mild temperatures also tend to coincide with a rather important event on the spring calendar - an event that fully supports the procurement of aforementioned ice cream, going so far even to demand sprinkles... that's right, it's BIRTHDAY-time, friends, and this year, for one big red dog, it was something special...

This year, on the cloudy 27th of March, 2015, Oscar-dog turned one year older. And this year, the Beast turned TEN. 120 months have passed, roughly 3,650 rotations on the earthly axis, and countless hours of beloved company have been enjoyed since this stubborn, steady, remarkably clever (and shockingly handsome) canine rocked into the world. And you know what? He just. keeps. getting. better...


He may nap a bit more loudly, and romp a little less; he may require more frequent fine-tuning, and his drool is still a mess... But his patience has only grown longer, his old-dog-wisdom is real, and when it comes to loyalty and focus - let's just say... there's a reason why my dad recently remarked, "You know Oscar is really like a weathervane - whenever I need to know where you are, I just look at which direction he's pointing!". If that's not devotion, folks, I don't know what is.

10 years young, this incredible Beast is wearing his age like the fine gentleman he's always been, and I count myself blessed beyond compare to have him always by my side.

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy - here's to many more.

Sketching the Sleeping Beast

Sleeping Positions...

Like any good Ridgeback, Oscar is a sneak and a clown and a stubborn mule when he wants to be, but due to many years of training, he also has excellent manners. One of his most endearing qualities is his refusal to climb aboard furniture until he has been invited to do so by a human (he can be overt to the point of hilarity about his interest in being up where the people are, but he won't so much as lift a paw onto upholstery without express permission). For his first 6 or so years, he wasn't ever given a chance to leave his place on the floor - it's only been somewhat recently, really, that life shifted for both of us, and I decided to amend our long-standing house rules...

I wrote about the circumstances leading up to this event - and leading Oscar onto the bed - in an autumn issue of the Somerville, MA-based arts publication, Inkseed, and while the full text is too long to post here, the accompanying illustration (above) and following excerpt should nicely sum up what has become a heartfelt topic for both Oscar and I.

"And then it happened. At the end of a particularly long, anxious day, with all traces of order seemingly evaporated, I looked at him, looking at me… the evening hour paused… and I asked Oscar up onto the bed. 

If there is such a thing as a doggie double take, that was Oscar’s response. Incredulous, wary of being fooled into a trap, and listening to all his years of training to the contrary, he resisted (which mere months ago would have earned him a cookie on the spot). But I had made up my mind, and repetitious reassurances finally got him to leap up.

He likely spent that backwards night just waiting for the jig to be up; a dog that typically snores through even rugged nudges, his great head would pop up nervously every time I shifted. But I - like a lonely puppy in it’s first night crated solo will snuggle into the beating heart of a blanketed alarm clock - I wrapped an arm over him and let the steady metronome of Oscar’s breathing focus my own. I had broken a rule six years faithfully upheld, but in the midst of a great, grueling sea change, leaving the predictable in the past seemed imperative to moving forward.

...Over time, a new nighttime pattern took shape. There were kinks to work out, of course: invisible boundaries were determined to contain “sleeping dog sprawl”; a bed cover was appropriated to keep gritty paws off beloved quilts; and adherence to a new rule - dogs OFF the bed when the human rises in the morning - was required practice. But this novel routine was all ours, it belonged exclusively to Oscar and I, and tucking myself in beside velvet ears and the occasional groan of a beast settling into sleep became a beacon of comfort at the end of each day. Likewise, when anxiety gripped my chest tightly enough to startle me from sleep way ahead of my alarm each morning, I had a grounding wire to reach for beside me. My restless fidgets were met with sleepy brown eyes, and a yawn full of teeth who’s only concern was the hour of breakfast."

Change can be so good for the soul... All that being said - Oscar is not permitted to share the covers with me every night - nor does he want to! Amusingly, he has been known to refuse an invitation, in favor of his own (quite lavish) sleeping arrangement. I suppose, if dogs really do take after their owners, the battle of two bed hogs wears on the both of us sometimes...

Delicious Winter

Snow may not be everyone's preferred taste, but January in New England without a crisp blanket of white feels utterly lacking. Even after the sparkly silence of a city-mandated snow day has dusted off to expose sore shoveling muscles, lost mittens, and street-parking contests - you can't ignore the magic of winter... Just bundle up and keep those noses and toes toasty, dear friends!

At Long Last, Say Hello to...

Big news, dear readers! After many years of requests for prints and artwork from (or just in the general style of) this website, Oscar and I have finally collected our ducklings and stocked the virtual shelves of a proper online print shop! Though it be small, it contains a mighty handful of artworks that I'm very proud of: all prints are meticulously produced using archival quality inks and papers, and each one is hand-signed.

Making this shop debut extra special is the inclusion of a brand new, limited edition, hand-printed POSTER! My first screen-print - and boy is it a gem...


We know it's a crazed time of year, but if you've been following the Old Man Beast and I for this long, you already know you'll like what you see - so come visit! And if you've got a dog lover on your "nice list" this year, look no further for a great gift! All prints ship flat, so they're ready for framing or display.


Here's hoping you enjoy studio/animaux as much as we enjoyed bringing it to life... Be merry out there, dear ones, and happy holidaying!

~ N-zed & O-Town

Wicked Wonderful Autumn (Part 5)

Well, friends, it's happened... we've reached the end of our Wicked Wonderful Autumn-Inspired week of posts (brought to you by the letter "W"!)... It's been a JOY to work on this series (and reminisce about some of our favorite parts of the season), and we couldn't think of a more appropriate way to close out this project than to hunker down in front of one of Oscar's favorite things in the ENTIRE WORLD and settle into a good, well-deserved snooze. There's just no denying it - as a November drizzle starts to fall outside (and it actually is doing that, right this minute... ugh) the Warmth of a Woodstove is damn hard to beat.

Till next time, dear readers - we wish you bright days ahead and hope you find plenty of ways to appreciate your own highlights of the season, anytime, anywhere, and any season in which you see them.

Wicked Wonderful Autumn (Part 4)

Today's autumn-inspired feature (brought to you by the letter "W"!) needs little introduction - here on the East Coast we only wait all year for sweater weather! (if only Oscar were as big a fan as I am of accessorizing - winter would see him wrapped up in neck scarves like a Siberian prince!) 

*Before one makes a crack about toggle-jackets for creatures without the thumbs to work them, the Beast and I would like to remind everyone that not all canine clothing is silly and superfluous - there are a legitimate number of dogs out there with natural coats not befitting for their environment, and for these pups, a barrier against the elements, or simple added layer of warmth, can mean the difference between an uncomfortable dash around the block or a more pleasant, extended stroll (and when it comes to the deep dark depths of winter, every extra minute in the sunshine and fresh air helps). So if your companion is a sleek-coated, low body fat, sensitive soul, don't hesitate to help a critter out - zip, button or velcro him or her up into some Woolly Wear and get outside!

Wicked Wonderful Autumn (Part 3)

We all have that one friend... you know - that easy-going, good looking guy or gal who charms everyone they meet, is always excited to see you, and spends their summers in well-traveled fashion somewhere in the French Alps. For Oscar, that friend is Meeko (and yeah, he really does spend his summers in the Alps!).

Not only is Meeko a pretty terrific dude, he also has the distinction of being one of a select few dogs with whom Oscar has successfully vacationed. Oscar is a reasonable beast, of course, but he has his ways, and it isn't often that he meets another canine whose personal style seems to naturally diffuse all potential for territoriality, while simultaneously inspiring a laughable amount of play bows... for these qualities, Meeko is the MAN in our book. The two of them together made famous roomies for one outstanding fall weekend this year, and when the cool New England air got under their skin, and the woodland scents of the season piqued their drive, the romping and wrestling round the house began... and it. was. joyful.

For this third post in our week-long autumn highlight reel, we celebrate all those besties who make an already great day 100 times more fun: Here's to you, Meeko-boy, we can't wait to share the mountain trails and woodstove vibes with you on our next retreat.

Wicked Wonderful Autumn (Part 2)

Summer is a season of cool fruits, cold salads, and those weird cousins of soup that never touch a stove. We crave chilled meals to counter the heat on our skin, and combat what feels like constant dehydration... but when a bite returns to the air and our bodies start the game change to warming up without the help fo the sun, it's no surprise that our bellies snap out of their produce-nourished summer cleanse and start grumbling for BTU-fueling CARBS. Like bears getting ready for a long winter nap, a dietary autumn shift towards rib-sticking comfort food just feels right... why fight it??

A month or so ago, on a long September weekend spent in a chilly farmhouse, a best friend started whipping together Sunday breakfast before the Saturday dinner dishes had yet been cleared. Her preparation was ninja-swift and went largely unnoticed, but by morning everyone in the house was prompted from bed by the unmistakable - and impossible to ignore - smell of WAFFLES.

To Oscar's horror, I am not a huge fan of breakfast batter cakes, but... as evidenced by this post - these waffles were seriously something else. Their secret? Yeast in the batter, and 8 hours of quiet resting (and rising) before cooking. If you're in possession of a waffle iron and you haven't yet tried overnight waffles - it's time, my friends, IT'S TIME.

The original recipe followed above was from Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything, and it's delightful enough - I'm not the first to post it online (though I might be the first to illustrate it). And so, without further adieu, here's the "how-to" for Wait For It (overnight) Waffles!


STEP 1: Before going to bed, combine the dry ingredients and stir in the milk, then the butter and vanilla. The mixture will be loose. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside overnight at room temperature.

STEP 2: Brush the waffle iron lightly with oil and preheat it. Separate the eggs and stir the yolks into the batter. Beat the whites until they hold soft peaks. Stir them gently into the batter.

STEP 3: Pour batter onto the waffle iron and bake until the waffle is done, usually 3 to 5 minutes, depending on your iron. Serve immediately or keep warm for a few minutes in a low oven.

Makes: 4 to 6 servings
Time: 8 hours or more, largely unattended