The Return Home
Lisa Graziotto

Dylan, my Golden Retriever, was always by my side working in the studio with me, at the pub after work...basically he was welcomed everywhere. I enjoyed him helping out in the studio picking up brushes and walking around with them. In 2001, I lost my "assistant".

The day I had to take him to the vet I was a very distraught, but I was comforted by what I saw upon returning home.


From that moment on, Dylan would sit under the tree and stare at the ball waiting for it to come down. Last fall, we were out on the street playing baseball with a plastic ball that had holes in it, so when I struck it with the bat it wouldn't go very far. I'd hit the ball, and Dylan would run and fetch it, and so on. We would do this almost everyday during that October, until one day the wind carried the ball to the highest branch in one of our maple trees on the front lawn. The ball lodged itself between the branches. From that moment on, Dylan would sit under the tree and stare at the ball waiting for it to come down. The ball just wouldn't budge. It stayed their throughout the strong fall winds, the November winds, winter, then spring....

It was the beginning of July, the day I took Dylan to the vet...sunny, no wind. After the vet we went to the park to sit for a bit because the thought of returning home to an empty house just was unthinkable for me...he was my best friend, my boy. Well, we drove home and approaching the house I noticed something on the lawn under the tree. I got out of the car, walked over, and saw it was the ball! I don't know how it came down as there was no wind that day. I like to think that Dylan on his way to "wherever" knocked it down in spite--for me to know that he's still around...the sight of that ball broke me.

I was together during the over 45-minute procedure at the vet. They couldn't find a vein to insert the injection, plus Dylan couldn't lie down for very long as he was in pain. We had to wait until the right moment. The night before I stayed up holding his 90-pound body upright so he could sleep a bit...I refused to show emotion at the vet's office as I felt that if I did, he wouldn't want to "let go" because I was sad. But when I saw that ball, I just let go right on the lawn.

From that moment on and for the next several weeks my studio just wasn't the same. One day I found myself sitting at my desk and started to draw a dog, then I painted it. From that moment I felt as though Dylan was beside me once again. I joke about how when Dylan was alive he couldn't hold a paint brush with his paw due to not having thumbs...so now I say he is working through me.

Lisa G. was born in a big city in Ontario "when the air quality was still good and litter wasn’t seen on the ground." Growing up in the 70's was having "bell bottoms, a Dorothy Hamill hairstyle, and a banana seat bicycle, along with a box of crayons with a built-in pencil sharpener I took everywhere drawing on everything." She left the small town for the big city and enrolled in a fine arts program. But she attributes her learning experiences to her travels, "following in the footsteps of her heroes in the artworld" and her treasured art books as her mentors. Lisa lives in Toronto and works fulltime as an animal portraitist with clients all over the world. Her paintings can be viewed on her blog.

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