The dog who became a king
Plus: one more thing I learned In Norway and a guide to fonts asking you out.
A LITTLE HELP FROM OUR (CANINE) FRIENDS
King Cubby and his brethren
“I SAW A PUPPY in the backyard,” Barbara said. No way, I thought. In our yard, we often see raccoons, squirrels, the occasional possum, and—to this bird-lover’s dismay—the neighbors’ cats. But not puppies. They can’t climb the fences or trees. Still, when I looked out the back window, some little black ball of fur caught my eye as it dashed into the bushes.
The mystery was solved the next day when I walked by Lawrence’s house next door. Two Schipperke puppies, each the size of an eggplant and both heart-melters, came racing down to the gate to check me out. When I bent over and placed my hand through the wire gate, they leapt over each other to sniff my fingers before suddenly bolting back to the house. They’d burrowed under the fence into our yard, Lawrence later deduced. Days earlier, he said, he’d had gone to retrieve just one puppy. Instead, unable to bear separating two sisters, he brought both home. I could see why. As we spoke, they were chasing and tumbling over each other with the kind of carefree, high spirited energy that only the very young can muster.
The puppies replaced Lawrence’s previous Schipperke, who had died a few months ago. I’ve long loved the breed. As it happens, our old neighbor in Berkeley, Larry, also owned a Schipperke named Cubby. Larry is a musician whose clarinet playing we loved to hear through the window in the evening. To make a living, he taught music at various schools in the area. That left Cubby alone during the day, which Schipperkes famously dislike. Since I then spent most of my days in our backyard studio writing, I volunteered to be Cubby’s companion.
We had such fun. Schipperkes originated in Belgium. Their name is variously translated as “little shepherd” or “little captain”. They are low to the ground and many were trained to be rat hunters on barges. As a result, they can turn on a dime and wriggle into small spaces, so no thrown ball eludes them. In our yard, I’d throw the ball over and over, but Cubby never tired. Of course, I did, and I couldn’t play ball all day. Deadlines loomed. Cubby really tried to understand, I thought. At my desk, he would sit patiently under between my feet for awhile. But at some point, he would leap up between my legs in a slightly alarming way and let loose a series of short, sharp barks. Resistance was futile.
My friend Bill was also enamored with Cubby. He became pals with Larry when he was editing a film in our backyard studio. Bill needed a musician for the score, loved Larry’s sample tape, and only then learned he lived across the fence. Later, Cubby became the inspiration for a children’s book that Bill wrote, illustrated, and turned into a short video. King Cubby, the Dog Who Made It to the Top features me as the Enemy King and is available on YouTube. Like the characters in Bill’s other children’s books, you don’t have to be a kid to be charmed by King Cubby.
Almost all Schipperkes are black. I was recently surprised to run into one named Monster, whose owner, Forest, explained that brown ones like his are rare indeed.
WHAT I LEARNED IN NORWAY, PART 5
When the Germans came and stayed
By Barbara Ramsey
FOR AMERICANS, Norwegian history is all about the Vikings, whose explorations and plunder ran from roughly 800–1050 CE. But after that? Check out the Hanseatic League, a loosely affiliated group of European merchant guilds and market towns formed in Northern Germany in the late 12th century. Over the next few hundred years the league expanded to more than two hundred towns along along the North and Baltic Seas.
Like many multinational companies today, the league lacked state power and a standing army, yet enjoyed considerable privileges and protections in its various trading posts. In 1360, one was established in Bergen on Norway’s west coast and continued operating for four centuries. The German merchants traded cereal, flour, malt, and beer for Norwegian fish and fish oil using barter and a complicated system of credit—no cash. Conflict with Bergen authorities periodically ensued, but pressure was applied, palms were greased, and business prevailed. Over the 16th century, Dutch and English traders finally began to edge out the Hansa. Bergen was the last Hanseatic outpost to go, holding out until 1754. Many of their old buildings on the Bergen wharves have been beautifully restored and their new shops are happy to take your credit or your cash.
FOR THE LOVE OF TYPE
MORE FONT FUN from Elle Cordova!
EVENTS
A REMINDER that I will be in conversation with Meg about her new book at Sunrise Coffee House on September 27, 6-8 pm. Sunrise is located at 308 Tenth Street in Port Townsend, WA.
The portraits of you as the Enemy King are charming and capture your special generous personality.