Wiener Dog Art?

In my youth, between the ages of 11 and 16 ,I managed to amass a vast and varied collection of wiener dog themed art.

To explain, since the age of three I had pined after a wiener dog of my own. Thanks in part to the children's book, Whistle for Willie, my dog of choice was cemented into the still tender synapses of my young brain, through colorful pages full of whimsical, wiener-y fun.

As I got older my passion for wiener dogs, fueled by my acquisition of my very own puppy one Christmas, spread to my budding understanding of art. It made sense to me at the time that since wiener dogs were the best thing on the planet then naturally I should seek out as many artful representations of them as I could. And so my collection grew.

It started as the stuff of youth: stuffed animals, beanie babies; but as my taste in art matured, my collection grew to embrace more substantial pieces: paintings, framed photographs, and a vast army of wiener dog statues. If you had stumbled into my bedroom circa 1996 you would have been greeted by a wild and festive menagerie of wiener dog figurines.

The figurine collection, the piece de resistance of my artistic arsenal, featured an impressive array of wiener dog diversity. The statues encompassed a spectrum of various hues: ruddy red, ebony and tan, tawny and sleek, and a litany of poses: reclining, casual basking, alert readiness and my favorite--military straight like an attentive meerkat.

For the most part my mother was my main supplier when it came to acquiring new pieces and for years after my singular passion had subsided she would still sneak in a photo here, a tiny statuette there at birthdays and at Christmas.

Looking back now I don't really know what to make of the whole thing. Was it art? Kitsch? If there was craftsmanship to be admired in any of the pieces of my extensive collection was it all negated because they tended toward"collectibles" or because of the narrow subject matter? I don't know.

I do know that I couldn't bring myself to throw any of it away. I'm probably one of the few 26 year old married men who boasts such a collection. If you come to my house these days you can still still see remnants: a tasteful black and white photograph hangs on my living room wall, a cast iron wiener dog door stop, my favorite statue now serves as a classy bookend.

And of course if I really think about it the real masterpiece is and always has been Oscar, my spry now 12 year old puppy. A true example of artistic form, function, and aesthetic beauty.