Blueberry: Blue Heeler Portrait

I was at home, my husband traveling for work, when I got this sudden, frantic feeling: our dog was waiting. I know it sounds crazy, but I had an intense urge—almost a pull—to go to the humane society.

I knew the second I saw her. Tiny, mostly black, with a white head and tail. She was scared, so I took her into the kitten room, and she lit up. This 7-week-old puppy looked like a giant neck with eyes and a tail—a tail that never, ever stopped wagging. Not even when she was riddled with cancer and pain, not even when she was about to die, did that tail stop. She came into this world giving all the life and joy she could, and she left the same way.

I called my husband and said, “I found our dog.” He hadn’t even seen her, but he immediately ordained her Blueberry—a fitting name for a Blue Heeler. Blueberry was a long name, so she became Bleebs. Bleebs was buoyant, joyful, and extremely gentle. Because of this, we sometimes called her, ironically, “Beast.” She answered to all of them.

Bleebs was my chronic hike friend. On trails, I used sign language to communicate with her. With her, I experienced a bond that felt unprecedented—like we were one unit, reading each other’s body language, completely tuned in.

Losing her was awful. She wanted to go, and she lay down in the snow. But even in extreme pain, she gave everyone her classic tail wag. I held her paw as she left. I loved her fiercely and, in many ways, she remains my hero.

I know what it is to lose a best friend who is “just” a dog.

One more story about Bleebs. She was gentle—so gentle that I never saw an ounce of aggression in her. But she was a cattle dog: always watching, always alert. Once, my little son was in the forested front yard and a big dog was approaching. I had my back turned, and Bleebs bolted—she made that dog wish he hadn’t been born. We were all awestruck at her bravery and her instant, instinctive response to protect.

Bleebs had many characteristic looks, but I chose this pose because it reminds me of her loving watchfulness—her generous, pack-oriented spirit. She loved us as much as we loved her. Her gift was to be watchful, loyal, adaptable, brave, and endlessly joyful. Bleebs, I miss you every day, and this portrait brings me happiness daily.

I loved painting this portrait so much that I wanted to give others the same gift that inspired me, so I started taking pet commissions. I find painting pet portraits deeply fulfilling. I connect with each pet, because I know I am painting a best friend. Why do these pets enter our soul so deeply? It remains a mystery, one I’m grateful to be a part of. Check out my gallery for more pet portrait images, and my commission page to read more about how the process looks to start your pet portrait!