Mixed Breeds, Grief, and Getting Back to Work
I didn’t plan to bring back commissions. Not this year anyway. But loss changes things.
My dog died suddenly last week.
Scotty — my Greyhound, my shop assistant, my four-legged muse — is gone.
We’ve had four other Greyhounds. They all died of cancer. It’s never a good day when the vet looks you in the eye and tells you your beloved dog is terminally ill. But it gives you time to prepare mentally.
Sort of.
Scott laid down on his bed and, in a matter of minutes, he was in full-blown cardiac distress. In the 20 years we’ve shared our home with dogs, we’ve never had one collapse in front of us like this. Between frantic phone calls to the e-vet and pacing between the dining and living room (where Scotty lay), I had that inevitable moment where I knew…
* Holy sh*t…my dog is dying.*
This post wasn’t supposed to be sad.
It's about memories.
If you’ve followed Bark & Bone (or @meat.on.bones on Instagram), maybe you’ve seen him. He was tall, lazy, and very good at being nearby while I worked. With his trademark 70’s style lamb chops, he was playful, light on his paws (why walk when you can prance?), and managed to look like he was having a full blown existential crisis in nearly every damn photo or video we have of him.
Exhibit A.
My phone doesn’t know he’s gone.
It insists on sending me “memories” of Scotty, including the picture at the top of this post.
This was one of the pictures (of our dogs) that I’ve used to practice lining up skeletons. I think I’ve laid skeletons down on all of our dogs. It might sound a little morbid, but when I created my first skeleton using an old photo of our first Greyhound, Jack, I wasn’t sad.
Nor did it feel morbid.
In some weird way, it felt as though I’d reconnected with an old friend.
So here’s what’s happening.
For the first time since 2022, I’m opening custom commissions again.
For a moment, anyway.
Purebred. Mixed breed. Doesn't matter. Because I'll be working off your photos.
These are full skeletal portraits:
Built from your side-profile photos.
Custom poses welcome: standing, jumping, gaiting — you name it.
You’ll receive the digital art (and the license to use it as you please), and you can upgrade to prints, acrylics, or a sticker field kit to slap your dog’s bones on everything from your water bottle to your training clipboard.
Commissions open in early June. Slots will be limited.
There won’t be a fancy countdown or splash page. Just a quiet post, a few emails, and your chance to make something meaningful.
If you’ve ever wanted your mixed breed’s bones rendered with as much care as a show dog’s — this one’s for you.
Why Now?
Because I miss Scotty. Because art helps. Because your dog, whether purebred or not, deserves to be celebrated.
Your skeletal work of art doesn't need to be a memorial. It can simply be an anatomical celebration or your resident companion.
But...
If you’ve lost a dog recently, or are bracing for the loss, I’m with you.
This round’s for Scotty.
But it’s also for your dog.
Want to be notified when the commission slots open?
Stay on the mailing list or just check back here. You’ll know when it’s time.
