Kathy and Sam

Kathy loved lavishly: her husband of 39 years, her dog, her life. She and her husband, who has been chronically ill for years, were introverts and best friends; they doted on each other and had few friends, so I felt lucky to be trusted with their friendship. Kathy was fit, hardy, health-conscious and active. She loved cooking, long walks, working out at the gym, and water aerobics, and she was a volunteer at the Humane Society for years, often walking the big dogs, proud of her ability to control them with love, confidence, and firm commands. She cared tenderly for her husband, who has struggled with health issues since childhood but flourished under her care. She died on December 14, only a few days after being diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. 

Kathy asked me to make this portrait of her with Sam about six years ago. At the time Sam was a recent rescue and was so anxious about the camera that he bit my arm. Kathy was alert and quick to command him to let go, so he didn’t do any serious damage to my arm, but I was nervous during the photo shoot (you can see her holding tightly to his collar in the photo). I remained wary of Sam and didn’t visit often after that, which I now regret, but I’m glad I persevered in making the double portrait. Yesterday when I visited Kathy’s husband, I saw the photo hanging in their dining room, where I presume it has been all this time.

Sam has gone to live with Kathy’s daughter, and I plan to visit Kathy’s husband more often than I have in the past, to encourage him to talk about her and to piece together a life going forward.