My father with Una - Scottish Collie, one of her pups and Doca - Cocker Spaniel (1978)
Beside running the leather and fur business all over former Yugoslavia and strongly dwelling into kinology field, my father has been a very keen active wildlife hunter as well as an amateur wine producer and a botanist and -last but not least - a military reserve officer, while my mother has been a leather seamstress and an assistant companion in all of his endeavors. Nevertheless, all of the above mentioned has just been a sort of a scenery behind the main focus of my family - dogs, the almost only agents that enabled sharing some real gentle affections between the three of us.
At the beginning of the 3rd millennium, when the liberal capitalism finally stroke hard into the newborn Slovenian economy, as a consequence, my parents lost their business, house, cars, forests, meadows, vineyards, due to the several mortgages they took during the nineties, to keep our perception of an easy socialistic living of the past eighties artificially alive. As a consequence of that break, my father committed suicide. All of the dogs have either been sold / donated further or escaped into the unknown. That´s at least what my mother and aunt have told me. Although I never fully believed those stories, as I never believed any during the time of other dogs "disappearing". They would usually stay with us (my family) for a couple of years, three at most, and then I would just come home from school one day, and the dog would be gone to an unknown location. The kinship would be broken abruptly accompanied by pain and the void made by the lack of truth which I would mitigate into a new kinship. With a new dog. The dogs have just been one of my father´s compulsive projects. But still, they have always been an appreciative medium for our most of the time unspoken affections. This kind of psychodynamics reminds me of the one Sigmund and Anna Freud have had in their letters regarding their beloved Jofi, the Chow Chow. So much on hysteria (only) in women.