Rufus & George
on play, companionship, loyalty and love
Dear Friends,
Meet Rufus & George.
Rufus is a broken ~100 year old Meissen porcelain Pug; George is a well-loved Steiff monkey from the 1960’s.
Yesterday, I rescued them both from a notch in a tree trunk out in my Garden Library. I put them there a year ago, thinking it was time for them, and me, to move on from our decade long conversation about objects and the value of things.
They survived almost ten months in the elements - - heat, cold, snow, rain, fog. Clearly, George is a little worse for wear. And what happened to his bright pink scarf? But both of their eyes still shine with curiosity and wonder.
Ten years ago, in February 2014, I rescued them for the first time - - Rufus from my grandmother’s curio cabinet where he’d been for at least fifty years and George from my ‘keepsake’ trunk in the attic. They needed fresh air. I needed foreground interest, something to focus my attention while trying to figure out my place of unsettled betweenness. At the time, I called it my ‘hybrid life.’ 1
George, a gift from my grandmother who skinny-dipped, was my more ‘natural’ self, the one who liked to climb trees; Rufus, who had belonged to my other grandmother who played bridge and tennis and was once on the ‘ladies committee’ at an art museum, was my more cautious self, the one who lived in a colonial house and married a physician.2
At the time, I was ill-at-ease with these two parts of myself, struggling with what seemed to be an ongoing conflict - - the more curious me at battle with the more cautious me. Like that hybrid life, I wanted to go in one direction, but was also holding myself back.
So together, the three of us explored. At museums, we people watched.
In the woods, we marveled at bright orange fungi.
And when hanging out with a collection of shells I’d once found in Florida, we considered questions of ownership and entitlement.
What gave me the right to take these shells in the first place? Should I fly back to Florida to return them to the place from which they came, or could I put them in a glass jar and keep enjoying these reminders of nature’s gifts?
Another ‘hybrid’ moment filled with questions and very few answers. We considered these kinds of things all the time. In fact, they became the subject of a blog in which they conversed about complex and controversial subjects, allowing me to keep at arms length.3
We slowed down and wondered together.
Having Rufus & George along for the ride made it all more fun.
But after a year or so I realized I had to speak for myself. So I stopped that particular blog and explored others ways to express myself.
It took me a while to find my voice, but if it hadn’t been for these two delightful beady-eyed creatures, I might not have started exploring with my camera and curiosity and I might not have uncovered all that I did in the compost pile, the landfill and my own back yard.
By last year, I felt it was time for them to move on entirely, to set them free from the embroidered vintage purse they’d inhabited when not on an adventure…
But if I’d really wanted to let them go, would I have placed them in the Garden Library and photographed them periodically throughout the past ten months?
What the three of us have come to understand, I think, is that the true value of an object lies not in its ‘valuation’ but in its emotional importance to whomever that object belongs.
Why else would this cute porcelain pug have had his leg mended multiple times but still be placed into a curio cabinet and protected for more than a century?
It really doesn’t surprise me that yesterday morning I felt compelled to play with Rufus and George again.
We hung out with the broken, moss-filled hiking boots and ‘read’ one of the decomposing books in the Garden Library.
And when they came back inside, I washed them, dried them, and let them sit on the counter to get warm. Those separate and competing parts of myself that ten years ago caused such uncertainty, seem to have made peace and found comfort with each other.
And today, I was so glad these two friends could join me at Lucky’s Cafe (Lucky’s Coffee Garage) in Lebanon, NH. I think Gram and Grandma, two ‘flappers’ from the 20’s, would have enjoyed the cafe culture, and especially appreciated the vibe at this converted gas station.
I’m not sure what they would have thought about the art in the Bank Street Gallery at AVA, but I know they would have been amused to see Rufus and George hanging out there.
While I’m happy to recycle tent poles and discard old holiday cards (see last week’s post Why Bother?), I am definitely not ready to say goodbye to you, Rufus and George. Your worn fur and broken leg make you more precious to me than before.
Thank you for toughing it out this past year and for demonstrating the resilience of loyalty and love. While the issues that challenged us a decade ago remain powerful, it seems we are ready to consider them again, but with the benefit of wisdom that comes with time.
Who knows where our explorations will take us next, but I’m glad you’re back and we’re in this together. You really do add a marvelously light touch to my life.
Happy 10th anniversary, my friends.
And happy 6 months on Substack! Thank you for sharing your time and this space with me.
With cheers and gratitude for you being you,
Lyn
If you have any objects that you just can’t part with or that have an interesting story, please share it below! Or, if you have friends who might be curious about Rufus & George, consider sharing this post with them.
This idea of a ‘hydrid life’ came to me in 2014 after flushing a low impact toilet the wrong way - I kept pushing down when I was supposed to pull up for pee. While it’s habit now, a decade ago I kept messing up, forgetting, because hadn’t we all been praised as children for flushing the toilet at all!? There’s that nagging feeling - - I know I’m supposed to do x, but end up doing y anyway. Ugh. On a larger scale, there’s that issue of getting on an airplane to visit family and friends, knowing that air travel is a nasty carbon emitter, but being unable to keep ourselves from staying connected. If I didn’t visit family, I’d feel bad. But visiting family also seemed to make me feel bad. The hybrid life - - that place between - - knowing one thing, sometimes doing the ‘right’ thing, but still stuck in old habits. Like a hybrid car - - trying so hard to move toward the future, but still stuck in a gas-powered structure and design.
Rufus, the pug, and George, the monkey (a chimpanzee? in the 70’s we used more generic terms) both have an established provenance: Rufus is a Meissen porcelain Pug that sat for more than 50 years in my grandmother’s curio cabinet. To learn more about Meissen porcelain in general, here’s a link. If you’re curious, do a google search for “meissen porcelain pug studded blue collar” and you’ll see the range of other such figurines out there. The gold studded collar and smooth fur indicate that Rufus is more of a 19th century version…but none online have broken legs and such.
George is a 4 1/2 inch Steiff monkey that was, I believe, a gift from my other grandmother, Grandma. The Steiff company started selling the “Jocko” monkey in 1909 - - I know nothing about how it got its name, but it came in a variety of sizes and styles over the decades. George, whom I named after none other than Curious George (so original), seems to be a rare miniature Jocko produced in the late 1960’s. Given his current state, his value on Etsy is probably pretty low, but he has been a faithful companion. Here’s a recent ‘rare’ find that looks like my George on Etsy. To learn more about Steiff, you can explore their website. Their current Jocko Chimpanzee is 28”!
There is no record of that blog, as I deleted it from The Web. If you google Rufus & George today, you’ll find all kinds of links related to dog ramps.
What joy to read your words and see these two again. Fearless and faithful, they seem to embody the courage to be oneself.