My daughter had a dance recital this weekend. Instead of flowers, the in-laws thought to get her something a little more long-lasting and picked up a Fur Real stuffed dog thing she has been wanting. She was very happy about this.
A day later, she was upstairs, playing with some friends politely and quietly. This usually means trouble, so I popped in to check on them. The first clue something was amiss was the pungent odor of nail polish, which is supposed to be one of those “only under adult supervision” sorts of things, which my daughter theoretically knows.
“Were you painting your nails?” I asked her.
“Noooooo,” she said in an indignant tone. “I know I’m not allowed to do that by myself. Sheesh.”
And she then went back to using the nail polish brush as a mascara wand on her new stuffed animal.
So the first words out of my mouth were, “I am not happy about this.”
The second words, which I bit back before getting out, were, “That is truly not much of an improvement, you know.”
My annoyance at this stuffed animal abuse quickly turned to amusement. As a veterinarian, I couldn’t help but make an armchair diagnosis of the maladies she had inflicted upon it:
Hematemesis, clearly. Maybe some sort of GI ulceration causing that blood-tinged vomit. Nasty problem, there.
Nasal discharge- maybe kennel cough? -and what appears to be a melting corneal ulcer. That bilateral ocular discharge looks pretty funky. Ow.
And, of course, a hotspot. Poor dog.
I got where she was going with everything except that last bit there. Maybe she really did just spend too much time with me at work.
In the meantime, I’m debating whether I should give acetone a shot or simply let this form of modern art stand on its own merits. Perhaps I was simply misinterpreting my daughter’s artistic vision this whole time.
I’ve seen similar pieces at the Museum of Contemporary Art, now that you mention it. “Revlon Rover: using a Hasbro toy and nail polish, the artist reflects on the juxtaposition of the desire for posh designer breeds and the medical maladies inflicted upon them in the puppy mill environment.” Look, she even got the ear tags right.
My God. My daughter is a genius.