Tag: Kotes by Kobe

Yesterday was the first day of the Lunar New Year, and despite not being of Asian persuasion (clearly I’ve got the French thing happening) why pass up any opportunity to acknowledge a holiday?

Apart from a day to feast to excess (as befitting the Year of the Pig), New Years Day is also when the promise of the year ahead feels the ripest and when we pledge to change all we need to change so we can reach the new goals we’ve set ourselves. And yet in our eagerness for change, I wonder if we sometimes risk losing the very essence of our me-ness.

Here is my confession. You see, I’ve long had a wish for opposable thumbs. Thumbs that can open pantry and fridge doors, grip and twist peanut butter jar lids, and unzip bags of snacks. This longstanding wish, brought to front of mind every so often by a tasty food item just out of reach, culminated in an incident involving 12 freshly-baked berry muffins packed into plastic Ziploc bags, cooling on the kitchen benchtop. Oh how I cursed my lack of opposable thumbs, for which I would’ve gladly traded my double dew claws that day. Pyrs are one of the few breeds of dog that have double dew claws on their hind legs. It’s sort of like having a spare toe, useful for navigating the mountainous terrain of our ancestors in the Pyrenees Mountains, rather less so for opening Ziploc bags containing berry muffins.

The memory left me pondering how often we rue the way we are and wish for an easy fix that we think would make our lives better. We might wish we were skinnier, or had different hair, or came from a different background. What we forget in those moments, or don’t acknowledge as often as we should in general, is that we are exactly what we are for a reason. We fit into a bigger picture. If Pyrs did have opposable thumbs instead of double dew claws, they might’ve snagged a few more muffins in life, but more likely would’ve been too busy falling down mountains and getting eaten by wolves. If I had different hair, I might not have been able to make clothing out of it for other dogs.

The start of a new year, even a symbolic one, is a time for us to be grateful for what we have and not to yearn for what we are not meant to have. However you believe the world and all that’s in it was created, trust that we are right just the way we are.

For the record, I did not let simple anatomy stand in the way of those muffins. I mauled every Ziploc bag with my teeth and extracted every single crumb. It took a herculean effort, primarily to avoid eating the plastic along with the muffins, but as the gloriously buttery cake crumbled in my mouth with its tangy bursts of berry and the shell of sprinkled sugar crystals cracked with a satisfying crunch between my teeth, I wondered whether the real lesson is that whatever we lack in opposable thumbs may yet be possible to overcome by willpower.

May your new year be rich with opportunity to celebrate all that you are.

If I had to pick a favourite time of year, I reckon it would be Christmas. Not because of the parties and feasts and presents that change paws this time of year (well, not just because of that). I like the spirit of Christmas, a time of thinking of others and of giving, whether to one’s own loved ones or to the broader community. It’s a time when those who are fortunate enough to be able to give make a more conscious effort to think about those who are not.

The Christmas spirit reminds me of why I started Kotes by Kobe, promoting a philosophy where puppers who are blessed with long shaggy coats can help to keep their shorter-haired brethren warm. So often you hear about what is lacking in the world – not enough money, not enough to eat or drink, possibly not enough squeaky toys. If what one lacks is enough fur to stay warm, then surely those who have more than enough should share their abundance.

There’s another part of Christmas that reflects why I have my business. Many of us live in wasteful societies where things are discarded long before they’ve outlasted their utility. I try to reduce the impact of this by picking food scraps up from the ground that others have dropped, but strangely this makes mum cross. By reusing discarded dog fur to make clothing for other dogs, we’re just doing our small part to reduce waste in the world.

Compassion and sustainability shouldn’t be seasonal – it’s what we should practice year-round. But if it takes a special occasion such as Christmas to nudge us in the right direction, I’m not complaining.

Today (14th July) is Bastille Day, the national holiday in France, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to acknowledge my French roots. Us Pyrs originate from the Pyrenees Mountains that separate the southern part of France from Spain, where we’ve been guarding flocks of sheep and goats for thousands of years. That’s the job we were originally bred for, and we worked without the benefit of instruction from our shepherds, who – being less sure-footed – did not accompany us high into the mountains.

We’ve even been upgraded to royalty, for in 1675, the Dauphin in the court of King Louis XIV declared Pyrs the Royal Dog of France, and we spent many subsequent years guarding the estates of the French nobility. King Kobe has a rather nice ring to it, don’t you think?

Fast forward to 2018, and many of us now live in domestic settings rather than up high in the mountains. We may not be responsible for large flocks and our double dew claws may get rather less of a workout, but I think we find new ways to demonstrate our Pyr-ness. I think my Pyr-ness is why I came up with Kotes by Kobe.

Even without a flock, Pyrs still retain their guardian instinct. In my case, I’m not protecting against wolves or bears like my ancestors did, rather I want to protect my pupper friends from shivering their way through winter. Since both the fur on one’s back and clothing can help in that endeavour, I thought making clothing out of spare fur would be the perfect solution. Rather more steps involved than chasing off a bear, but ya know, Pyrs are a rather cerebral doggo.

And despite not having my own flock, sheep still play a significant role in my life. All the fur in our Kotes is blended with sheep’s wool that we source direct from Australian growers. Wool is like the glue that keeps our special blends of fibre together. Also, and I’m not sure if this is just coincidence, humans often tell me I look like a sheep, and border collies try to round me up. Personally I do not see the resemblance, but there you go.

So, as the world celebrates all things French today, I’d like to tip my beret to my French roots. They will always be part of my me-ness.

Have you ever had a moment where someone makes an offhand comment to you in passing, but in your mind it grows to take on a significance that was never intended by the speaker? That was how Kotes by Kobe started.

It was April 2016, my first autumn, and a crisp fall chill had set into the air. Being made for mountain climate, I did struggle with the summer heat, and mum had to leave the air con on for me all day. Now I’ve got a spring in my step when we’re out on our walks and feel like I can keep going for hours.

I noticed this sentiment was not shared by my fellow puppers who were less well-endowed in the fur department. In recent weeks, many a jacket or jumper have sprung up across the backs of puppies in the dog park, just as their humans have started sporting an assortment of winter wear and accessories. Mum often rugs up in a scarf and vest when we go out, especially early in the mornings.

Pyrs have a weather-resistant double coat, consisting of a woolly undercoat and a thick outer coat with longer fur, designed to protect us from the harsh elements in the mountains. Many dog owners have remarked to mum how they wished their dog could have a coat like mine to help them stay warm in the wintertime. It hadn’t occurred to me at that stage that there are those who do not have such coats naturally, and must therefore purchase them from shops.

One evening, a small group of us pups were playing in the local park while our parents huddled nearby. A dachshund, a whippet and two greyhounds were dressed in their winter jackets, one of them shivering visibly in spite of his outerwear.

Mum nodded her usual commiserations while the other owners lamented their dogs’ lack of natural winter protection and sighed how they wished their dogs could have a coat like mine. Then, one of them went a step further. He said to mum, “I wish I could knit a jumper out of Kobe’s hair for my dog.” Mum laughed with him and all the other humans. Their conversation quickly moved on to another topic, but those words stayed with me long after we were home from the dog park.

I couldn’t stop wondering, what if you could? What if you really could take my fur and use it to knit a jumper for a more follicly challenged dog? I don’t know how, since puppers don’t knit, but I do know that I have more fur than I need. Could there be a way to harness all that fur for a good cause? I mean, it’s not a novel concept, is it, for those who have more than they need to give their surplus to those who do not have enough? Countless charities base their success on this fundamental premise. I just don’t think the premise has ever been applied to dog hair before.

But as humans like to say, there’s a first time for everything, and just like that, my purpose in life suddenly appeared before my eyes. Now you may wonder, why does a pupper need a purpose in life? But that’s a story for another time.