Latest news with #StBernards


The Herald Scotland
16-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Herald Scotland
Paintings once owned by Rolling Stones drummer to be sold in dog art auction
One of the paintings once held in the collection of Watts is A Proud Mother by Robert Alexander, which is estimated to fetch £4,000-£6,000. Depicting a collie with its pups, it was originally exhibited at the Royal Academy in London in 1879. Bonhams said Watts was a devoted lover of dogs, owning nine collies with his wife, and was a patron of the Forever Hounds Trust. Leo Webster, picture specialist at Bonhams, said: 'We're exceptionally lucky to be offering paintings by of some of the most sought-after artists of dogs, from the 19th century to the 21st. 'The sale contains a wonderfully diverse range of breeds, from large deerhounds, St Bernards, and setters to smaller toy breeds like Affenpinschers, spaniels, and the ever-charming Dandie Dinmonts. There's something for every dog lover. Dandie Dinmont Terrier Ginger III features in the sale (Bonhams/PA) 'The dog sale consistently sparks fantastic interest from collectors around the world, and this year's auction is no exception; we're certainly seeing that same international buzz building already. 'The works in this sale come from a range of sellers, including some passionate collectors who've dedicated years, even lifetimes, to building their dog art collections – the loyalty goes both ways. 'A few paintings in this year's sale once belonged to Charlie Watts, drummer for The Rolling Stones, and judging by the collies featured in his collection, it's safe to say he had a soft spot for them.' Bonhams said there are six paintings in the sale that were previously owned by Mr Watts (lots 2, 19, 85, 86, 87 and 88). These are being offered from a collection unrelated to the late drummer but were purchased directly from his estate and were not on the open market. Other pictures in the sale include a painting by Eugene Verboeckhoven, titled Duke, depicting a King Charles spaniel, which is estimated at £15,000-£20,000. A 19th century British painting titled Dandie Dinmont Terrier Ginger III, by an artist known as APB, is estimated to sell for £3,000-£5,000. The long bodied, short-legged terriers were named after Dandie Dinmont, a central character in the Sir Walter Scott novel Guy Mannering. The sale takes place on July 23.


The Star
08-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Star
Saint Bernards are the furry stars at this unique Swiss theme park
Syrah walks slowly and deliberately on a treadmill submerged in a large water tank, as two therapists help keep her steady, and a crowd looks on in awe. The eight-year-old St Bernard is receiving her regular hydrotherapy session, while visitors to the newly reopened Barryland theme park in the Swiss Alpine valley town of Martigny follow every move. "We give hydrotherapy to older dogs or dogs that have undergone surgery," said Barryland director Melanie Glassey-Roth. "Everything here is conceived for the wellbeing of our dogs." Revamped from a smaller, "living museum" focused on St Bernards, after two years of work Barryland has morphed into a large, interactive theme park fully dedicated to Switzerland's national dog. Built in the shape of a paw print, the main building offers interactive experiences and virtual reality tours of the history and myths surround the St Bernard, as well as the chance to interact with the big dogs themselves. The park is hoping to see its visitor numbers soar to potentially 200,000 a year, up from 83,000 before the renovation. A St Bernard during a grooming session at Barryland. Emblematic hound The St Bernard breed, which reached a new level of stardom when it starred in the 1992 blockbuster Hollywood comedy film Beethoven, was cross-bred into existence centuries ago in the Swiss Alps, not too far from where today's theme park lies. It was originally bred from farm dogs indigenous to the region by a hospice monastery, perched 2,500m above sea level, to use for rescue work in the perilous Great St Bernard Pass between Switzerland and Italy. "This is an emblematic dog that represents the entire region," said Jean-Maurice Tornay, head of the Barry Foundation, which runs Barryland. A visitor taking a picture of a St Bernard at the park. Barryland got its name from the most famous and heroic St Bernard of all. Local lore holds that Barry, who lived from 1800 to 1814 and was credited with more than 40 rescues in his lifetime, carried a little barrel of alcohol around his collar, a welcome drink for weary travellers. In his honour, the monastery always had one dog named Barry – a tradition that continues at Barryland today. The park's current Barry, a towering seven-and-a-half-year-old male weighing around 80kg, is the largest and most decorated of its dogs. A visitor taking a photo of a framed picture of Barry, the most famous St Bernard rescue dog. The Barry Foundation has 36 St Bernards in all who live at a nearby kennel in Martigny. Some dogs spend whole summers up at the Great St Bernard Pass. But with the reopening of Barryland, 16 dogs from the Martigny kennel will crowd into a large van each morning and be driven across to the theme park, ready to play stars. New mission At Barryland, the giant dogs, with their dark-ringed eyes and fur covered in reddish-brown patches, run around in spacious, grassy parks, lounge in large indoor enclosures and submit to grooming, massages and treatments. During the recent reopening, the park presented two new puppies, Xcell and Xaver, who tumbled enthusiastically around their mother Lio, nudging her until she sat down to let them nurse. Nearby, dog handler Sahel Robette encouraged Tosca, an eight-year-old female, to climb onto a large weighing scale. "(She's) 65kg!" he exclaimed, as he began brushing her down, searching her fur for tics and inspecting her ears and nails. An old picture of two St Bernards and a priest taken at the Great Saint Bernard pass. Once the heroes of the Swiss Alps, St Bernards today are doing heroic work in other settings, Tornay said. With helicopters having taken over their rescue role, the St Bernard has "found a new social mission", he said. The foundation's dogs make hundreds of visits each year to hospitals, nursing homes and prisons, where they are used for therapy and social training, "sharing a little bit of kindness", he said. The St Bernard is perfect for these missions, Glassey-Roth said, as one of the dogs laid its giant head on her lap. "It has a quiet force; it is calm and very social." – AFP

Straits Times
07-07-2025
- General
- Straits Times
Hiker in Alpine crevasse rescued... by a chihuahua
Sign up now: Get ST's newsletters delivered to your inbox A man had been hiking on the glacier with his Chihuahua, when he suddenly plunged into an 8m-deep crevasse, leaving the tiny dog alone on the edge. – When it comes to mountain rescues, St Bernards may have met their match, with a chihuahua being praised for helping save a man who fell into a glacier crevasse in Switzerland. The 'extraordinary' rescue took place on July 4 on the Fee Glacier above Saas-Fee in the southern Swiss Alps, the Air Zermatt rescue service said in a statement over the weekend. A man had been hiking on the glacier with his Chihuahua early in the afternoon, when he suddenly plunged into an 8m-deep crevasse, leaving the tiny dog alone on the edge. The man was carrying an amateur walkie-talkie and managed to call for help, but rescue workers struggled to locate the site of the accident. 'On site, the search for the collapse site proved difficult. The glacier surface was wide, and the hole was barely visible,' Air Zermatt, a regional rescue service in Wallis canton, said. But then one of the rescuers spotted a small movement on a rock: the chihuahua had not budged from the edge of the crevasse. 'Thanks to the dog's behaviour, the crew was able to locate the exact site of the accident,' Air Zermatt said, adding that 'rescuers abseiled down to the casualty and were able to save him'. Top stories Swipe. Select. Stay informed. Singapore Eligible S'poreans to get up to $850 in GSTV cash, up to $450 in MediSave top-ups in August Singapore Four golf courses to close by 2035, leaving Singapore with 12 courses Singapore Fewer marriages and births in Singapore in 2024; greater stability for later cohorts Singapore Paternity leave take-up in S'pore rises to 56% in 2023; experts hope for further boost after extension Singapore Construction starts on Cross Island Line Phase 2; 6 MRT stations in S'pore's west ready by 2032 Singapore $1.46b nickel scam: Ng Yu Zhi opts to remain silent after judge calls for his defence Asia Bali flights nixed after huge Indonesia volcano eruption Life How to cope with the heat when travelling: 5 expert-backed tips 'It is fair to say that his behaviour contributed significantly to the successful rescue.' AFP

Straits Times
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Straits Times
St Bernards romp at unique Swiss theme park
Sign up now: Get ST's newsletters delivered to your inbox A St Bernard dog exercises in a pool in the Barryland museum and theme park in Martigny, in the Swiss Alps. MARTIGNY, Switzerland – Syrah walks slowly and deliberately on a treadmill submerged in a large water tank, as two therapists help keep her steady, and a crowd looks on in awe. The eight-year-old St Bernard is receiving her regular hydrotherapy session, while visitors to the newly reopened Barryland theme park in the Swiss Alpine valley town of Martigny follow every move. 'We give hydrotherapy to older dogs or dogs that have undergone surgery,' said Barryland director Melanie Glassey-Roth. 'Everything here is conceived for the well-being of our dogs.' Revamped from a smaller, 'living museum' focused on St Bernards and after two years of work, Barryland has morphed into a large, interactive theme park fully dedicated to Switzerland's national dog. Built in the shape of a paw print, the main building offers interactive experiences and virtual-reality tours of the history and myths that surround the St Bernard, as well as the chance to interact with the big dogs themselves. The park is hoping to see its visitor numbers soar to potentially 200,000 a year, up from 83,000 before the renovation. Emblematic dog representing entire region The St Bernard breed, which reached a new level of stardom when it was featured in the 1992 blockbuster Hollywood comedy film Beethoven, was cross-bred into existence centuries ago in the Swiss Alps, not too far from where today's theme park lies. It was originally bred from farm dogs indigenous to the region by a hospice monastery – perched 2,500m above sea level – to use for rescue work in the perilous Great St Bernard Pass between Switzerland and Italy. 'This is an emblematic dog that represents the entire region,' said Mr Jean-Maurice Tornay, head of the Barry Foundation, which runs Barryland. Barryland got its name from the most famous and heroic St Bernard of all. Local lore holds that Barry, who lived from 1800 to 1814 and was credited with more than 40 rescues in his lifetime, carried a little barrel of alcohol around his collar, a welcome drink for weary travellers. A St Bernard dog receives care in the Barryland museum and theme park in Martigny, in the Swiss Alps. PHOTO: AFP In his honour, the monastery always had one dog named Barry – a tradition that continues at Barryland today. The park's current Barry, a towering 7½-year-old male weighing around 80kg, is the largest and most decorated of its dogs. The Barry Foundation has 36 St Bernards in all, who live at a nearby kennel in Martigny. Some dogs spend whole summers up at the Great St Bernard Pass. But with the reopening of Barryland, 16 dogs from the Martigny kennel will crowd into a large van each morning and be driven across to the theme park, ready to play stars. New mission Head of the breeding programme Manuel Gaillard holds two St Bernard puppies at Barryland museum and theme park. PHOTO: AFP At Barryland, the giant dogs, with their dark-ringed eyes and fur covered in reddish-brown patches, run around in spacious, grassy parks, lounge in large indoor enclosures and submit to grooming, massages and treatments. For the reopening, the park presented two new puppies, Xcell and Xaver, who tumbled enthusiastically around their mother Lio, nudging her until she sat down to let them nurse. Nearby, dog handler Sahel Robette encouraged Tosca, an eight-year-old female, to climb onto a large weighing scale. 'Sixty-five kilos!' he exclaimed, as he began brushing her down, searching her fur for tics and inspecting her ears and nails. Once the heroes of the Swiss Alps, St Bernards today are doing heroic work in other settings, Mr Tornay said. With helicopters having taken over their rescue role, the St Bernard has found a new social mission, he told AFP. The foundation's dogs make hundreds of visits each year to hospitals, nursing homes and prisons, where they are used for therapy and social training, 'sharing a little bit of kindness', he said. The St Bernard is perfect for these missions, Ms Glassey-Roth said, as one of the dogs laid its giant head on her lap. 'It has a quiet force; it is calm and very social.' AFP

Sydney Morning Herald
27-06-2025
- Lifestyle
- Sydney Morning Herald
Bathrobes and special menus: Yes, that pooch in NYC probably is better off than you
This story is part of the June 28 edition of Good Weekend. See all 21 stories. Jetlagged and hungry on our first morning after arriving in New York City last year, we headed out early in search of breakfast. Taking a seat in a Manhattan cafe, my kids began whispering and pointing at the only other occupied table, where a young woman was hand-feeding pieces of sourdough to her dining companion. She spoke tenderly, as if on a date with a cherished lover, rather than the tan cavoodle sitting on the chair opposite. As a waiter brought a bowl of water for the dog and breakfast for us, my kids pondered how their grandparents' cattle dog, an affectionate black-and-tan kelpie called Digger, would restrain himself with the smell of bacon wafting through the air. Little did we know then just how revered canines are in this concrete jungle. Since then, I've seen a dog lick clean a bowl of hummus at a trendy West Village restaurant. I've watched waiters balancing piles of plates delicately step around a pair of St Bernards sprawled across the floor. I've seen a grey terrier strapped to a guy's back as he whizzed past on a bike, paws poking out like a newborn's tiny feet from a baby carrier. Here, four-legged models strut down footpaths as though they've just stepped out of a Fifth Avenue boutique. There was the golden retriever padding along snow-covered streets with purple Crocs on its paws. The German shepherd wearing a black tutu as he sat on guard beside a man sleeping on the street on a frigid winter's morning. The two tiny terriers wearing matching sunglasses. Dogs are everywhere in New York City – in handbags, prams, shops, hairdressing salons and bars. This metropolis of 8.4 million people is also home to an estimated 600,000 dogs. In Manhattan, where more than half of the apartments are studios or one-bedrooms, it feels like you see more canines than kids, more fenced dog parks than slides and swings. Bowls of dog treats sit on coffee shop counters beside the sugar, and there's a museum dedicated to artwork celebrating man's best friend. They're even in the skies. During a recent flight, a dog in a carry bag, one row in front of me, yapped almost constantly from take-off to landing six hours later. Only one fellow passenger seemed mildly annoyed. I've encountered more animosity when flying with a crying baby. Disclaimer: I'm a dog lover. I'm also a farm girl who grew up in country NSW with cattle dogs who were fed dinner scraps and canned dog food, slept outside, and their grooming routine consisted of a swim in the dam. For my parents' current dog, Digger, a sausage from the Sunday barbecue is what passes as a treat. Only when there's a storm, or when winter nights are especially chilly, does he come inside to warm up in front of the fire. He'll bravely stand his ground in front of an 800-kilogram bull, but Digger is petrified of thunder. Our dogs have always been much-loved family members but they have little in common with my canine neighbours, who catch the lift in our building, and those in New York where you need to step around yellow puddles on the pavement. To get a better sense of how the city's relationship with dogs has evolved over the years, I headed to the New York Historical Society, to check out the Pets and the City exhibition. It charts a radical revolution in how dogs went from being feared, disease-carrying animals to the elevated standing they now enjoy. The exhibit describes how in the 19th century, dogs – along with pigs and cows – roamed the streets of New York, eating scraps, until a cholera epidemic hit in the late 1840s, prompting the city to offer bounties for stray dogs. This, along with fear of rabies, led to dog killers, then dog catchers, plucking canines off the streets. Flash forward to today and there are cafes with special menus for dogs, where you can host a birthday party for your furry friend, and the New York City Council is considering legislation that will allow people to use their paid sick leave to take care of sick pets. Daycare centres are spread across the city so that owners don't need to leave their dogs home alone. Walking up the stairs to the second floor of a building on Manhattan's Upper West Side, you hear the barking before you reach the front counter of Dog Days of NY. As light streams through windows overlooking Broadway on a recent Thursday afternoon, about 30 dogs are playing, from a fluffy white samoyed to golden retrievers, an Australian shepherd and a pint-sized havapoo. As we chat over the barking, Dean Vogel, one of the owners, tells me there are no restrictions on the size of dogs who can come here but they first undergo a temperament assessment. Staff take the dogs for a walk (and bathroom break) morning and afternoon, but there are two buckets with mops in the room, just in case. 'We have accidents all day,' Vogel says. Most of the dogs have done obedience training, but there have been occasions when Vogel has had to tell an owner that it's just not working out (a conversation that must be akin to that dreaded phone call from childcare after your toddler bites another kid). Some dogs come five days a week. 'They have owners who are doctors or lawyers, who are working every day,' says Vogel, a 62-year-old former publishing executive who opened the centre in 2011 with other local pet owners. 'I think for a lot of people, it would not be possible to have a dog in the city if they didn't have daycare.' Loading Like Australia, New York saw a boom in 'pandemic puppies'. Now that more companies are asking people to return to the office, Vogel says there's been more demand for daycare. 'We get a lot of dogs who have separation anxiety,' he says, 'and some are high-energy puppies who need a lot of interaction with people and other dogs.' The centre charges $US75 ($115) a day, or $US60 for members. When he introduces me to his dog, Daphne, I come face to face with a 54-kilogram French mastiff, whose front paws are as high as my shoulders when she rears up on her back legs. Vogel says when he got his first dog, another French mastiff named Daisy, he gained entry to a new community in a city that can be quite isolating. 'I live alone; I tell people I could die in my apartment and be there for a week if not for the fact I have a dog,' says Vogel, who has got to know countless local dog owners. 'If they don't see me every day, they would be the first to check what's going on. That's a really nice thing.' He says while outsiders often assume New York is not suitable for dogs, there are actually plenty of opportunities for them to socialise, such as in places like Central Park, where they can roam off-leash during certain hours. 'A lot of dogs have weekend houses,' he says, meaning their owners have properties outside the city. 'They have the perfect balance. They come back to the city, they see their friends.' One upmarket hotel advertises 'Ruff Service' with a menu crafted by the executive chef. But Vogel likes to remind owners that their dogs' needs differ from their own. All the pampering people think they would like for themselves isn't what dogs want, he says. 'They're not really interested in getting a pedicure.' For those who do like to indulge their pets, there's no shortage of options. Some of the city's most iconic hotels don't just allow dogs to stay – they offer services to ensure their trip to the Big Apple is one to remember. At The Plaza Hotel, dogs of all sizes can live it up, just like Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone 2. The hotel provides 'scrumptious macarons and [a] refreshing bowl of Evian' and matching bathrobes for dogs and their owners as part of its 'Pampered Pup Package'. Prices start at $US1200 per night (including the room). Meanwhile, The Four Seasons Hotel New York Downtown advertises 'Ruff Service', which features a menu crafted by the executive chef – and includes a choice of protein, vegetables, rice, house-made peanut-butter cookies and, again, macarons. In a city where almost every outing means walking past people sleeping on the streets, and where people ride the subway throughout the night to escape the cold, the reverence shown to dogs is perhaps one of the most glaring illustrations of the vast gulf between the well-off and those struggling to get by. The case of Rosie, a mini goldendoodle who went missing in Central Park in 2023, demonstrates the lengths some New Yorkers will go to for their dogs, and the empathy they can invoke in a city often derided as cut-throat. After a pet-sitter lost Rosie, her owner didn't just stick up a few flyers, she launched an intensive search effort, offering a $US6000 reward, enlisting volunteers, and setting up a website to report possible sightings. Then a GoFundMe page raised $US20,000 to help pay for a dog tracker, who came 'highly recommended and can employ advanced techniques to track down Rosie'. The page, set up by a friend, said the owner had had to 'take time off work to focus on finding Rosie, and the mounting expenses are becoming overwhelming'. Loading The love many New Yorkers have for their dogs is undeniable. And admiring the countless dogs we see daily has been an unexpected joy of life here, opening the door to conversations with people we'd never normally meet. But we'll be waiting until we move back home before getting our own. For now, we'll make do with patting Ginger, the cavoodle who lives down the street, and visiting Digger the kelpie when we head back to the farm. Digger will never play in a park specially designed for him, never taste a morsel of chef-prepared food or don a bathrobe, never board a plane or be immortalised in the hallowed halls of a museum. But somehow, I think he's happy jumping in muddy dams, barking at sparrows and woofing down sausages that little hands feed him under the table.