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The legend has echoed over the hills of Scotland for many years. The tall, thin man with silver hair — so distinguished, so cultivated, so in tune with the natural world — roamed the landscape from highlands, to moors, through glens and forests -treading the peat soil -looking for his latest subject. Dog man was on a journey to paint the portraits of dogs everywhere.

His legend came about one stormy night on the summit of a highland hill where Dog Man slipped on an precarious ledge hitting his head and falling unconscious. He would have never walked the cloudy paths again had it not been for a group of friendly dogs that brought him a tiny vial of Scotch to revive him.

    When he woke from his stupor, he was renewed with purpose. To pay his debt to his canine hero’s he would honor the breeds by painting their portraits for all of prosperity.

    These are just a few of the images, which represent Dogman’s acquaintances, and the stories of the doggie diaries.

I want to be a Cowgirl

I want to be a Bird Dog

Tres chic French bulldog, Tulip, named for the mysterious tulip she wore everyday between her ears, had a rich fantasy life. While all the other little French chiens sipped Evian, she would search the pantry for even a trace of tequila. Tulip wanted to be a cowgirl. She had grit. She could break horses, or at least bite their legs with her beautifully brushed teeth. (That slowed them down.) She liked lassos and cowboy hats and yearned to take her place as the Yellow Rose of Texas.

One fateful day Buffalo Bills Wild West show came to Paris. She slipped out of her Hermes leash, ran under a tent and watched, panting, as the troupe entertained. She knew that later that night there would be a grand soire for the cowboys. She couldn’t wait any longer, keeping her true identity a secret. She must break away to her future — performing in the Wild West show. Abruptly she jumped from her Chanel dog bed over the dining table filled with fruits and flowers and leapt to her life in entertainment.

It’s not easy being a standard poodle girl in New Mexico. All those howling coyotes real and other wise, the hunting dogs the big barreling mutts. What’s a well-groomed girl to do? Besides, deep down, Zelda knew that her real identity was not that of show dog with pom poms but as a noble bird dog running the range bringing down birds. She began to hunt birds in her owner’s back yard. She’d sniff them and sneak up on them, run after them, or corner them near the shed. She began to understand the way of the bird and the possibility of her becoming Great Poodle Bird Dog Hunter. She even went so far as to commune with the enemy by wearing a feathered eagle headdress disguise and hanging with some peacocks.

Brains can be a burden. Paco knew this all to well. He was studying for his medical exam since his destiny was to become a brilliant veterinarian. This lofty goal was not a selfish one. Paco wanted the world to know how smart, sophisticated and educated pit bills can be. He wanted the tarnished reputation erased. He wished his breed to take their rightful place as equals to the greatest surgeons everywhere. He began his quest in the Boston library surrounded by the brightest medical students anywhere.

With his top hat and perfect grooming he knew they would never suspect his upbringing in the ghettos of Mexico City. He was not violent. He had not participated in dogfights. But so many of his friends had succumbed to the easy money and rock star status the fights brought. But not Paco. When he and Dog Man met there was instant chemistry and Paco became Dog Man’s trusted assistant seeing to the health of the dogs whose portraits would be painted. The only downside to their relationship, Dog man said, was the fact that Paco snored.

Smarter than your average dog

Rooms for Rent

Giorgio was a Corgi with class. He was not content to just sit at home whiling away the hours surrounded by the strains of Italian opera, sleeping on Gianni Versace sheets. He was industrious and although quite short, felt his future lay in retail. So Giorgio opened a little boarding house for his Italian bros- with a gift shop known throughout Italy as the place to go for toys, Limon cello and Giorgio’s famous donuts, made of course without meat by-products.

Pumpkin Patch

Heidi is sweet on the outside and very taboo on the inside, and she doesn’t care who knows it. Yes she takes a nip here and there, but isn’t alcohol good for the soul? She saw what it did for her master. Her golden brown hair is naturally curly unlike other bitches and her big brown eyes are said to be soulful. But Heidi just can’t get a break. She tries to get noticed. She stared in the adult film classic. “Lassie did it”, as well as “Doggie does Dallas”. But she told everyone she was a boy. Go figure! Why couldn’t Heidi get the attention of the right agents?

Then one day her stylist came up with a great idea. Why not sneak into the home of J.J. Abrams who produced "Lost," "Alias" and "Star Trek" and become one with the Thanksgiving decorations. Posed at the center of the table along with pumpkins and squash would certainly impress the famed producer and Heidi would be signed for a pilot on the spot.

It was a great plan but Heidi was leaving nothing to chance. For the month of October she practiced in the pumpkin patch making sure to get her pose just right. She experimented with fabrics and took note of which vegetables made her fur look best. She was glad that when she had her colors done she was an autumn.

Give me pearls

Forget the sheep lets play golf

Fadden knew there was another dog inside screaming to get out. He wasn’t like all the other little dogs in the neighborhood. He was special. He loved Marilyn Monroe, Jackie-O and her pillbox hats; fresh flowers, pearls and of course oysters.

He made sure he made it to the groomer at least once a week to have his flowing hair blown out and would never dream of going without a manicure for even a day.

But Fadden had a secret. He was really Miss Phaedra, the cross-dressing dog!

Miss Phaedra’s life had been hard. Born poor white trash in a town so small you’d miss it on the highway if you blinked, she had always aspired to the top of the social heap. She looked at the fashion photos in Dogue magazine and in television shows such as "Housedogs of Beverly Hills." She knew she could move up and so with a wink and a squeeze she did. There was only one place for Miss Phaedra, and that was New York.

From her home in the Dakota she reveled in her guilty pleasures. She loved musicals, the cheesier the better. She often dressed as her favorite female character. But what she loved most of all was "Glee." Every week she would pose before the big-screen television with plenty of room to dance and follow along with the production numbers, loving every one of the cast of misfits.

Miss Phaedra’s neighbor Yoko Ono was not amused. Miss Phaedra turned the volume up on "Glee" so high it drowned out the continual loop of John Lennon’s song “baby its you” blaring from behind Yoko’s front door.

Shadow knows she’s pretty. And smart. The "whole package" the other country club girls say. But she is also athletic and a primo fetcher in the game of golf. Sometimes she is driven to out wit her master, getting him to leave his work and hit a few balls for her to go after. She feels guilty that she must trick him into getting out and about, but knows it is really good for him,

Shadow’s mother once told her she had coyote blood and that she should be very proud. Shadow knows that it is from this blood that she gets her trickster spirit and wily ways. From her home in Angus County, Scotland known for their lack of beef, she often travels to St. Andrews to fetch for the golf greats. Her favorite star is not the fickle Tiger, but rather the Golden Bear who she has been seen spending time with on the putting green.

Life is a bowl of cherries

Zoe just wants to have fun. She’s proud of her reputation as a par-tay animal. She loves Lady GaGa and Gwen Stefanni. She likes to get down and get out. Unfortunately, that is not always possible because Zoe suffers from depression. She wasn’t always this way. Things just started getting more difficult when she put on the weight. When it was time for her to come out as a debutante, she couldn’t go to the ball. She just couldn’t squeeze her jowls into the dress. She finally settled for a fetching hat covered with cherries, made it to the dance but sat on the sidelines all night.

"Life is a bowl of cherries," she thought to cheer herself up. As life would have it the very next day, she was signed by Wilhelmina as a plus side model with an assignment for the cover of "Vanity Fur. " Life is a bowl of cherries

A real pirate has got to have a parrot, which is why Frankie’s owners adopted Polly. A wild bird with a penchant for playing cards, Polly thought Frankie was the bomb. She would do anything she could to make him happy. This was not as easy as it seems. Frankie had a fantasy -- a fantasy big as the ocean. He wanted to be an international merchant and sail the seven seas. Horrified by the idea of Frankie going to sea, his owners did everything they could to feed Frankie’s fantasy from his Boston home. They even bought him a peg leg chew toy and some spitting tobacco. But Frankie would not be discouraged. He practiced getting his sea legs, treading the top of chairs and talking pirate -- arg instead of arf. When he wasn’t working on his pirate swagger he would watch reruns of “Gilligan’s Island and gaze at the goings on in Boston harbor from his penthouse window. Polly would pull the curtains every day so Frankie could see out. Sometimes she would hover just above his shoulder and toss Frankie a cracker saying “doggie want a cracker” as if they were really at sea.

Doggie wanna cracker

California is a big state and it takes a big dog to represent her. El Capitan had traveled the state from Death Valley to Yosemite and finally to Sequoia National Park where he met the famed naturalist John Muir. Muir could see El Capitan’s pedigree and his love of the natural world. When he saw how El as he was known in the region, would often rescue squirrels from other hunters or help a deer escape a predator, he asked El to become his companion. The two would walk the forested trails of northern California, Muir reading from his journals that would later become essays and books on the great Sierra Madres. El Capitan was always at his side and tried to encourage him with his writings. When Muir started the Sierra Club, El Capitan was the first member. And although Muir was known as the "father of the national parks," El Capitan thought of him as a father, too.

When he later broke into the film industry and began making action films like "El Capitan and the Bandit" (where he did his own stunts) he dedicated his performances and proceeds to the Sierra Club in honor of Muir.

El Capitan

Monet went directly from his home in Paris to Hollywood. It could make a dog’s head spin. He was snuffling through fields of mushrooms and lavender in Provence. Running with his friends through vineyards of ripe grapes, fields of goats and cows and resting in olive groves. And then he moved to Paris, which to Monet was amour. It was the women. Monet always had a weak spot for a wag of the tail, a glimpse of a glittery collar or the baring of brilliantly white teeth.

But it was less than a week, when he was crated and drugged and sent to Hollywood left at the doorstep of the very famous actor, Charlie Sheen.

Mon Dieu. There where lots of girls at Charlie’s house, some even smelled like beef. He liked the late nights and the goodies the girls fed him when no one was looking. There were other dogs that visited such as Tinkerbelle Hilton who only slept on Chewy Vuiton beds and the movie star Bruiser who appeared in the Legally Blonde movies. But Monet grew bored. He ached for a table filled with freshly baked brioche, aged cheese from the finest dairies- and a succulent grape or two. He had to leave Charlie’s house, even though Sheen assured him he too had tiger blood. But no. Monet knew that was not his calling. He went off on his own to open a little bistro where the finer things in life were featured every day.

Wine and cheese please

It’s Boston baby! Poshie is a posh pooch. No question. Dressed only in the latest doggie daywear, she loves to lunch with friend and author "Splash" who was one of Ted Kennedy’s dogs. Splash wrote the best selling, "My Senator and Me" and Poshie always hoped he would write a book about her. She knew that Splash wanted more from their relationship but he was a Portuguese water dog and half the time she couldn’t understand what he was saying. She did confide in him her desire to be a wild boar hunter. She was so tired of the social scene, the meaningless days, the lonely nights. What she wanted was a romp in the fields chasing the boars to ground, the smell of fresh manure wafting past her nose. All she could do now was get out for the blueblood hunt cycle. A bore, to the Posh she wanted real boar. When Splash couldn’t grasp the freedom concept -- perhaps too much time at the Kennedy compound -- Poshie couldn’t stand it another moment and broke out from the little window in her bedroom bringing with her some wild hog bait her powder horn and hunting leash she had secretly hidden away for months. It was a new day for little Poshie.

Boston Bustin’ Out

Heidi, Aka Miss Cherry was never the same after she filmed the pilot for her new reality show, "Gone to the Dogs." She was immediately selected as one of four glamour dogs in the series that lived and loved at the Fur Seasons in New York City. Of course, the hotel provided their food, linen change and trainers for exercise and basic nutritional advice. With the filming on the first season underway, Heidi assumed the showbiz name Cherry. She felt it best described her sweet although sometimes tart behavior.

The first show aired on Cherry’s birthday so the cast threw a party for her that night at the elegant La Grenouille on East 52nd Street. All her dog and human pals were there, quietly nibbling on bone-shaped cake, sausages and Beggin’ Strips. The waiters kept their water dishes filled with pink champagne and before she knew it she was up on the table juggling one of Grenouille’s famous flower arrangements. It didn’t take long for the cameras to come out and Heidi/Cherry knew her party antics would be in the next episode. She was glad she had her hair done that morning. She thought she looked good and with the juggling, wondering to herself how long would it be before a movie was in the offing?

It’s my birthday let’s party!

Jessie, sometimes known as Jose was high up in the Cuban government. He loved the accoutrement of public office and was loyal to his owner, Fidel Castro. Because of his Labrador blood, Castro put Jessie in charge of fetching cigars. Many late nights on Fidel’s back patio with revolutionaries like Che holding forth with tales of Cuba Libre! Jessie would be sent to get the Havana’s. He delivered the best from the cigar factories on a tiny tray lined in black velvet to bring out the luster of the dried tobacco leaves. One of the bennies of Jessie’s job was that Fidel paid for his education.

At Doggie Day Care, Jessie learned which fork to use, how to wash his paws in a finger bowl before dinner and how to light a cigar. He learned the difference between fine wine and rot gut and how to howl at the moon when the boys broke into one of their Cuban rumbas.

His howling brought him to the attention of Ry Cooder who had recorded with the Buena Vista Social Club. He thought Jessie might be good on an album. Jessie demurred. He had learned it was not a good idea to get Fidel’s goat so to speak, so he stayed put on Fidel’s back patio, sleeping on carpets woven with golden threads amid the loot from revolutions past. Instead of a howling career, he substituted the brush for his fork technique and took up painting.

Cigar Dog

It all began with Peaches' mother, the dancing Apricot poodle who caught the eye of rock star Elton John. "Tiny Dancer" was a hit in Paris dancehalls. A headliner at the Moulin Rouge and even danced on the bar at the famed Crazy Horse. She was thin and beautiful with big brown eyes and the grace of a thousand Afghan hounds. She was a headliner until a wild night spent with a Schnauzer visiting from Berlin ended her dancing career. It was what seemed like only a few months when she gave birth to the half-breed Peaches --half poodle, half schnauzer -- a Schnoodle with attitude.

Little Peaches had her mother's happy feet and began dancing before she could bark. She danced in circles, up and down the Rue de Rivoli and while shopping in the Marais. She was a quick study, because she inherited brains, discipline, drive and her unusual dark eyes from her father Wolfgang.  She began to hang with Elton and his posse and began to meet other artsy dogs. Her trademark was her winding strand of pearls. Peaches had learned from her mother that pearls could mask a world of indiscretion. She became known as the pearl girl. Then added a modest tiara in hopes that Carla Bruni would be impressed and agree to collaborate with her. She hoped a music video with the first lady was in her future.

Peaches

Scottie was named for F. Scott Fitzgerald and short of fountain jumping; he had to agree the two had a lot in common. There was nothing Scottie liked more than going out on the town. And he cut quite the figure if he did say so himself. With his top hat set at a jaunty angle on his enormous head he would wait for his limo to pull around while admiring his profile in rain puddles. His owner made sure there was always enough water for him to wash his face and slick back the ebony hairs that made up his distinguished kisser.

Ah the good life: caviar, champagne and a pedigree that went back to the royal dogs of England. But he had been a bit anxious of late, thinking of throwing it all in -- the art collection, the weekends at the country house, the premium dog food, for a simple life aboard a sailing yacht.

To feel the wind in his hairs, the excitement of 10-foot swells and the romance of putting in at a lovely little Bahamian island with nothing between him and the sky but the stars.

A few of the other dogs at the club suggested Scottie was having a mid-life crisis. But Scottie isn’t so sure. He doesn’t need limos or top hats to be happy. Just a big bowl of kibble and a little bit of love.

Out on the town

Dog Man