A Tribute to Belle: The Best Studio Dog
- Jill Boualaxai
- Aug 13
- 4 min read
Updated: Aug 22
Last week, I said goodbye to my beautiful Belle — my wonderful four-legged friend and constant studio companion. Belle was the most sociable soul, and she filled every space we were in with her warmth, humour, and curiosity.
She was more than a pet; she was part of the rhythm of my days. I’ll miss the sound of her paws on the floor, her enthusiastic greetings to students, her thorough bag inspections (in case they held any snacks for her), and how she quietly observed everyone and everything in the studio.
Belle liked to and had her own way of collaborating with students on their work. In the middle of a class or during a group crit, she’d wander across any drawings laid out on the floor, inspecting which were her favourites and adding her own contribution of paw prints — a bit of unexpected mark-making, like she was quietly joining in on the work.
Many of you will have also drawn Belle — at Sunday Life Drawing Club, in tutored life classes, or at our monthly life session at The Safari Lounge. She’d usually sprawl out next to whoever was posing, always out-modelling the model. More than once, someone ignored the human model entirely and drew Belle instead. It wasn’t unusual — she was drawn regularly, and I have countless sketches of her from these sessions. She was surprisingly still, and very much an extra model in the room.
The Safari Lounge was also her local, and we spent a lot of time there. Belle was well known and loved — often allowed off-leash to roam freely if the bar was quiet. She appointed herself the pub’s floor-debris cleaner, a job she took very seriously, all while making friends with the locals and staff.
She adored people and had many different social groups and friends. Belle joined the Hidden Door team in 2019 and was much loved within this community, earning the titles of “Hidden Door Mascot” and “Chief Glove Stealer.” The latter came after she stole — and ate — around 40 site gloves during the 2021 festival set-up. It was pure mischief, It wasn’t just random theft either — she had a system, usually targeting the same side so we’d end up with a pile of lonely lefts (or rights). In winter, she extended her glove-stealing spree to Look and Draw classes — if you went to pet her wearing gloves, she’d whip one off in a flash and trot away looking very pleased with herself. Retrieving it often took some negotiating… and even then, she didn’t always give it back as it was found.
Belle had a busy life. Some days she was in the Newhaven studio with me for classes, watching everyone as they worked from her prime spot on the sofa — her bed, and by my rule, off-limits to anyone else. Other days she’d be at Edinburgh Sculpture Workshop for a making day, settled under my desk, keeping one eye on me and waiting for a visit to Milk Café for a well-earned liver cake.
And then there were the out-and-about days — Hidden Door site visits, installing work, or sketching outdoors — where she was just as much a part of the action as I was. She even had her own hi-viz vest and lanyard, making her look very official (and very pleased with herself) on site days.
On her days off, Belle loved walks and specifically she loved trips to the beach — collecting sticks, chasing balls, and splashing in and out of the sea. Watching her in that environment, with her ears flying in the wind always filled me with pure joy.
As an artist, I spend a lot of time alone in the studio. Belle’s presence meant I was never truly by myself. She was there when I worked long hours on projects sometimes late into the night as a quiet, grounding presence beside me, keeping me company with her soft snores and little dream-twitches.
I like to think Belle and I were quite alike — we both loved being around people, thrived on a bit of fun, and could keep going for hours when something exciting was happening. We enjoyed a good party, had plenty of energy when we needed it, but were equally happy to claim a sofa and lounge for hours when the mood took us.
In my own art practice I’ve been exploring animal mythologies and I’m sure Belle will sneak into my work — maybe as a mythological beast who ate gloves, loved to draw, and could out-model anyone in the room. A legend in her own right, woven into future stories and drawings.
Belle wasn’t just “the studio dog.” She was a model, a collaborator, a mischief-maker, and my friend. I will always try and be more like Belle — curious, playful, open-hearted, and unafraid to take up space.
Thank you to everyone who’s sent kind words and support over the past couple of months while she went through treatment — it’s meant a lot.
Here’s to Belle. Always loved and remembered x
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A dog with a five star life that had a five star impact on those who met her!
Aw... Jill, that's lovely; I'm in tears. I was privileged to hear her wee snores during my last night of VizFest, sleeping beside her. I was glad to have met her and to have managed to nick her stick once or twice xxx