Katharine folded one thousand paper cranes for this.

Not one hundred. Not several carefully arranged strands supplemented with a little photographic sleight of hand. One thousand individual cranes—folded, strung and transported to Salem so Kitty could travel to 1958 Japan without leaving Oregon.

By now, I should know better than to underestimate what Katharine will do for the Floofy Newfie World Tour. Holland involved wooden shoes, Delft blue, a windmill and a bonnet. Japan arrived with a handwritten dispatch, a hand-quilled card, an elaborate kimono, a formidable obi, traditional shoes, a much-discussed kanzashi flower—and enough origami cranes to make me seriously reconsider the limits of her commitment to this project.

My job was merely to photograph it all as though this were perfectly normal.

Which, somewhere along the way, it apparently became.

And Then She Brought Them to Salem

I knew Katharine was folding cranes. She had mentioned it more than once, and I understood perfectly well that the final number would be one thousand.

Apparently, understanding a number and seeing one thousand hand-folded cranes arrive at your studio are two entirely different things.

Each crane had been folded from patterned paper, threaded into long strands and transported with extraordinary care. Once they were hanging together, the studio disappeared behind a bright, fluttering canopy of color.

It was magnificent.

It was also the moment I realized that Katharine was not merely planning costumes and props for a series of photographs. She was building an entire world for Kitty to step into.

Kitty took one look at the results, stretched out beneath the cranes and behaved as though having an entire corner of 1958 Japan constructed around her was exactly what she had expected.

Naturally.

The Obi Was Not Fooling Around

Then there was the kimono.

I knew it would be beautiful. I did not understand that getting into it would involve quite so much wrapping, layering, tucking, tying and negotiating with fabric.

The obi—that wide sash around Katharine’s waist—was especially determined to make certain no one mistook this for simply putting on a dress. By the time the kimono was properly arranged and the traditional shoes were on, I had developed an entirely new appreciation for the skill required to look that elegant.

Kitty’s preparations were considerably easier.

She received a beautiful kanzashi flower, accepted the admiration due her and settled comfortably into her role as the best-dressed Newfoundland in Japan.

According to Ooset’s later report, Kitty mentioned the flower often.

Very often.

Japan, by Way of Oregon

Once we had successfully transported Kitty to 1958 Japan inside the studio, we packed up the parasol, map, flags, cranes and one beautifully dressed Newfoundland and headed for the bamboo forest.

The first attempt was rained out.

Because apparently one thousand hand-folded cranes, an elaborate kimono and a dog willing to wear a kanzashi flower were not enough to guarantee cooperation from Oregon in June.

We returned a few days later and found exactly what Katharine had described in her letter: towering bamboo, quiet green paths and little pockets that felt far removed from the busy world outside.

For a few hours, an Oregon garden became Japan.

Katharine carried the parasol and looked entirely delighted with the adventure. Kitty carried the responsibility of looking magnificent—until she decided the expedition required a brief lie-down.

I followed behind with my camera, documenting the journey while trying not to think too hard about what would happen if anyone dropped the map.

They dropped the map.

Well—not literally. But it proved spectacularly unhelpful.

The Map Was No Help Whatsoever

Katharine consulted the map.

Stephen attempted to determine which direction it should be facing.

Kitty disappeared behind it entirely.

Routes were traced, landmarks were sought and the map was turned several times—each direction apparently less useful than the last. At some point, it became less a navigational aid and more an extremely large paper curtain concealing one increasingly skeptical Newfoundland.

Eventually, Kitty emerged, Stephen lowered the map and the expedition continued using the time-honored travel method of pointing confidently and hoping for the best.

I’m fairly certain Kitty knew where she was going all along.

Meanwhile, Ooset Took Over the Family Correspondence

Judging by the photograph enclosed with her report, Ooset had already seen quite enough—and still had several things to say.

Dispatch Kyoto, Japan July 7, 1958

Dear Terri,

I have wrested the narrative from mama while she goes out to hunt down a secret supplier of beef flavored dog biscuits. There’s only one and after a week of fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner we are ready for a change!

We arrived in Kyoto yesterday. After a week in Tokyo I think I am getting used to Japan. Everyone is so kind. When you come in they smile and bow. When they show you the way, they smile and bow. When you get on the elevator, they smile and bow. The smiling and bowing have become second nature and even Kitty and Re and I have started to nod their head when meet new people. I promise, it’s involuntary. Try it, have someone smile and bow in your direction and see if you can stop yourself from returning it.

The hotel in Tokyo was just like a hotel anywhere with beds and a television and a phone on a table. But the place we are staying now is an inn, and it is completely different. Of course we know all about taking off the shoes, but now there are new shoes to be putting on. There’s the indoor slipper shoes for walking around on the wooden floors, And then a big surprise, we now have the toilet shoes. You wear them only for the bathroom and they are kept separate. Of course that is only for the humans we dogs just wear our feet wherever we go.

There was a big kerfuffle when we arrived at the inn. Of course our travel agent had told them dogs would be arriving as part of the party, but they were not calibrated to Newfoundland size dogs. We stepped out of the cab and were met with smiling and bowing and halfway through the bowing stopped dead as first Re and then Kitty and then I hit the pavement. Then we were hustled off to see a beautiful little courtyard garden and tea and refreshments were brought to us, whilst we watched the entire staff of the inn flying all about with little pillows, big pillows, much bigger pillows - and each time they passed they would peer into the garden and eyebrows went up and whispering ensued and eventually we were all shown to our room amidst much more relaxed smiling and bowing to find that three lovely futons had been laid out next to the bed for mama and daddy.

We are also getting used to everyone asking for our photograph. We cannot go to see the parks or the monuments or the museums without a little line of families asking if they might have me stand next to grandma or the baby, or pose us next to the ferocious marble lions they call ‘dogs' that guard the gates of important buildings. They do look a little bit like Re when he’s crunching an extra crispy biscuit.

Tomorrow we go see a concert and dance performance. There are lots more people wearing kimono here and Kitty is lording over the rest of us that she has been to a tea ceremony and so knows all about getting dressed up. Shall we never hear the end of her Kanzashi flower ornament!?

Sending you big Newfie kisses, Smile and Bow, Ooset

The Tour Was About to Take a Turn

Japan began with one thousand paper cranes and ended with Ooset filing her own report from Kyoto.

By then, the Floofy Newfie World Tour had become far more than a series of photographs. There were handwritten dispatches, handmade works of art, elaborate costumes, increasingly opinionated travelers—and stories beginning to unfold beyond anything we had planned.

You can see Kitty’s complete journey through 1958 Japan in the official dispatch, or return to the beginning and follow the Floofy Newfie World Tour from its very first stop.

Visit Japan

Follow the World Tour

I thought I knew where the travelers were headed next.

I did not.

Provence was waiting—with lavender fields, a young artist known as Antonio and a love story none of us saw coming.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Until the next dispatch, I’ll be behind the camera—following the floof and watching the story unfold, one wonderfully unexpected adventure at a time.

Terri
Official Pupparazzi
The Floofy Newfie World Tour

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Folding a Thousand Cranes for the Floofy Newfie World Tour

And Then She Brought Them to Salem

The Obi Was Not Fooling Around

Japan, by Way of Oregon

The Map Was No Help Whatsoever

Meanwhile, Ooset Took Over the Family Correspondence

The Tour Was About to Take a Turn

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