Every Shelf Needs a Loyal Companion (or Two)

There’s something about a porcelain animal that always feels like it’s keeping a little secret. I found this particular pair of pups — stoic, slightly bug-eyed, and adorably mismatched — at a flea market upstate. The vendor told me they were Staffordshire knockoffs, but I swear they’ve got more presence than most things in my living room.

They reminded me instantly of my grandmother’s mantle — she kept a nearly identical pair, positioned just so, like loyal little sentinels. “They guard the house,” she’d tell me, as she tapped their heads for luck on her way out the door. As a child, I was convinced they were enchanted.

When I brought these home, I placed them exactly as she used to: one facing the door, one looking in. Balance, she’d say. A mix of watchfulness and warmth.

They’ve survived a few moves, a curious grandchild, and one precarious shelf collapse (we won’t talk about that). But they’re still standing — quietly, confidently — and I like to think they’re still doing their job.

And if nothing else, they make me smile every time I walk by.