Dachshunds!

'Une doxie a Paris'

Dachshunds came from all over to worship the great Dox Idol. 

Dachshund Hammett had a San Francisco based Pet Detective Agency. This picture shows him in Chinatown tailing the philandering husband of the drop dead gorgeous French Poodle that hired him. 

'Bavarian Dachshund' 

Did you know the dachshund breed originates in the Bavarian Alps where they are specially bred to hold large quantities of beer? Mini lederhosen are tailored to each dog with their family crest sewn into the pocket.

'The Dachshund of Liberty' 

'Western Dachshund' 

'Explorer Dachshund' 

'Hockney's Dachshund' 

'Picasso's Dachshund' 

'Dachsosaur' 

The prehistoric dachshund! Did you know dachshunds evolved from fearsome, giant creatures into the lovable dox we know today.

'Red' 

'Venice Beach Dachshund' 

 'Longhair Dachshund' 

'Pigeon' 

 'The Dachshund of Nob Hill' 

'Polynesian Dachshund' 

San Francisco Noir

SF based illustrator Ben Walker and I went on a themed sketch-crawl over the July 4th holiday. Inspired by a recent article in the NY Times on Dashiel Hammett's connection to the city.

We trailed Hammett all over San Francisco. We started at 891 Post St where  Sam Spade's detective agency was based in the Tenderloin. Then on to Burritt Alley to see the site where Spade's partner was killed. A plaque marks “On approximately this spot, Miles Archer, Sam Spade’s partner, was done in by Brigid O’Shaughnessy.”

 This is a view from Dashiel Emmett alley

With still no sign of Hammett we broke for lunch at Lori's Diner, on Powell to compare notes.  We gum-shoed it down to the Flood Building on Market Street, where Hammett was employed as a private dick for the Pinkerton's.

Near Union Sq. we bribed the doorman of a downtown hotel where Hammett was known to stay. There's even a suite named after him. . . 

Around the corner is Hammett's favorite hang-out, John's Bar & Grill. Still in business as a restaurant and now the HQ of the Hammett Society. The author is said to have written much of 'The Maltese Falcon' at a booth here.

We went inside and smooth-talked the dame on the front desk. She let us go upstairs and find the famous falcon itself.

Pinkerton's were on to us so we high tailed it through the Stockton Tunnel and laid low in North Beach. We had a tip-off that Hammett liked to drink at Tosca cafe but we lost him in the crowd. We sat outside a cafe and observed the wild-life on Broadway.

He was elusive, kept to the shadows but we're gumshoes and we'll find him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon ...