My life with the critters

Three Dog Night

2012-01-26T21:23:00.000-08:00

I stand outside in my pjs, shivering in the drizzling rain as I wait for Petey to find that elusive spot to do his business. He sniffs and spins and sniffs some more, then stumbles off to find a better biffy. Apparently, the sparsely grassed mudpuddle that I call a back yard contains very few canine toilets – finding an available spot to relieve himself is as much of a challenge for Petey as it is for a woman to find an available cubicle during intermission at the theatre.

Eddie: What's the matter with that spot, little buddy?
Petey: Eewwww! It smells wrong - it isn't the right spot AT ALL! Don't you
know nuthin'???

Waiting for Petey to find just he right spot is a ritual which occurs many times a day. I don't really mind when the sun is shining and the grass is dry, but in the pouring rain it becomes an issue. For one thing, Sadie and Eddie wouldn't think of letting Petey go outside alone, so every trip outside means twelve muddy paws to wipe. Times that by about ten trips in a twenty four hour period and that's - let's see - 120 muddy paws. No wonder I'm so tired.

But that's not the only - or even the main - reason I'm feeling tired these days. It's not the frequent trips outside with leaky old dogs that is the problem; it's the lack of sleep. And for that I am also blaming the dogs.

I don’t do well with a lack of sleep, especially if I am woken several times. Early bedtimes are not an option – Sadie has to be fed around 11:00 PM or she will be in a state of collapse when I get up in the morning.

Petey sleeps beside me on the bed – if I try to leave him in his basket or crate on the floor, he awakes just as I doze off and begins to wander about barking incessantly until I fetch him. Once snuggled tightly beside me on the bed, however, he sleeps like a log. Unfortunately, I am always concerned he MAY wake up and wander off the edge of the bed, breaking his scrawny little legs. So he may sleep like a log, but I sleep like the mama of a brand new baby – very lightly.

Sadie climbs up on the bed for a cuddle each night, but as soon as I turn off the light, she wants to climb down – which she has trouble doing in the dark. Light on, Sadie stays, light off, Sadie wants down. I have resorted to a nightlight to illuminate her steps without playing fast-and-loose with the lamp, but it interferes with my sleep. I like a completely dark room.

Whaaat? Ya expect me to break MY scrawny little legs? Old dogs can't see
very well in the dark, y'know!

But that’s not all. Because Sadie’s meds for insulinoma make her pee, Sadie needs out at least once in the night, usually around three AM. Sadie needing out means four things: I have to untangle and detach myself from the CPAP machine that keeps me breathing so my sleep apnea doesn’t snuff the life out of me; Eddie will also want out even though he doesn’t need it; Petey will have to be woken up since he can’t be left unattended on the bed lest he sense I am gone and try to find me (see earlier comment re breaking scrawny legs), and twelve muddy paws will need wiping. By the time all that has occurred, and I’ve climbed back into bed and reattached myself to my breathing machine, I’m wide awake, staring at the ceiling and the glowing red numbers of the digital clock.

While Petey would happily stay snuggled in bed with me until noon, Eddie is an early morning person. Regardless of how many times we are up in the night, his inner clock tells him when it is time to wake up the household and to order the chef to prepare breakfast. He bounces over to the side of my bed, and pogosticks up and down, up and down, all to the accompaniment of his squeaky debarked vocalizations.

Every dog needs a job, y'know! Mine is to make sure everyone
is up at the crack of dawn!

I drag my tired butt out of bed, wake up Petey, and traipse outside with all three dogs before the chef in me can even think of canine breakfasts, let alone prepare and consume any strong, hot coffee. It is six AM, and I have had perhaps four or five hours of broken sleep.

And once again I stand outside in my pjs, shivering in the drizzling rain as I wait for Petey to find that elusive spot to do his business.

Yeah, but ah'm worth waitin' for!

Photo essay: the week in review

2012-01-21T08:35:00.000-08:00

On Tuesday, while much of south west BC was digging out from under a ton of snow,
I was going to post a picture of our blue, sunny skies.......

and the flowers still blooming in my garden.......

And Eddie enjoying the half centimetre dusting of snow we did get.......

But my gloating got us all into trouble......

And the wind blew and the snow flew and the temperatures
dropped and dropped and dropped......
Brrrrrrrrrrrr!

In the end, we still only got about 4-6 inches, compared to as much as two feet elsewhere.......

Petey: H E L P!
Me: Suck it up, Petey.....it's not even up to your elbows!

Eddie LOVED the snow. I've concluded he is a malamute in sheltie clothing -
he would happily spend all day in the snow, and his favourite pasttime is making
doggy snow angels!

He even catches snowflakes on his tongue!

But last night the temperatures finally rose, the rains came pouring down, and today we are back to two inches of water and mud in the back yard. And life resumes in our soggy slice of paradise.

Fancy Dudes in Fancy Duds

2012-01-16T23:03:00.000-08:00

Eddie and Petey received a present today, courtesy of two members of the herding pawty gang. Deb sent Riley's and Ginger Snap's raincoats (Riley got a new one, and Ginger Snap passed away), and now the Wet Coast can be wet again. Of course, the day they arrive we get snow instead. So Petey thinks his parka might be more appropriate, though Eddie has a built-in parka and is very thankful for the cooler covering of a raincoat to keep his thick handsome fur from getting snowed on.

Eddie: Ah looks like a SUPERHERO!
Petey: Ah suppose this is better than yesterday's homeless old man look. Now ah'm
a well-dressed homeless old man.

Sadie recognized Riley's and Ginger's scents and was most curious:

What the heck? You don't look like mah pal Ginger Snap!

Petey also received a little sweater - a preppy boy sweater for which he needs a little private school tie. But I think it must have had girly germs on it, because soon-to-be-neutered Frisky Eddie decided he couldn't leave ~~her~~ him alone and kept trying to do things Petey didn't like. A fifty pound chunky monkey can soon flatten a ten pound little old man. Petey showed some spunk by finally growling and swearing at Eddie, which caused the not-so-brave-even-if-much-bigger boy to back off. And I removed the sweater to end further amorous overtures by His Royal Balls.

Eddie is now completely over his fear of the camera. I have been clicker-training him, and coincidentally discovered the clicker sounds almost identical to the click of my camera. So now, when I try to take photos of Eddie, this is what happens:

Eddie's nose.
"Hey, where's the treats?"

We'll be practising the "Sit/Wait" routine quite a bit, I do believe.

Petey's vet visit has been postponed until Friday. Sadie collapsed again this morning (my fault, as I went to bed early last night so she didn't get her 11:00 pm feeding), and wasn't stable enough by 8 AM for me to be comfortable either leaving her or taking her with me, espcially with snow in the forecast and a long drive ahead. I err of the side of caution. Perhaps we'll have better luck on Friday when the appointment is a little later in the morning, and the snow is supposed to have passed through.

Ah hope this snow doesn't get too deep. A little old blind dog
could get lost in just a few inches!

Oh, and more good news - Coco has found a home!

LONDON HAS BEEN FOUND!!!!!

2012-01-15T15:59:00.000-08:00

London is safe! I was out for the afternoon after doing a quick sweep of the area this morning, and I came home to the wonderful phone message that London was caught shortly after 1:00 this afternoon.

After 9 days on the run, and a week without a sighting, she returned to the very same property where she had previously been seen. Gary and Jill, from Chelco Farms (a border collie rescue), had placed a live trap there last week and the breeder had put toys and blankets smelling of London and her litter mates as well as a tasty dish of food. Sure enough, as lost dogs often do, she came back to that spot.

She did try to run again, but Gary and Jill's dog, Abby, brought her back in and the breeder, Judy, was also there with one of her dogs, so London made the wise choice to let herself be caught.

As the new owners are currently in Alberta (don't ask what I think of that), I expect London has gone back home with Judy.

Thank you to all who helped in this search, and especially to Gary, Jill and Judy. This girl got safely home because of your commitment.

Your message made my day! Heck, it made my whole month!

We need some balance here!

2012-01-14T22:44:00.000-08:00

With all the sad and bad news of the past few days, it's time for a little restful, happy, and even humourous interlude. I'm a firm believer that sanity and survival depend on keeping one's life in balance.

And so....while my friends in the Fraser Valley dig themselves out from many inches of snow.....here are some photos from my island paradise today:

Osborne Bay, with mill in background

No snow, just a bit of frost and some beautiful red seaweed!

Steady Eddie is getting over his fear of the camera!:

Hai! It's a beautiful morning!

This afternoon we headed back to Stocking Creek Park to search and put up more posters for London, and enjoyed a few minutes drinking in the beauty of the sun streaming down on this waterfall:

Waterfall in sunlight

Back at home, Allie enjoyed the sunshine too:

Allie

I was going through my email, and realized I'd never posted a photo I received a couple of months ago. Martin, the alpaca I found abandoned on my farm in the Fraser Valley, is clearly enjoying his life with his forever family. His pure joy made me laugh.

Martin and friends get the zoomies

But what made me laugh most of all was a shot I took of foster dog Petey - supposedly to show him enjoying the sunshine. I had pulled a sweater over his tee-shirt as the house was quite cold this morning, but it wasn't until I saw the photo on the computer that I realized he looked like a little old homeless man.

Oh....wait....he IS a little old homeless man.

Who stole mah shopping cart?

What're YOU lookin' at? Never seen a dog down on his luck?

Balance restored.

Willow needs a home

2012-01-14T10:36:00.000-08:00

The Cowichan and District SPCA is trying to find a palliative home (permanent foster or adoption) for Willow, a 12-14 year old super sweet cattle dog whose owners decided they no longer wanted her. Willow has a cancer on her front leg – it is not painful and is not bone cancer, but surgery is not an option so her time is limited. She is affectionate, sweet, a good girl in need of a place to live out her days.

Willow is deaf or somewhat deaf but attentive and tries hard to understand hand signals. She will be on pain meds for arthritic hips that were once fractured but now healed, and she has just started meds to correct a bit of incontinence. If you can offer her a soft place to rest, please contact the SPCA at 250-746-4646. How can you resist this face?

Some days, like today, I feel completely disheartened and can only question what kind of society we live in that treats its animals so poorly. Coco and Willow, both seniors whose owners dumped them; London and so many other dogs lost, often shortly after being rehomed; rescues and shelters inundated with old dogs, young dogs, dogs with pups, neglected dogs.

Broken Promises Rescue, for whom I am fostering Petey, is also looking for foster and adoptive homes – they have Looey, who is a lovely rotti recovering from surgery who needs a foster or adoptive home ASAP; and they have a purebred Westie whose owners couldn’t be bothered to deal with an untreated skin problem so dumped him, and a little chi with a heart murmer, and an American Cocker Spaniel with four wee pups – fosters or adoptive homes urgently needed.

And, of course, there is the steady stream of dogs and puppies needing help at Turtle Garden’s Rescue. In fact, there are nearly 150 rescue organizations and shelters in B.C. alone listed on Petfinder.com, others on adoptapet.com, some that don’t use either. Most only profile a small percentage of the animals they are dealing with. And, sadly (in my opinion), there are others importing dogs from elsewhere under the name of ‘rescue’ while we are unable to clean up the mess in our own back yard. Each of those dogs takes a space that might have gone to a dog already here.

I am only on the periphery of the rescue and shelter world – I help out a little here, a little there, and yet some days, like today, I find it emotionally overwhelming. I honestly don’t know how those right in the trenches – those dealing with the people who dump their old and faithful companions, those who see the state in which the animals arrive, who pick up the lost dogs whose owners never come looking for them, who investigate the cruelty cases – I honestly don’t know how those in the trenches do it. They have my greatest respect.

That said, please remember that any little thing you do to help – fostering, educating, searching, donating, whatever is within your ability to do – is important. In the big scheme of things it might seem small, but you can bet it is important to the animals that are helped.

"The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." --Ghandi.

No News, and Sad News.

2012-01-13T20:53:00.000-08:00

No News: There have been no sightings of London for the past few days. We're not giving up - we are still hopeful of finding her, still blanketing the area with posters, and walking the trails daily. As an aside, this has been good experience for Eddie, who has been accompanying me and is quickly becoming an old pro at car travel, hiking trails, and even waiting patiently in the vehicle while I talk with other searchers. I took today off, as I had some other things to take care of, but tomorrow Eddie and I will be back at it. I'm just hoping the forecasted snow bypasses us - so far this week it has been quite pleasant out, and snow or rain would certainly make the search more difficult.

"London"
1 year old lost sheltie
Last seen near Stocking Creek Park, Saltair, Vancouver Island

Sad News: Sadie's medical tests have confirmed that she has an insulinoma - a tumor of the pancreas. While in people this is often benign, such is not the case in dogs. Insulinomas are rare in dogs and nearly always malignant. As Sadie's liver counts were also elevated, the vet fears it may have already spread - as is often the case by the time a canine insulinoma is diagnosed.

While a younger dog might benefit from surgery, the vet is not recommending it in 12-13 year old Sadie's case - the surgery is very invasive, the 'cure' rate is not high (largely because it has usually already spread), and recurrances within a year are frequent. The process of having surgery and being confined in the vets office for several days post-surgery would also be very traumatic for Sadie, who has abandonment issues when kennelled.

There are some drugs that may slow down the overproduction of insulin caused by the insulinoma and slow the growth of the cancer - they have some nasty side effects and we are still researching and discussing these options.

Sadie in healthier times

Please check back tomorrow for another important post about a dog in need.

A bright moment in a stressful day

2012-01-12T08:11:00.000-08:00

It was one of those days. I was short on sleep because Petey had been restless and barky all night (restless, which meant I couldn't have him on the bed with me in case he wandered off the edge and broke a leg; barky because he wasn't on the bed with me); London is still missing; and Sadie's test results still aren't in.

And then I open my email to see this:

Lucy with her kids
(Photo by HG, used with permission)

And a wonderful, heartwarming, bring-a-smile-to-my-face update from Lucy's mom, Heather. Lucy was my all-time favourite foster dog, who arrived pregnant with ten puppies and who took my heart with her when she headed for her forever home four months later. December 31st was the one-year anniversary of her adoption.

Heather says:

She quickly became such an integral part of our family that it's hard to imagine her not being here! Kaia adores her to bits, and Darcy almost equally as much (although he's not quite the dog lover that Kaia is ). Lucy is so protective of both kids, it's really amazing to see her mothering instincts at work. Lucy still sleeps at the end of Kaia's bed, every night without fail. As for the cats... well, Coco and Lucy seem to get along fine. Lola, on the other hand, will tolerate Lucy as long as it's at paw's length, ha ha! I have caught them on my bed together, but Lucy is perched on the edge about as far away as she can get but still be on the bed.

Lucy has enjoyed the occasional "doggy spa day" with her buddy Kai. It has become tradition that they both go to the groomer on their "birthday" and then we throw in a few extras here and there when we think they need a bath. Lucy and Kai still enjoy eachother's company... it's quite comical to watch them play.

Lucy also got to meet my brother's dog Angus over the holidays. Angus is a "fully intact" male and Lucy took an instant liking to him. It was borderline embarrassing how she threw herself at him. I guess nature kicked in even though she's not a "whole" woman :)

Oh Lucy, isn't that just like you! Ever the tease!

But I think my favourite part of the email was this:

At parent/teacher interview day for Kaia, I had the opportunity to look through Kaia's school journal. Nearly every day Kaia either talks about Lucy, or has drawn a picture of her. I think Lucy has a best friend for life in her girl. I'm positive the feeling is mutual.

And sometimes even reluctant spouses can be charmed by floosy, funny, short-legged long-bodied grinning dogs:

All of us love that brown furry... even Scott, who swore we'd never have a dog, has quite the soft spot for Lucy. He complains about her hogging the couch or bed or wherever Lucy has rest her head. Yet he'll never make her move :) . Thank you for helping us complete our family :)

My Lucy has truly become their Lucy, and I couldn't be happier for her. Thank you, Heather, Scott, Kaia and Darcy for making Lucy's life complete.

Quick updates

2012-01-10T23:52:00.000-08:00

1. London, the missing sheltie

London is still missing, but the good news is that she has been sighted several times by several people in the same area, and yesterday even entered her crate (which was set up in the yard of a place she had visited) but then spooked and bolted again before she could be enclosed. A system has now been rigged up to close her in from a distance if she returns.

For those helping in the search, the breeder emailed tonight to say she seems to be going up and down between the waterfall area of the park and a few homes on the bank, where they back onto the park (mostly off Knudsen Road and in behind the storage units).

She is a very scared dog right now, but will be getting hungry so hopefully she will soon come out for some tasty treat like warm BBQ chicken.

Please keep her in your thoughts and send positive vibes for her safe return.

Eddie helps in the search

2. Eddie, my new family member

Eddie's leg is much better, so hopefully his lameness was just from either too much walking or some twisting during his prancing around. I rested it for a day or two, did a couple of very short walks, and today took him to the park to help search for London - I figured it was time he got used to travelling in my vehicle (to fun places instead of scary new homes or the vet's office!) and the soft trails of the park would be good walking territory.

But that black box in front of your face still makes me nervous!

While somewhat anxious, overall he seemed to enjoy himself and was amply rewarded with treats. We didn't walk a long way; though we were at the park for about an hour, we spent much of that time just watching from vantage points or talking to other dog walkers. Tonight he is favouring his leg a little, so we'll see how he is tomorrow.

3. Petey, foster dog extraordinaire

Petey is doing well. He objects to my leaving him when he is awake, but he's settled in well and "Il Divo" knows how to wrap me around his little paws. On Monday, I'll be taking him down to Victoria to meet with another vet about his eyes. Please send "NO SNOW" vibes, because I don't want to be driving the Malahat in adverse conditions, and d*mn it's cold out there tonight!

Ah likes mah foster-mama pillow!

4. Sad starving Sadie

Sadie's test results aren't back yet - at least not the ones we are most interested in - but she is holding her own as long as she is fed every three hours or so, and only taken on very short, very gentle walks.

As I've mentioned before, Sadie has episodes where she suddenly starts staggering like a drunk and then collapses in a heap on the ground. The first episode occured last May, with tests and chest xrays in May and June revealing nothing; however, in August the episodes began again, and have been getting more severe and more frequent since then.

In a stroke of luck, if one can call it that, she collapsed five minutes before the vet arrived for a scheduled appointment last week, and so the vet was able to check her heart and blood pressure while she was having an episode, and both were completely normal - we are now able to rule out a cardiac or circulatory problem. Her blood sugar, however, was dangerously low (1.2), and was still well below the appropriate minimum level a half hour after being fed corn syrup and carbs.

We are waiting for tests that will tell us if she has an insulinoma (tumor on the pancreas which causes overproduction of insulin) or possibly Addison's disease. Please keep her in your thoughts too.

Yeah, an' look how skinny I is despite all those extra meals!

Sleepless in Saltair

2012-01-09T21:45:00.000-08:00

There is a very scared lost sheltie in Saltair and a very worried owner in Saltair tonight. (Saltair in a small community just north of here, between Chemainus and Ladysmith, BC). London, aka London Fog, had just recently arrived at her new forever home when she took off last Friday, January 6th.

She has since been spotted in or near Stocking Creek Park (aka Byron Creek Park), behind Byron market, near the daycare at the nearby school, walking down the railway tracks, and in the vicinity of Knudson and Porter Streets which I believe are just north west of the park. She seems to be hanging around the area, but as she is new to the area she would not know how to get back to her new home, and would be at risk to try to make her way back down island to her old home. The area in which she is missing is a combination of woods, trails, creeks, residential and a busy road or two.

If you live in this area, please help look for London. Perhaps take your dogs for a walk at the very beautiful Stocking Creek Park. Most shelties are very initially very shy of strangers, but she may respond to calls of "Cookie, cookie!" or "Let's go, London!" And no doubt she is very hungry by now.

London is a blue merle sheltie, who would look very much like my Eddie but with some tan markings as well. You can see a photo of her at her breeder's website here.

As I haven't yet spoken directly to the current owner, I am reluctant to put his phone number on the web without permission, but there will be posters around the area with the number clearly listed.

Please help London get home safely.

And if you are responsible for rehoming a dog, or if you have recently added a dog to your family, please remember to keep dogs safe in new surroundings.

Ten reasons why I should just go back to bed

2012-01-07T11:57:00.000-08:00

1. It is raining.

2. The back yard is thick with mud (see #1), which makes me mad at myself for not having it landscaped properly last year as I had intended.
3. Twelve paws make a big mess (See # 1 and 2)

4. Petey got up when I was playing on the computer and I ignored his barking a bit too long and he peed on the carpet. I hate cleaning the carpet.

Wazn't mah fawlt - Ah tried to tell ya I needed out!

5. It’s a weekend and I’m waiting for test results on Sadie, which means I have to wait at least two more days. (Sadie has been having frequent collapses, and several hundred dollars later we are still trying to figure out what is going on. More about that next week).

6. Sadie threw up on the carpet – my fault, I gave her a treat which didn’t agree with her - which means (a) I have to clean the carpet – again and (b) her meds were also thrown up, completely whole, and (c) I have to try to stuff more food into her as she now has to eat six times a day or collapse (See #5).

Ah don't feel well - I'z goin' back to bed

7. Eddie is not weightbearing on one leg, which has me worried and also means no walk today - and potentially another vet bill.

8. I haven’t put my Christmas decorations away and as a young child I learned it is BAD LUCK to have them up after the twelfth day of Christmas, which was yesterday or the day before, I think.

9. My house is a disaster, the dirty dishes are piled high, there are mountains of laundry, I’m stressed about money and dogs, I can't take a long hike because I'm tied to the dogs for feedings and pee breaks (see #4 and #6), and

10. I’m having a bitchy day.

But, of course, I can’t go back to bed because Sadie needs feeding every three hours, and Petey says he wants attention, and Eddie doesn’t know why he isn’t going for a walk so keeps running (hopping – see #5) to the back door expectantly, and besides, going back to bed won’t get the dishes washed, the laundry clean, the decorations put away, or the house tidied.

So I guess I better suck it up and get to work.

Ha ha, Mama, we knows ya luvs us anyway!

Want some hot chocolate?

2012-01-05T22:31:00.000-08:00

Coco: I'll even come with marshmallows!

Hot Chocolate, Cocoa, same thing. Or, in this case, Coco. Maybe she's Coco-Nut. But she is an 10-11 year old chocolate lab whose family decided they didn't want her any more, so now she's in the care of the SPCA, waiting for a new forever home.

She had an untreated bladder infection which caused her to 'leak', but medications cleared it up. She gets along with other dogs and cats, and like most labs she loves everyone and loves attention. She loves to go for a good walk, but serious hiking would be beyond her - she's not as energetic as she once was. She'd love a quieter house with a comfy couch and a human or two to love. You won't find a better, sweeter companion than this.

Please spread the word. Contact the Cowichan and District SPCA (250-746-4646) for more information.

Let's find this girl a home.

Quick update on the newbies

2012-01-03T22:04:00.000-08:00

Petey and Eddie are both doing fine.

Petey continues to putter around the house, barking when he can't find me. He is a snugglebug who loves to lie on my lap while I'm at the computer, and is a lot less annoying than a certain cat who thinks walking across the keyboard while I'm on the computer is entertaining. And since Petey is much smaller than the cat, he doesn't interfere with typing or block my view of the screen. He's also a very polite bedmate, who doesn't wiggle, snore, or hog the covers. I'm sure somewhere out there in blogland is someone just waiting for a snugglebug bedmate to keep them company.

Petey the Perfect Pal

Eddie is doing great! Although I had been told he didn't go on walks as he panics around vehicles, this has not been the case here. Already he is doing the 2 km beachloop with me each morning as well as another evening walk around town. While we don't have a lot of traffic here, he didn't even flinch when the big scary garbage truck stopped right beside us, airbrakes and all, nor when the recycling truck roared by, and regular cars whizzing past on wet roads were no problem - he LOVES his walks! He walks quite well on leash, especially once he gets over the initial excitement of marking every blade of grass and telephone pole.

Eddie's First Beachwalk

So far, the only things he is afraid of are the camera, the flashlight, and the boom of some fireworks that some idiot let off in front of our house when we were in the backyard this evening. But he's a smart dog - he headed right for the back door. And the few fireworks we heard New Year's Eve hadn't bothered him, so I think it was just the proximity of these ones that unnerved him - me, too!

He hasn't shown his playful side here yet, but that will come. My friend Else brought Tess the Pest over for a playdate but Eddie decided Tess was just a bit too boistrous and ran back into the house to hide. Sadie, on the other hand, was delighted to see a familiar face and put her blues aside to have a great game of bitey face and 'catch the zoomy dog' - it was so good to see her happy for a while. She has been so sad without Charley.

Sadie and Tess at play

The monsoons have begun and the backyard is under a couple of inches of water tonight. Send small poodle-sized life jackets. And giant-sized blow dryers. Do you know how much water a very thick-coated sheltie can bring back into the house? We won't talk about the mud. No we won't. Whose bright idea was it to get a dog with a lot of white fur???????

Hello, 2012!

2012-01-01T12:46:00.000-08:00

I can’t say I’m sorry to wave goodbye to 2011. I will gladly boot it out the door. While it was not the most difficult year of my life, it was certainly one of my saddest. In the last four months alone, I have lost my foster dog Pepper; my friend Char; my sister and closest human friend in the world, Carole; and my beloved old dog Charley.

Pepper

Charley

It was also the year in which we said those sad final goodbyes to my neighbour Buck, my dogsitter Patti, and friends’ dogs Sam and Mara and Gingersnap, and Deb’s cat Jasper, not to forget many other old critters belonging to internet friends and face-to-face friends.

Sam

Mara

Ginger Snap

Jasper
(Photo by Deb Strong)

They were good souls, these dogs, cats, and humans. My life was enriched by having known them.

It wasn’t all sad, last year. There were happy times too, like the month that Sam stayed with me before he passed away, and short term visits from Georgie and my granddog Becky and others. There were dogs who came with their humans, like Becky with my daughter; Kinley and Logan with Ellen; Taleah and Riley with Deb and Sharon ; and there were humans who came without dogs, like my longtime friends two-legged Charlie, and Ann and Ken.

Georgie

Becky

Kinley and Logan

Riley

Taleah
(Oh my goodness, she looks so much like Eddie!)

There was foster dog Jessie, and little Dover the Piglet, both of whom found their forever homes. And now there is foster dog Petey, and my newest canine family member, Eddie. And, of course, Sadie and Allie are still here to make me laugh.

Jessie

Dover

Petey

Eddie

Sadie

Allie
(Allie: "Ah notice she saved the best fer last!! Heheheheheh")

And there was oh so much more - great times with friends, volunteering at the SPCA and Chemainus theatre, my writers' group and my book club, co-writing the "Crofton Connection" column for the Chemainus Courier with Liz Forbes, and exploring my beautiful island.

I hope that 2012 will hold many more of the good times – more fosters, friends and fun – and less of the sad ones. I have had a story accepted for publication in a Canadian anthology of animal stories (more about that when I have the contract in my grubby little paw), and I've developed my photography skills and have started making photocards for various rescues and private sales. I've signed up for some walks and hikes with Elder College for the coming year, and can't wait to see and photograph some places I haven't been before. And, of course, Eddie, Sadie and I will have many adventures. The year ahead is full of possibilities.

So, Hello, 2012. What surprises do you have in store for me?

Happy New Year, everyone.

The Old Year Ends with a New Beginning

2011-12-31T09:28:00.000-08:00

I was going to do a wrap up of the year on this last day of 2011. So many friends, canine and human, have come and gone. But I’m going to save that until tomorrow. Because today there is something much more exciting to blog about!

About a year ago, I began to watch the rescue sites for another sheltie to add to my forever family, and I spread the word among my rescue-and-shelter friends. I also contacted Sheltie Rescue to let them know I would love to foster and/or adopt another sheltie. My life with Belle and Oliver gave me a love of this spunky breed, and their passing in June 2010 left a big void.

A couple of shelties surfaced but one was adopted before I could meet him, and the other was palliative and passed away shortly after (in the loving care of a wonderful person who looked after her during her last weeks on earth). I heard through the grapevine that the coordinator for Sheltie Rescue had changed, but before I could contact the new person to introduce myself, Charley fell ill and I put everything on hold for a few months.

Two hours before my Charley passed away, I received an email from a friend to let me know there was a sheltie in need of a new home. I was in no emotional shape to deal with it at that time, so I just left it in my inbox.

A few days later, fully expecting the sheltie to have already been placed, I inquired. And to my delight, from over twenty inquiries mine was selected for further discussions. A week of emails and phone calls back and forth, some negotiation on a date to accommodate holiday plans and my own care of granddog Becky and integration of new foster Petey, and a trip up island to meet one very special boy, and I had absolutely no question in my mind that my family would grow by one.

And so, without further ado, please welcome Eddie!

Hai! What is this place? What's a blog?

Eddie is a seven year old purebred blue merle sheltie who has lost his second home through no fault of his own. His breeder, who raised him for the first two years, was contacted but didn’t want him back. The family with whom he was living received helpful guidance about rehoming from Sheltie Rescue which enabled Eddie to move straight from his old home to mine without the unsettling additional step of a shelter or foster. It is to the family's credit that they did due diligence at what, for them, was a very difficult and sad time.

Eddie is a happy boy, though a bit anxious at the moment – however, when I met him in his old home, he was clearly relaxed and at ease with the world, and wanted nothing more than to entice Sadie, who came with me for the visit, into play.

He is not deaf. He is not blind. He is not even senior. As much as I love the old and special needs ones, it was time for me to offer a forever home to a dog who I hope will be with me for a long time. He will be going in for dental and a neuter once he has settled in here. So far, his only real flaw seems to be his fear of cameras - he races into his crate and hides whenever he sees me pick it up. We shall have to work on that!

Scary black box!!! Put it down! Put it down!

He is proving himself to be great with Petey (who mistook Eddie for a fluffy humping pillow for the first several hours), good with the cat, and willing to let Sadie come to him on her own terms. Sadie's nose is a little out of joint, and she’s not sure what to make of this playful guy, but she’s beginning to think he might be okay.

Sadie: I'm not looking at you. But you can lie next to me if you want.
(I haz a bruver! I haz a bruver!)

It may be the last day of 2011, but today is the first day of the rest of Eddie’s life. Welcome Home, Eddie. I hope you like it here.

Sunrise waits for no one

2011-12-29T23:05:00.000-08:00

It is 7:00 AM. I let Becky into the back yard for a pee and notice the faint beginnings of a promising sunrise in the clear dawn sky. I pop back inside, toying with the idea of a sunrise walk. I pour a large mug of coffee, my second this morning, and take another look. The sky is now deep golden. Definitely a morning for a sunrise beach walk.

But sunrise waits for no one. By the time I get the other two dogs out to do their business, pull on some clothes, find the camera, grab a fresh battery, choose a jacket and gloves, and leash up a dog, the deep golden has paled to a light yellow, and the streaks of red are now pink and white.

Still, Becky is all leased up and ready to go, so we head to the beach. For two walks a day, every day for nearly three weeks, Becky has walked well on leash. Today, just as we hit the seawalk which is covered by a very thin and very slippery layer of black ice, she decides to take me for a drag, pulling heartily as any untrained extra large puppy.

I need more hands - one firmly on the leash and one firmly on the handrail leaves very few fingers for manipulating the camera. Still, I manage a few shots before the sun slides behind Maple Mountain and dawn turns back to night.

We reach the far end of the seawalk and firmer footing on gravel path, and the sun begins to re-appear and sets the bay on fire.

Twenty minutes later, sunrise over, we head up the hill to complete our 2km morning walk, albeit in the reverse direction from our usual walk. This direction involves a much steeper uphill climb, and Becky has quit pulling me. I am getting too warm in my winter coat, hat and gloves. I begin to question my sanity. Sunrise walks? I should have gone back to bed.

I am nearly at the top of the hill, half way round our loop, when I realize that drinking two big mugs of coffee then going for a walk in the cold, cold air not a good idea. I muse that this might give credence to Freud's theory of penis envy - oh, to be able to surreptitiously stand beside a bush or tree and take a whiz!

I make it home without incident, where Petey is barking for his breakfast, and Sadie wants to go for her walk (because, after all, she always gets a turn right after Becky). I placate all the dogs with food, head for the shower, and make a mental note to avoid coffee and to wear non-slip footwear the next time I entertain sunrise walks.

But it was a nice way to end Becky's Island Vacation. By noon, her Papa had arrived to take her back to Vancouver. Her weeks here went very quickly, and she was such a good guest. I think she had a good time - she enjoyed our walks, Santa found where she was staying, and she got lots of quality time with her Grandma Jean.

I'll miss her, though I'm rather thankful that Sadie and Petey are quite happy to sleep in past sunrise. I look forward to some lazy mornings again.

But, then, who knows what tomorrow might bring?

Yeah. Who knows?

The Little Dog That Could

2011-12-28T17:56:00.000-08:00

I think this bowtie is a bit big for me!

The spunk and intelligence of many dogs who come into rescue from sad circumstances never fails to amaze me, and my newest foster Petey is no exception. He may be all of ten pounds soaking wet, geriatric, completely blind, deaf, with rotten teeth, and obviously has been terribly neglected, but no one ever told HIM that. He is one independent dude, who in five short days has learned to negotiate the whole house and most of the back yard, much of it without even lowering his head to sniff the ground any more.

Let's see, kitchen ahead and to the right....

He can now find his way between the living room, kitchen, and my office without bumping into a thing. With a few missteps, he can make his way from the mudroom at the back of the house to the kitchen near the front. The dining room is more of a challenge because of chair legs, but he does amazingly well. Mostly he will try to find his own way out of Chair Leg Forest, but occasionally when he gets stuck he will sit down and squeak until I give him a hand. I try to wait a little bit longer each time he squeaks, keeping in mind a poem (by Ogden Nash, I believe) I learned when my daughter was about two and which I think I have quoted on this blog in the past:

I see him stumble on the rung,

But do not run to get him.

He's learning how to climb, and I

Am learning how to let him.

Petey is also very competent in the back yard – he no long bumps into fences. The large puddles currently forming from our first day of heavy rain in a long, long time are a bit of a challenge to him, but usually I just carry him over them to higher, drier ground.

Petey is not keen on his crate, voicing his opinion loudly before settling down to sleep, or waking up and demanding his servant come let him out. However, he loves his oval dog bed and can find his own way in and out of the basket with no problem. While the crate is a necessity at times - like on our trip to the vet yesterday - he has the run of the house when I am home, and an xpen around his basket when I must go out for more than a half hour or so.

He is completely comfortable with Sadie and Becky and Allie, though they are not so sure what to make of him.

Sadie: MOMMMM.....He's staring at me again!

Petey: Silly cow! Doesn't he know I can't see????

Petey chows down like there's no tomorrow - he has no problem at all finding his dish! Because of his rotten teeth, he is on canned food only, and he likes most varieties. But today's salmon and sweet potato was a Big Fail. He flatly refused to eat it, backing away in disgust until I, needing to get his medications into him, opened a can of lamb and rice and offered him that. Half a can was gone in a heartbeat.

I dunno about the service here. A guy could starve waiting for dinner to arrive.

He is incredibly clean – not a single accident in the house - and does his business as soon as he feels his feet on the grass outside. He likes to be warm, and gets quite trembly when naked. I stopped by the SPCA yesterday and they loaned me a sweater which fits him perfectly - much better than wearing his fleece-lined parka inside, and warmer than his "Born To Run" teeshirt, though both have their uses.

Just watch me - Speedy Petey!

We’ve begun a little leash training - trying to get him to follow the tug of a leash in the yard or house. He will follow for a few seconds but then he plants his butt on the ground and rolls over. It’s rather like trying to walk a cat on leash – I follow him rather than the reverse! See, he's no dummy - he knows who's in control!

But the most amusing aspect of this little dog that could is the effort he puts into make his bed. Sometimes it takes him a full twenty minutes of scratching and shoving and twisting and turning and pulling and pushing and mouthing and tugging to get his blanket just where he wants it. Try taking the blanket away and he is inconsolable - he will scratch at the pad in the basket and then give up in disgust and walk away to search for a better spot. Here's a video taken part way through his bed making effort - and although it ends with him settling down, he was back up working on it again as soon as I switched off the video. (I apologize for the darkness - I cannot seem to get the camera to allow in more light in the video mode).

Merry Christmas

2011-12-25T08:04:00.000-08:00

From Sadie,

Yeah, whatever, let me sleep a little longer would ya?

And Allie,

You're kidding, right? You expect me to look Christmassy?

And my visiting granddog Becky,

Mama! Papa! Save me!

But most of all from my little foster dog, Petey,

I have NO idea what my foster mama is doing to me!

And, of course, from me. Merry Christmas. May your day be filled with peace and joy.

And lots of laughter, too!!!

Charley's Will, Petey's Inheritance

2011-12-23T20:34:00.000-08:00

Shortly after Charley passed away, I received the following beautiful poem from my friend Gail. The accredited author is Luis Delgado:

A Dog's Will

Before humans die, they write their Last Will and Testament, give their home and all they have to those they leave behind. If, with my paws, I could do the same, this is what I'd ask....

To a poor and lonely Stray, I'd give my happy home. My bowl and cozy bed, soft pillows and all my toys.

The lap, which I loved so much, the tender loving touch.

The hand that stroked my fur, and sweet voice which called my name.

I'd will to the sad, scared shelter dog, the place I had in my human's loving heart, of which there seemed no bounds.

So when I die, please do not say, "I will never have a pet again, for the loss and pain is more than I can stand."

Instead, go find an unloved dog. One whose life has held no joy or hope, and give MY place to HIM.

This is the only thing that I can give .....The love I left behind.

This is my inheritance! My Last Will and Testament.

I know if Charley had left a will, those would have been her words. And while I expect to adopt another dog or two in the coming year, today we address the spirit of the will by welcoming a new foster dog to our home - a dog who, without a doubt, fits the above description of those Charley would want to help.

Please do not skip this photo, as hard as it is to look at. It is the 'before' picture of a sad unloved dog. If ever you doubt there is a need for rescue, consider this photo. This is Petey, when he arrived at animal control a couple of days ago:

The good people at Broken Promises Rescue responded to the shelter's call for help - a shelter was no place for this dog. Petey is blind and appears to also be deaf. The vet believes he is at least twelve years old. His blindness is due to neglect - likely neglected eye infections - in which his eyes are now completely destroyed and will likely need to be removed. His teeth are also destroyed - nearly all will be pulled when he is ready for surgery. He was, as you can see, a matted mess. He has now been bathed, groomed, and been to the vet. He's on antibiotics and pain relief. Here is his 'after' photo, courtesy of Broken Promises:

And for all he has been through, despite months or years of living hell, he is a funny, sweet, loving boy who likes nothing better than being cuddled and who is already showing signs of being the male version of a Diva. I brought him home from Victoria this afternoon, and he quickly took charge of my lap, much to the cat's disgust. Then he chowed down on a dish of food, pranced around the back yard with a little guidance from me, wasn't the least bit fazed by Sadie or Becky or Allie, made a lot of squeeky noises and a few barks, and after an incredible effort at remaking his bed to get it 'just right' (I have never seen a dog put so much effort into making a bed!), settled down in Belle's old basket, with Charley's old blanket. He then continued to grouse and complain until I covered him with his fuzzy-lined coat. Once appropriately covered, he promptly went to sleep:

Welcome, Petey, welcome. May you enjoy the bed and bowl bequeathed to old shelter dogs by those that I have loved.
**************

Note:

Surgery for Petey and others like him is expensive. Please consider making a donation to Broken Promises Rescue, a registered charity, to help cover such costs. You'll find donation information on their website. Tell them Petey sent you.

Solace in a Winter's Solstice

2011-12-21T22:57:00.000-08:00

The silhouette of an eagle passes over head, its wings pulsating gracefully in the dawning light. The frosty grass crunches as the dogs pad around the yard, looking for that perfect place to do their morning business. Standing in my pjs on the back porch, I shiver, clutching my coffee mug with both hands in a feeble attempt to keep warm. I should have grabbed my winter coat. I could go back into the house for it, but I know if I open the door both dogs will rush in without finishing what they have started. And then I shall have to hit replay ten minutes later.

I am plodding through my grief-filled days, one foot in front of the other, taking one day at a time. Such clichés, but oh so true. It is all one can do. Death is part of life, life is part of death. Dogs and sisters pass on. So shall we all.

It is Winter Solstice. Paradoxically, with the advent of winter comes the lengthening of the daylight hours. I haven’t minded the darkness. My evening walks around town, looking at Christmas displays and nosily peering into people’s undraped windows, have been enjoyable. I find comfort in spotting things that make me smile. Joy and sorrow are so intertwined. Laughter is so important to survival.

A Christmas turtle with his fishy catch

I am thankful that the weather has been nice – cold and crisp one day, warm and mild another, but little rain to dampen my spirits. The outdoors is my solace. How can one not feel at peace with such beauty all around?

Osborne Bay on a December morning

Arbutus tree reflection

Sun filters through misty morning

Becky leads the way on the oceanside path

Granddog Becky and I go for a long walk each morning, a shorter one at night. This morning we watched ducks do water ballet, hoisting their little white rumps straight up in the air, then twirling around in perfect synchrony. They made me laugh out loud.

Sadie and I also do two walks a day, though shorter by necessity, Sadie slinks low to the ground as if every step is an effort for her. She stops to sniff the ground where Charley once peed. She is grieving too. As I returned from a walk with Becky the day after Charley passed, I heard, then saw, Sadie howling in the middle of the house. She looks for her friend, for the companion she so carefully watched over the past few months. But she is slowly coming around – today, when I returned from an afternoon out, she greeted me with happy playbows and attempts to mouth my hand with her big smiling face. That, too, made me laugh.

I fill my days with reading, music, seasonal activities. The Christmas parade, a couple of community sing-alongs, a few volunteer shifts at the theatre, dinner out, coffee with friends – it is an enjoyable time of year, surrounded with people and animals and sounds and sights that I love. It is good to be alive. I weep, at times, but smile through the tears. Oh to share this place I love with those who have passed on.

In many ways I do.

The Best Dog Ever

2011-12-16T16:31:00.000-08:00

CHARLEY
July 12, 1997 - December 16, 2011
The Best Dog Ever

She came to me a wee little ball of black and white fur, the only dog I would ever raise from pup to old age. I didn’t know about the thousands of homeless older dogs just waiting for homes. I wanted a puppy, the local SPCA didn’t have any, and I’d never heard about rescue organizations. And so I answered an ad in a paper, went to the house, gave them $50, and the backyard breeder handed her over, no questions asked. They said her mom was a border collie and her dad a rough collie, and she was due for her shots.

She threw up in my lap on the way home.

She was the Best Dog Ever. She never chewed a shoe or destroyed a piece of furniture, she didn’t bark or whine or create havoc in the house. Her only bad habit, one I was never able to change, was her tendency to paw people’s knees with her very strong claws. She was just saying “Pat me, please pat me!”

We went through a lot together, Charley and I. She stayed by my side when I marked exams late into the night, and she rose at dawn when there were piglets or foster pups to be fed. She camped with me and travelled with me. She never much liked riding in the car, though a lakeside or seaside destination made the travel worthwhile. She loved to gaze at the water. She loved farm life almost as much as she loved beaches. Give her a beach or a pasture, and she was content.
She accepted well the steady stream of dogs who came and went in our house, though she never became ‘best buddies’ with any. She thought piglets were far more interesting and much easier to herd. However, she was always sensitive to my emotions, picking up on my stress, my sorrow, my joy, and so she grieved with me for the many dogs who passed on before her, and she celebrated with me when fosters found their forever homes.

She was an independent missy not unlike her mama, and preferred to retire to another part of the house away from the action. But in the past few weeks, I would wake in the night to find Charley standing in my bedroom doorway, leaning against the jamb. “Mom? Mom, I can’t sleep. Can you help me?” I would give her some meds, and lie down with her on her mat, and she would shove her nose gently against my cheek or under my chin - “Thanks mom" - as she drifted back to sleep. It was only recently that she allowed Sadie, who has lived with us for three years, to lie beside her and watch over her while she slept. We all knew she was getting weaker and would soon be leaving us.

Last night she told me it was time. And this morning, in our home, with my arms around her, she slipped quietly from sleep to death and took a chunk of my heart with her.

I have shared my home with her longer than with any other being, canine or human, except for my parents and my daughter. Fourteen and one half years. And I wish for fourteen and one half more.

Charley-girl, you were a good, good dog and a good, good friend, and I shall miss you and love you forever.

Charley, age 3 months

Charley on the beach

Charley's signature smile

A Thousand Tears

A thousand tears have washed my face

Since you left home today.

A thousand sobs have pierced my throat,

A thousand sorrows stay.

A thousand stories come to mind

Of all the things we’ve done.

A thousand walks, a thousand parks,

A thousand days of fun.

A thousand pieces is my heart,

So shattered by your leaving.

My friend of over fourteen years

Now gone, and I am grieving.

But for each tear that I have shed,

For all the sobs and sorrows,

A thousand memories remain

To comfort my tomorrows.

Run free, my good, good dog.

Dear Mama, Dear Papa, Love Becky

2011-12-14T21:03:00.000-08:00

Hi Mama and Papa, it's me, Becky!

Well, here I am at Grandma Jean's house, and she doesn't seem to be blogging much so I figured I'd give it a go.

It was sure fun to visit Great Grandma Rose on Sunday (wasn't I a good dog in her nursing home?), and then to ride back to Vancouver Island in Grandma Jean's van with my ~~cousin~~....um....auntie Sadie. I wish you had come too, but Grandma Jean says you are both going away for Christmas and I will have a lot more fun here than in some dumb ~~jail~~ kennel. Grandma says I get to stay for the rest of the month, so I sure hope Santa will know where to find me!

I love Grandma Jean's house. It's nothing like our apartment - there are no long hallways or elevators here. I just go to the back door, wait for Grandma to open it (I wonder if I can figure out how to do that myself!), and bingo, I’m in the back yard. I like that! Grandma thinks I am smart to learn about the door so quickly – I showed her just how smart I am at least five times the first night. Charley and Sadie wanted in on the game, so we all spent all night getting Grandma out of bed to open the door for us. That was fun!

I am being a very good girl. I haven't chased the cat, not even once! Mostly I just follow Grandma around, or sleep on one of the many dog beds around here. At night time, I sleep on my special blanket right beside Grandma's bed. Other than the first night, I have slept allllll night long.

Grandma and I go for lots of walks. It sure is quiet here - there are hardly any people or cars or trucks or sirens or noise at all. Sure not like downtown Vancouver where we live! I love walking along the Crofton seawalk and down to the beach.

Here I am, waiting to go down the stairs to the beach

On the seawalk

On the beach

And ya know what, Mama and Papa??? Yesterday, we saw one of Santa's reindeer on the beach! Yes! Grandma says maybe he - or she - is having a little holiday before the long, long flight on Christmas Eve. Grandma tried to get a photo, but the deer ran up to the park by the ferry terminal. This was the best shot she could get.

Santa's reindeer on holiday in Crofton

I told her not to get too close - I didn't want to be singin' "Grandma got run over by a reindeer".

And we also saw cats and ducks and trumpeter swans and herons and gulls and all sorts of things. And I never tried to chase any of them. Of course, I was on leash and Grandma had both hands holding on tight, so I didn't have too much choice.

Must. Not. Chase. Cat.

Must. Not. Chase. Ducks.

I like watching the sun come up on the big cargo boat over at the mill, and the little tugboats moving the logs around in the water.

Grandma says there is going to be a parade here on Sunday, and Santa will be riding in a fire truck (I guess he is coming down to pick up that reindeer, eh?), and it will go right past Grandma's house. Auntie Else is coming down to watch it with us, and then we will all walk over to the next street for a big outdoor community sing-a-long.

Grandma already saw Santa - Mrs. Clause too! - the night before she came over to get me. She and Auntie Else went on the Chemainus Carol Boat, which is a little ferry that takes all the people for a ride up to Ladysmith, and they all stand on the deck and sing carols and drink hot chocolate. The carol ships from Ladysmith come out too, and dance twirly circles to show off for the people on the Chemainus boat. And there are fireworks on the beach at Ladysmith. Grandma said it was lots of fun.

Carol Ship from Ladysmith

Grandma's attempt at capturing the fireworks

Santa and Mrs. Claus!!

Anyway, I guess I should go because it's time to take Grandma out for her evening walk. I'll write again soon.

Love, Becky

P.S. Grandma says to tell the blog readers that Dover the little piggy moved to a foster-to-adopt home today! She is with some people who had a big companion piggy who went to the Bridge, and they love piggies and they also have a few other farm animal pets to keep Dover company. Dover will be spayed January 4th, and then the adoption can be finalized. Be good Dover - I was once a shelter doggy, and found a forever mama and papa, and I just know you are gonna have your forever home too.

A Day for All Seasons

2011-12-06T16:12:00.000-08:00

The weather has been cold, crisp and sunny, with the occasional warmer, overcast day. Taking advantage of dry days on the Wet Coast, Sadie and I have been wandering the beach, exploring the town, meandering back lanes. Charley, who can no longer walk more than half a block, has been enjoying the back yard and puttering beside me as I put up the first of the outdoor Christmas lights or pull up the last of the summer’s greenery on the patio.

The four seasons are usually quite distinct here on Vancouver Island – the early blooming bulbs and flowering fruit trees of the spring, the hot breezes and colourful gardens of summer, the gold and red autumn palette of fall, and the bare but beautiful, though often wet and occasionally snowy, days of winter.

But seldom do I see all four seasons on the same day. Such a day was Sunday.

Sadie and I headed out in the crisp clear air, careful not to slip on Winter’s frosty floor. All around town, residents were putting up their Christmas decorations. Fruit trees in the neighbourhood are now bare of their leaves, though a few fruit remain hanging from the naked boughs. As I clicked with the camera, my warped sense of humor already formed the caption that I knew would have made my sister laugh:

My family tree: Just a few bad apples left!

Ah, Winter. Ah, dying leaves and graying skies. Ah, grief for life snuffed out too young. I miss my sister.

But with the winter, on this sunny Sunday, come little surprises. As Sadie and I head down the stairs to the beach, I notice pussywillows already fluffy and soft – two months early, but oh so welcome.

Pussywillow on a December Day

And in the yard, Charley and I discover ......a young green pea shoot struggling to be born in a raised bed of compost!

Hello, little pea! What are you doing here at this time of year?

Spring! You will arrive one day, and these are your harbingers. But first we must get through winter. Thank you for showing me your promise of future joy.

Then, as I struggle to move the large pot with Oliver’s tree, my patio Christmas tree, to where I will be able to enjoy watching birds nibble at popcorn chains and see its twinkling lights reflect in the glass patio doors, I suddenly notice my geraniums. Not only are the leaves still green and untouched by winter’s frost, but there, low to the ground and protected from wind and cold, is a fresh young flower. Hello, Summer – still hanging around? Aren’t you going to rest for a while? Thank you for bringing some colour and warmth to my life at this moment in time.

December's flowering geranium

And later that afternoon, Sadie and I head to the park, the setting sun illuminates a tree – a tree that still displays all its Autumn glory, not yet ready to give way to Winter.

An autumn tree in her golden dress, not ready to leave the party

Four seasons, one town, one December Day. All life interdependent and eternal. The seasons are cyclical yet sometimes overlap, merge, connect past, present and future all in one place and at one point in time. And I think about my sister, our lives together from childhood through retirement, and I think of how she did not reach the Winter of her life, yet I see her in each glimpse of spring and summer and fall on this cold December day.

They never really leave us. They are always nearby. And on a Winter's day when we least expect to sense their presence, they are there.

The hole in my life, where my sister once lived,

Can never be mended with glue.

No duct tape, no putty, no mortar and paste

Can ever repair it like new.

No book full of photos, no cards from her friends,

No stories of times we once shared

Can re-fill that hole, where my sister once lived,

Where her smiles oft told me that she cared.

And the hole in my heart, like the hole in my life,

Is there for the longer duration.

She will always be missed, she will always be loved,

Remembered at each celebration,

Each birthday and Christmas, each trip to the seas,

Each sunrise and sunset she’s here,

Right here in my heart, right here in my life,

All seasons, in my memories.

For Carole. (c) JFB 2011

The Guardian

2011-12-05T08:29:00.000-08:00

Never, never in her fourteen and a half years, has Charley allowed any other dog to share her bed. In recent months, she has allowed Sadie to lie close by her, usually butt to butt on the floor, or side-by-side with a foot of carpet between them. But never on the same bed.

I was in my office working, Charley asleep as usual on her mattress in the living room, Sadie on the office couch. I was somewhat aware of Sadie leaving the room, and a little while later figured I should check on her - her idea of 'asking' to go out is to stand with her nose to the back door and hope someone will notice. As I left the office, I glanced down the hall to check that Charley was still okay, and this is what I saw:

Sorry for the poor quality of this photo - I didn't want to turn on lights or move too close for fear of disturbing them.

Sadie takes her guardian role very seriously - the weaker Charley becomes, the closer she hangs out with her. I just never expected to see them both on the same bed.

Good dog, Sadie, good dog.

Single Plump Female Seeks Loving Companion

2011-11-29T13:44:00.000-08:00

Companion Wanted

Plump but currently petite and youthful diva with an inflated sense of privilege and a ton of energy seeks a companion or two or three, any sex, with a willingness to work hard to develop a compatible life-long relationship . Sense of humor imperative. Size not an issue – I hope mine won’t be, either. I may grow to be a BIG girl. Must occasionally put up with my pigheaded behaviour, but will be rewarded with affection, entertainment, and laughter. Prefer financially secure homeowner with small acreage. I'm not interested in having offspring or ending up on someone’s table – serious inquiries only, please.

Contact the Cowichan and District SPCA at 250-746-4646 for more information and ask for an application form for Dover.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Dover has gone back to her regular foster, but what she really needs is a great forever home. That home must be prepared to offer her comfort, safety and companionship for her entire natural lifespan. A big unknown is her potential size - a fullgrown Berkshire is 600-700 pounds, but her current weight (about 3 pounds, after her stay with Auntie Jean) is well below that of the other pigs in the litter, who are the more typical 20-25 pounds and about the size of a small pitbull. Whether she is a genetic anomoly and will remain disproportionately small, or whether she will eventually catch up to breed average is a huge unknown.

Once she has achieved a safe weight, she will be spayed and available for adoption. She will need a special placement with someone who can work with her so she doesn't become a 600 pound pushing, shoving pigheaded Diva. She will only go to a home who will keep her as a companion pig (though not necessarily a house pig!) for life - she is not for slaughter, for eating, for breeding. While the breed itself, a Heritage breed with a small population, is considered vulnerable, it is quite simply poor animal husbandry to breed the runt of the litter. And animals who are wanted for breeding are often considered disposable once their breeding years are over. Dover must be wanted for herself, for her piggy personality, not for what she may or may not bring to the table. Oops....poor choice of words.

Ideally, she will share her new life with another pig - pigs are herd animals and do best with others of their kind. Pigs can be picky about their pen-pals, but a pig-savvy person who takes things one step at a time can often effect a successful introduction that allows unrelated pigs to become good friends. At the very least, she will need other non-predator companion animals around her - unless you plan to share your house and your bed with a large porcine princess.

So: If you are interested in adopting Dover, can offer her a lifetime home, and are either pig-savvy or very willing to be mentored, please contact Sandi at the SPCA, 250-746-4646. And if you can't adopt Dover, but know of people who may be interested and fit the criteria, please send them a link to this blog (let them know there are several entries about Dover, not just this one, so they can see what a busy little girl she is!).

We hope that networking with our animal-loving friends will help us find Dover's perfect forever home. Suitable applicants will go through the usual rescue process which includes a homecheck.

Adopt me!

The Value of Piggy Playtime

2011-11-28T11:04:00.000-08:00

Pigs are said to be the third most intelligent species in the world, ranking right behind primates and cetaceans(whales and dolphins). Little Dover may have been the runt of the litter, but she didn’t miss out on a single cell in the brains department. She figured out in no time where the gate to the xpen was. The first day, she just ran to the fence whenever she saw me. By the next morning, she ran right to the gate. Yesterday she realized that if she pushed and pushed and pushed, the bungy cords that keep it closed would give juuuuust enough for her to slip through. We now use caribiner clips instead. It takes a bit longer to open and close the gate, but at least I won’t wake up to find a piggy, whose primary activity seems to be peeing and pooping, running loose on my living room carpet.

She spends a fair bit of time outside of the xpen, in the mudroom with me. The mudroom is separated from the rest of the house by a dog gate. While she plays in the mudroom, I do mundane tasks like cleaning her pen, running laundry back and forth, taking her dishes to the kitchen. She sees me go through the dog gate. It took her all of about three observations to decide she would test her luck getting through the bars. She almost made it – and would likely have become stuck, head one side, belly the other, if I hadn’t stopped her. I now stretch the x-pen across the gate when Dover the Explorer is on the prowl.

So.... just what does one do to keep a wee little piggy entertained and meet the growing needs of her Very Big Brain? Most piglets her age would be rooting outside in the dirt and grass, looking for tasty bugs and worms and other things to eat. They would be running around with their siblings, stopping for a snooze in the sun or a roll in the mud, chasing butterflies and playing with falling leaves. But Dover is still too wee and vulnerable to expose her to the great outdoors.

Pigs may be very smart, but they also have very short attention spans. The toys she enjoyed for a short while yesterday and the day before – the I-cube and Wag-O twisty and the big round ball – are boring to her today.

She tastes the doormat and boot tray, nibbles my shoes, snuffles around the freezer for dust bunnies. She redecorates her xpen by shoving her crate over here, her blanket over there, and then does it all over again. She tips the water dish, shreds the pee pad, and checks in with me every few minutes to see if I happen to have anything for her.

I pull out some dog toys she hasn’t seen, and that keeps her busy for ... oh ....all of two minutes.

Hmm...what's this? Oh, toys. Boring!

I fix up a tray with some washed river rocks and tuck cheerios among them so she can root. That keeps her busy for perhaps five minutes.

Then she decides lifting up the corner of the tray with her snout and letting it bang back down is more fun. For perhaps 30 seconds.

I pull out some tiny dog clothes – they are awaiting transport to Broken Promises Rescue. I find an outfit that fits perfectly, but Dover is less than cooperative about modeling it and goes into a full fledged Drama Queen Routine. I’ve seen her wearing a Santa suit in the SPCA ad in the paper, but still I fear causing porcine heart failure, so I quickly remove it. So much for doing a fashion photo shoot for the porcine crowd.

Get if off! Get it off! I iz NOT a fashion model!

I suggest she hang her Christmas stocking on the door of her crate,

Deah Santa, Fer Christmas I wud like a forever home!

...and she wants a little tree as well, though her interest in it lasts only seconds.

Nuffin' to eat on here. You'd think she'd hang some gingerbread cookies or sumthin'.

I give her a few sheets of newspaper and she shakes them vigorously and races around the room waving one over her head like a flag. For all of 30 seconds. I invite the animal-loving teen next door over to meet her. Dover becomes very quiet and shy when visitors appear, but it gives her a new scent to investigate. For a minute or two.

I sit on the floor and she climbs all over me, nibbling at my shirt, tasting my hair, tugging on my pants, nosing her snout under my arm.

Auntie Jean! I can pinch an inch!

Eventually, she curls up on my lap for a nap.

We can cuddle?

I put her back in the xpen and leave the room. I’m hardly out the door before the squealing and squeaking, the barking and snorting, the oinking and crowing and noisy pig hollering begins once more.

I warm up some goat's milk and pigmush and feed her, even though it’s only two hours since she last ate. I leave again, and after a few minutes of histrionics she calms down and is fast asleep.

The toys and rocks and cheerios and clothes, the furniture and dustbunnies and my grey hair may not have been high value entertainment from her point of view, but the entertainment value to me was ......priceless.

Magic Moments with Diva Dover

2011-11-26T23:48:00.000-08:00

Magic moments from today:

--Waking up to the snuffle, snorkle, oink oink oink of a wee little piggy in the next room.

--Hearing that snuffle, snorkle, oink oink oink rise to a cacophony of squeals and screams and moos and clucks and grunts and chatters of a hysterical diva-in-training who wants her breakfast NOW!

--Watching her learn to roll a ball, pushing it around the room with her wee little snoutie.

--Seeing her push and pull and tug and knead her blanket to get her bed 'just right'.

--Discovering that today, on Day 3, she has decided I am the cat’s meow (or the piggy’s oink) as she suddenly climbs on my lap for a cuddle after play.

May I come up here, pwease?

You makes a good cushion, Auntie Jean!

I'z sleepy. I'z gonna haz a nap now.

-- Listening to her scream every time she sees me – not from hunger but from her demand for attention.

-- Feeling incredibly ‘needed’ by this little piggy, and caving to her demands to play EVERY SINGLE TIME.

-- Knowing that I would have made the perfect grandmother: Spoil the kid rotten for a few days and then send her back home.

Dover and I are having a blast. By Tuesday she will be truly, totally, a full-fledged Diva. And then I will hand her back to Sandi. <<< insert evil grin here>>>

Dover, in black and white

Dover the Drama Queen

2011-11-25T21:49:00.000-08:00

Dover gets quite excited when it is dinner time:

Excuse the poops in the video - piggy wakes up, piggy poops; piggy gets excited, piggy poops. Piggy poops and poops and poops. But then she also has sweet, sweet moments like this:

I'z sleepy now. Pwease go 'way.

Everybody should foster a piggy at least once in their life!

My sister would have loved this!

2011-11-24T18:31:00.000-08:00

We have a visitor. We are looking after her until Tuesday while her foster mama, the manager of our SPCA, is away. Her name is Dover and she is a teeny tiny Berkshire piggy, just over five weeks old but only weighing about two pounds (instead of the 15-20 they would normally weigh at this age). She was, needless to say, the runt of the litter, and has been in foster care since she was 9 days old. It really is a miracle she has survived.

And she makes me laugh.

Meet Dover:

Yum! Pig mash and goat's milk!

Is blue really my colour?

I'z all tuckered out - time for a nap!

So far I have learned

she is a very messy eater
unlike potbellies, she doesn't choose one corner for her bathroom and go only there - anywhere will do, the pee pads, the floor, the blankets, her crate. Silly Pig.
she likes her crate, but any warm blankets will do
she doesn't mind the xpen but loves to explore when I let her out,
she likes dog toys like I-Cube:

and especially this twisty thing which she really worked hard to shove into her crate:

Ta da! I'z such a clever piggy!

Charley was happy to greet her and then went back to bed;

Oh, good! Mama brought home a piggy again! Hi Piggy!

Sadie is absolutely infatuated with her and hardly leaves her side;

Hi Pig! Wanna share yer food wiv me?

and Allie is still undecided:

Whoa! What the heck is that?

That's gotta be the weirdest looking foster dog Mom's brought home yet!

Stay tuned for more tales and photos of Life With Dover.

I can see my sister's smiling eyes and hear her laughter loud and clear.

Miss ya, sis. Welcome, Dover.

Big Sis

2011-11-22T10:05:00.000-08:00

A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life.

~Isadora James.

My sister, Carole, passed away suddenly last night at the age of 66. My heart goes out to Bev, her life partner of over 35 years, and to Carole’s two sons, Peter and David. My nephews also lost their father very suddenly only two weeks ago.

Carole took me in when I first left home, was there for me through my marriages and divorces, through my single parenting, moves, career changes, and personal angst. She was my cheerleader and my sounding board, my go-to person when I needed a friend. She was a very significant part of my life, and I could always count on her.

She constantly showed me, in little ways, that I was in her thoughts: phone calls, emails, funny cards, little gifts, visits, long chats late into the night. She shouldered much of my share of the responsibility for mom. She always had some treats and a kind word for the critters.

Carole loved Christmas and blackberries and camping by a lake; she loved oceans, and mountains, and capturing nature's beauty through the lens of her camera. She took great delight in her grandaughter, Kaia. She was a good friend to many. She was my big sister and I looked up to her as only a little sister can.

My family is very small but we hold Bev and the boys in the shelter of our love. I cannot imagine the depths of their grief.

Big Sis, I will miss you so very much.

A visitor, an outing and a lot of crazy weather

2011-11-17T23:36:00.000-08:00

Grasses along Qualicum Beach

My longtime friend from Alberta, Charlie, (herein referred to as two-legged Charlie to differentiate him from a certain dog) has been visiting us this week. Our friendship goes back about forty years, and we last saw each other when he visited in December 07 . At that time, I was still on the mainland, fostering piggies, caring for an alpaca, and sharing my home with Belle, Charley, Caleb and Allie. So he hadn’t met Sadie yet.

Sadie thinks he is A-OK:

Hey, Georgia, I'z got my own Cushion!

Allie is rather resentful – last visit, she flirted shamelessly with two-legged Charlie and even curled up with him, something she rarely does with visitors. This time, she watched him with Sadie and sent evil thoughts his way:

Stoopid dog, hogging all the attention!

Four-legged Charley didn’t care much either way, as long as she still got her short little walks through the pretty fall leaves that cover the ground:

La-da-da-da-da just walkin' in the leaves...

Two-legged Charlie arrived Monday night, and Tuesday dawned sunny, crisp and beautiful. Sadie and I had a frosty walk on the seawalk:

Frosty Crofton Sea Walk

Then we headed up to Qualicum Beach so two-legs could say hi to some relatives there. Four-legged Charley has not been at all well lately, so she stayed home with my friend Else coming over to keep her company (Thanks, Else!). Sadie, however, came for the ride and while two-legged Charlie visited, we went for a walk on Qualicum Beach. By mid afternoon the sun had dipped behind the hill casting grey shadows over the beach. Still, I had fun playing with the camera and took a few ho-hum shots:

Kingfisher (left) and heron (right)

Rocks in the ocean

Hey, what's that?........

Birds, birds and more birds!

Colourful grasses

Grasses by the ocean

Bird on a rock

Wednesday, the weather took an about-face, and while our plans were to tour the Cowichan Valley, the grey skies and rain turned to snow when we reached Duncan. We slogged on, out to Genoa Bay and Maple Bay, where we had a very nice seafood lunch at the Shipyard Restaurant and Pub in Bird’s Eye Cove before heading home. It was too wet and yucky for me to bother with photos, though two-legged Charlie took some which I shall nag him for. In the evening we took in Countryside Christmas at the Chemainus Theatre Festival.

Today I awoke to rain at 5:30 AM, snow at 6:00 AM, beautiful sunshine at 9:00 AM, cloud at 3:00 PM, and on our way to an AMAZING dinner at the Stone Soup Inn near Lake Cowichan, we ran into snow again. Walking the dogs just now, at 10:00 PM, there is a cloudless night sky full of stars and a brilliant moon. And it is cold – very cold. The forecast is for 10-15 cm of snow tonight on the east coast of Vancouver Island, where we live, so I guess there must be more clouds coming in.

During the day today, I put two-legged Charlie to work fixing all the problems with my computer (thanks, Charlie!). Yay - I can now post comments on my favourite blogs again, and access Shaw and Rogers websites, and I have a new-to-me piece of photography software installed so I can mess with my photos in more complex ways once I figure it out (thanks, Judy!).

Tomorrow two-legged Charlie returns home, flying out of Nanaimo – so I’m keeping fingers crossed that the snow doesn’t materialize. Who knows, with our crazy weather this week he could be grounded by a blizzard.....hmmmm, on the other hand, where is that “To Do” list I’ve been meaning to show him??????

Afternoon Delights

2011-11-11T21:26:00.000-08:00

Autumn leaves, November 11, 2011

The shorter, darker days of late fall and winter have always been a challenge for me. Both my body and my spirit tend to feel the weight of winter, a reaction referred to by the medical profession as SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). When I was still working for pay, I hated going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark, a mole forever underground surrounded by damp, oppressive dirt.

But now that I am retired, and can make a point of being outside whenever the opportunity arises to catch a bit of light, a breeze, a patch of blue sky, I am finding new wonders in the shortening days.

Boat in the Bay

Ducks on an autumn afternoon

This week, it is the afternoon light which mesmerizes me - at three in the afternoon, the clouds reflect in the rippling water;

Clouds in the water

Ripples in the afternoon

By four, the dusk creates a marine bas relief, and the juxtaposition of dying foliage against ever-changing seascape begs for capture by the camera's lens:

Seedhead in fall

Even in death, the flowers are beautiful and offer the promise of new life come spring. The colourful leaves, too, are finally losing their grasp on the boughs to which they cling. This afternoon, a wind and rainstorm tore through the area, ripping leaves from the trees and sending them scurrying down the street and across the waters.

In the aftermath of the storm, I discover a dragonfly lying amid the leaves, life sucked away yet seemingly uninjured. I later learn that the lifespan of an adult dragonfly is less than six months, so perhaps it died a natural death. I am fascinated by the opportunity to look at it so closely - it is over three inches long, iridescent body, gossamer wings with a single black dot on the edge of each.

Dragonfly with gossamer wings

Wings more beautiful than Swarovski crystal

But most surprising of all was the face:

Dragonfly happyface

No graphic artist or cartoonist could ever create an insect's face that so instaneously makes one smile back at it. He must have enjoyed his very short life, I think, to look so happy in death.

By five it is almost dark and I am home with my blinds drawn, soft music on, cocooning with my critters and shutting out the world.

I could get used to this. At least for a couple of months.

Hiking without dogs - Kinsol Trestle

2011-11-07T11:11:00.000-08:00

Kinsol Trestle, Fall 2011

Once upon a time I was an avid hiker and backpacker. A serious accident in the mid-nineties put end to that, and most of the walks or gentle hikes I've done since have been with the dogs. Recently, those walks have been reduced to slow gentle strolls along the beach as my old dogs can no longer do anything more.

Saturday, after taking Sadie for a walk along the shore line, taking Charley for her little crawl around the block, and checking out a local art show, I decided to capitalize on the fall weather and head for the hills sans canines.* Being a weekend, I was pretty sure my destination would also attract enough other hikers, walkers, cyclists, and equestrians to keep me safe from bears, cougars and two legged beasts. I stuffed some supplies in my daypack and headed out for the Cowichan Valley Trail (part of the Trans Canada Trail system) and Kinsol Trestle, near Shawnigan Lake about forty-five minutes south west of here. The weather inland was overcast and misty, but not sufficiently wet to deter me.

The Trans Canada Trail is 16,000 kilometer trail (many parts still under construction) which winds through every province and territory. Once completed, it will be the largest trail of its kind in the world.

The Cowichan Valley Trail section is 120 km, much of it on former railway beds, making for flat, easy walking through beautiful forests, alongside lakes and rivers, and connecting community to community. The trail accommodates walking, cycling and horseback riding - no motorized vehicles (thank goodness). **

Kinsol Trestle, also known as Koksilah River Trestle, is a wooden railway trestle crossing the Koksila River. The original trestle was completed in 1920, at 144 ft high and 617 feet long - the largest wooden trestle in the Commonwealth and one of the highest railway trestles in the world.

It's a long way down!

In 1979, the last train crossed the aging structure, and a year later it was abandoned. In 2007, the Cowichan Valley Regional District looked at restoring the trestle and the community rallied to the challenge of raising funds, finding partners, and volunteering. The newly restored trestle, true to its original roots in structure and material, reopened to the public this summer, connecting north and south sections of the Trans Canada Trail on Vancouver Island.

I started at the south end, as that is the designated 'public access' end, though I have since found out the north end is just as accessible and certainly closer for me. After an easy 20 minute walk in, on a wide, flat path through towering evergreens, I reached the trestle where volunteers were busy doing some restoration projects on the ground and paths around the base of the trestle. A film crew was also present - they have been following its restoration story from day one for a TV promotional documentary about the Trans Canada Trail. (One day you may see my smiling face on TV, as they grabbed me for an impromptu interview! )

I also ended up chatting with the videographer for about half an hour, and learned much more about the fascinating area than I could have ever learned online - from the thrill of seeing a herd of elk just over the hill while they were in a helicopter filming the five cranes lifting the timbers for the trestle, to the significance of the Roman numerals carved into the old timbers, construction marks bearing information of incline and curve so the finished structure would enable the trains to make the 3% grade hauling a full load.

Roman Numberals in old timber tell a story

While the new construction currently sticks out like a bit of a sore thumb in the wilderness, the steel used was specifically designed to discolour to look old, and the newer timbers used where the old ones were not restorable will soon age to blend in better with the surrounding timber. Ground cover will re-grow, and the paths to the bottom will hopefully protect the slopes and riverside from human damage.

The towering trestle, from part way down.

After photographing it from every angle, and climbing to the bottom and back up not once but three times (each time seeing a better place to shoot from or something else worthy of shooting), I was tempted by a sign on a more rustic trail – one which had been used as a bypass trail during construction. I followed this for a while, enjoying the beautiful river, trees, sound of birds, and occasional chat with other hikers.

Rain forest

Fall scene on Koksilah River

A wee little river for such a huge trestle!

Towering evergreens of the Cowichan Valley

I returned to the trestle and headed along the Cowichan Valley Trail north to the road where I would park if I approached the trestle from the Duncan end, then backtracked south again to return to my car and head home. Four hours of outdoor tromping has me eager to do more of the same, or to haul the bike out of the shed and cycle the trail as far as time allows.

While walking with the dogs will continue to be my first priority in the outdoors, I think the Elder College walking and gentle hiking groups will have a new member when the spring program commences in March.

It was an amazing day.

* Dogs are allowed on the Cowichan Valley Trail and Kinsol Trestle, but are supposed to be kept onleash. Sadly, not everyone honors this, and while I was there a black and white lab cross failed to return to its owner and is still missing today.

** The information on the trails and trestle was paraphrased from the signs posted in the area. More information can be found at www.kinsoltrestle.ca and at the CVRD website.

Amazing Autumn Days

2011-11-04T23:39:00.000-07:00

Morning Mist Rising

The glorious fall weather and the vibrant gold and red autumn colours continue to last – I am almost afraid to write about it lest I jinx it. From sunrises and early morning mists, to afternoon blue skies and crisp temperatures, to evening stillness and bright starry skies – it has been simply incredible.

On Wednesday evening, Sadie and I take a stroll at dusk along the Crofton Sea walk. I laugh at the hooded mergansers with their helmet-like heads, crests up, bobbing and chattering on the evening tide. It is almost too dark to catch them on camera and they are a bit far away. Perhaps I will get a better shot another day.

Hooded Mergansers

Suddenly I see another sight which causes me to sharply draw in my breath –a large trumpeter swan floating in the bay, his black beak shining, his glistening white feathers with wingtips raised like the swans of my childhood storybooks. It is too dark to get his picture now. I have been reading The Tiger's Wife by Tea Obreht, and I can't help but think it is moments such as this, unexpectedly sighting a lone swan on a moonlit bay, which inspire such writers of mythology.

Today, once again, it was too nice to stay indoors – too nice to even putter around the yard doing house and garden maintenance. I grabbed the camera and headed out in the car with Sadie, ostensibly to run some errands but really just to marvel at the amazing scenery.

The road from Crofton to Duncan is not only full of colour from the leaves – reds and golds, browns and burnished yellows and almost springlike greens among them – but also lined with orange pumpkins.

Pumpkin Alley

This is an annual post-Hallowe’en tradition – everyone takes their carved squash and leaves them along the sides of the road. There are, literally, dozens if not hundreds of them, stretching for miles. The grinning orbs bring a smile to the faces of passersby. What strikes me is how amazing some of the carvers are. There’s not just jack-o-lanterns and jill-o-lanterns, but muppet-o-lanterns, bartsimpson-o-lanterns, and spider-o-lanterns.

Spider-o-lantern

We pick up a library book in town and head back, but decide instead to continue north to Ladysmith, to check out a beautiful walking trail I had read about. These signs, however, posted just today, deter me:

Instead, we drive a little further, to Ladysmith’s Transfer Beach Park where the trail has, I think, its endpoint. The park is overdeveloped for my liking – full of playgrounds and tennis courts and little buildings – but it is quiet enough at this time of year and there is a nice offleash area full of leaves and very nice dogs. It is also well marked with bear alert signs that had just been posted, so we didn’t wander far.

Sadie in autumn leaves

A beautiful brindle great dane pup stole my heart – 14 months old, he just wanted someone to play with him, but the dogs there were mostly very little or very old and so he frolicked around by himself, kicking up leaves as he went.

Hai! Wanna play?

We stay until the sun starts to drop behind the hills, and then head for home. As I round the final bend into Crofton and see beautiful Osborne Bay laid out before me, the gold and red trees that line Joan Avenue, and the magnificent snow covered Mt Baker in the distance, I once again find myself thinking how very blessed I am to live in this amazing place.

Osborne Bay, Crofton BC

A friend passes

2011-11-02T10:19:00.000-07:00

A Crofton sunrise - for Char

Char Nickerson is part of the reason my transition to the island was so easy even though I knew very few people here. I rented her guest suite while house hunting in Crofton, and from that moment on she made me feel welcome. She invited me to parties, made the world’s best liver treats for my dogs, shared stories over a glass or two or three of scotch. She had a big heart and a warm smile. She loved sunrises and she loved Crofton. She had lived here pretty much her whole life.

Char passed away in her sleep early this morning, after a long battle with cancer. Some would say cancer won. But Char is the real winner, for she left a mark on this community that will not be forgotten. She made a difference in the lives of many. She will be very greatly missed.

My deepest condolences to her family.

Sagacious Sadie takes over

2011-10-30T14:00:00.000-07:00

Well, my mama is ~~grumpy~~ busy and is muttering away about nasty computers and the pace of change and this modern world and all that other stuff ~~old~~ chronologically challenged people go on and on about, so I'z just gonna helps myself to the computer and show you what we'z been up to. Okay? I may not ~~rite~~ write as eloquently as my mama, but I can still post pickchures I fink.

On Thursday, my mama and me took a long, long drive. We left Charley and Allie at home (Tarben's mama and Archie's mama came over to take care of them), and we went on de big boat back to the mainland.

This time I didn't get to go see my Gran Rose like we usually do. Instead, I visited my pal Riley

Riley

and our buddy Taleah was there too, because her mama Sharon is away so she is being doggy-sat.

Taleah

Mama picked up her 2012 calendar from Auntie Deb, who is an artist. You'll see her work here.

Then we got back in the van an' went to Tisol's petstore, because they haz my vewy expensive food for $10 less a bag than what it costs on the island. Then back in the van again and drive, drive, drive, drive.....and then we was at the Piggy Lady's! Yes, Hearts on Noses sanctuary. As soon as the piggies heard my mama's voice, they came running - Scotch and Soda and all ten piglets that we fostered. 'Cept they is all big piggies now.

Hey foster mama! Where ya bin?

Derby

Handsome, smiling Papa Scotch

Hick town pig, straw in mouth.

Scotch enjoying sunshine

Hi foster mama. 'member me?

I'z as cute as ever!

An I still luvs you!

But we luvs the Piggy Lady, too!

My mama sez they look great - their skin is smooth and their hair is thick and glossy, and they is all happy happy pigs! We feds them some apples and some tomatoes (I grewed the tomatoes myself - well, wiv mama's help!), and had a quick visit, then back in the van. We drove and drove some more, stopped in to see Auntie Ann and Uncle Ken, and then mama had a visit wiv Emma, who is sorta her dog but lives at mama's old, old house wiv her dad (Emma's dad, not my mama's dad!). It waz dark by the time we got to visit her.

Emma

She still remembers all the stuff my mama taught her six or seven years ago. Here she is, showing mama that she knows how to 'stay' even when mama walks behind her.

Sit! Stay!

What a suck-up - ya wouldn't get me to do that! Heheheh!

Then we hadta make a mad dash fer the ferry so we could get back home. It waz a long, long day - 14 hours of travelling. I waz so glad to get home and see Charley, that I playbowed to her and played bitey-face and acted like a silly puppy. I waz a silly puppy - I knocked poor Charley right over wiv my exuberance! Oops!

Happy Sadie

On Friday, mama and I just slept all day long cuz we was so tired.
But yesterday was nice out, so mama and us dogs went outside to play. Or work. Mama had to finish the fence between the side and back yards. We helped:

Hey, Sadie - does this look right to you?

Nope, looks likes something's missing!

I can hop right through this!

She sez she was getting to that, but we thinks she thought she was done. Good thing we showed her what to do!

Okay, the concrete is set and the post is straight.

That's better, this looks solid!

All done!

Um, mama??? You forgots me!

Here I am!

Today mama is being lazy again. She is reading mostly. She hazn't even taken me for a walk yet, though I think she will soon because this morning's rain has stopped and it is sunny right now. But she also has to do more work on the gutters because the gutter seal didn't work. She shoulda let us inspect it. We coulda showed her how to do it!

Luv, Sadie.

Blogger friends - Can you comment?

2011-10-28T08:47:00.000-07:00

For the past few days, I've found myself unable to comment on a few Blogger blogs I've always been able to comment on before (Evensong and Karen, yours were among them - can't remember which others). (Note to non-bloggy people. When I use the term Blogger here, I'm referring to the trademark name of the site which hosts my blog). When I type my comment and move to 'select profile', the drop down box doesn't work, but of course I can't comment without selecting a profile - there's no other option. Has anyone else experienced this and figured out how to resolve it. I have changed absolutely nothing on my computer.

(Note: I don't always get the 'select profile' request from Blogger - some Blogger blogs allow me to just enter my comment and automatically put in my name and link to my own blog.)

Anyway, I went to Blogger Help and see that people have been asking that same question for several months, and the only responses are so full of technobabble that I don't have a clue what they are talking about.

If one of you have faced and conquered this challenge, please let me know how to make that drop down box drop down!!!

I'm not sure what my own blog asks people to do in order to comment, but if you are unable to post a comment on this blog, please try the 'email me' button on the right to let me know.

Misty mornings, must-have tools, and the cleanest gutters in town!

2011-10-25T22:30:00.000-07:00

This sunny, crisp fall weather has me energized and active - I wish it could stay like this all year round! I decided to make the most of the great weather by doing some much-needed maintenance around the yard. I'd already washed all the windows and screens and turned the last of the veggie beds under for the winter, but there were other tasks I've procrastinated on for a couple of years.

Ever since buying the house, I've had gutters that drip right by the front door and right in front of the gate - not very inviting to visitors on a rainy day, and darned dangerous when the temperatures drop below freezing. As well, the downspout right by my bedroom window was missing the top section and the resulting river of water pouring straight down onto the ground drove me crazy every time it rained.

What's wrong with this picture?

And then the fence between my side and back yards was falling apart, the gate no longer closed, and the gate post wobbled badly (of course, this could have something to do with its location next to the missing downspout!).

Old fence and gate tied together with twine

But first a walk to the ocean with Sadie. The Sea Walk was very frosty, so I opted not to go there as frost on old wood is incredibly slippery. But the rising sun still made the walk to the wharf worthwhile:

Morning sunrise at Crofton wharf

Then off to Duncan to buy the materials for the day's projects. But enroute I get sidetracked when I come across a surreal scene of misty meadows - thankfully I have my camera in my bag:

Photos taken, materials purchased, and it's back home to work.

Over the years, I have become convinced there is some sort of code of secrecy among men when it comes to doing 'guy stuff' and the tools one needs. Yesterday, when I made a first run for some supplies, I asked one of the Home Depot salesmen for some assistance selecting what I needed. When I got home, I discovered they'd steered me wrong - two wrong gutter parts and the wrong kind of cement for the post. And when I asked how to avoid denting the metal gutters with the ladder, I was told it would be fine, just put the ladder near the little spacers on the gutter. NOT - been there, done that! What they didn't tell me was what I found out online last night - I needed these amazing, fantabulous, not-even-expensive (Less than $30 including tax) things called ladder stand-offs, aka "painters' wings". How could I have not learned about these in forty years of cleaning gutters and putting up Christmas lights???

Painters' wings

They are now one of my favourite tools - right up there with my power mitre saw. They made the job of cleaning the gutters a breeze - very stable, easy to work around, and no crushed gutters! I'm thinking the previous owner hadn't known about them either, because the gutters on the carport (where there is no wall to rest a ladder) looked like they had never been done - two inches of muck and a good inch of thick moss! Now my gutters are squeeky clean, and it took me less than two hours to do the whole house.

The cleanest gutters in town!

Once the gutters were cleaned, I scraped away layer after layer of four different types of sealant and re-did all the joints. Hopefully I did them well enough - my skills with the caulking gun and gutter sealant leave much to be desired. The new downspout is now properly attached (which is more than can be said for the existing downspouts, each one mounted to the cross piece with the screws facing the wrong way and therefore obstructing the flow of gunk! I guess next year I'll think about taking them all apart and doing them correctly.)

All fixed!

I decided to salvage the gate post - it is sunk deep in the soil and the wood is still good enough for the little weight it has to support. I just dug a wide hole around its base and filled it with cement, attached my handy-dandy post level to get it 'just so', added some temporary support braces, and covered it with plastic to let the concrete cure. Charley inspected the work, and pronounced it a fine job.

Inspector Charley

If the weather holds, I shall build the fence and new gate tomorrow, or at least get a start on it. The cedar is piled in the yard, the power mitre saw just needs to be carried out of the shed, and my 18V Hitachi drill/driver and favourite Kiwi screws are at the ready.

Someone once told me that there are only two things a woman living alone must have to do any 'guy job' - duct tape and WD 40. If it moves and it shouldn't, use duct tape; if it doesn't move and it should, use WD40. That advice has served me well. I think, though, that I would add a few more things to that 'must have' list - a power drill/driver, a power mitre saw and circular saw, safety glasses, a bunch of screws, a ladder, and some painters' wings. Yup, that'll about do it. Unless you are setting fence posts, in which case a post level is mighty nice to have, too.

And with those few tools and some internet research, there ain't nuthin' we gals can't do! I am woman; hear me roar!

Colour My World

2011-10-23T20:34:00.000-07:00

Each season brings me new delights - the first snowfall of winter, the first crocuses poking through the earth in spring, the first tomatoes to ripen in summer. But no season brings me greater joy than autumn, when colour engulfs me - fall flowers still blooming, green grass still growing, and the best and most beautiful of all - the trees. I am consumed with happiness. Perhaps it is because red and yellow are my favourite colours, so cheerful, so bright, so joyous.

Only in autumn can a short fifteen minute drive from Crofton to Chemainus on a Sunday afternoon become an hour of awe and wonder as I stop every few minutes to inhale the splendor of the world around me:

Old wooden bridge on Chemainus Road

Chemainus cemetery

How can one tree - one leaf - hold so many beautiful shades on its palette?

I think October must be Mother Nature's Christmas, when she decorates her trees in crimson and gold, and strings shimmering strands of sunlight among them.

When the sun shines in mid-October

2011-10-20T11:02:00.000-07:00

...we go out and enjoy it. Which is why I haven't blogged anything all week. The weather has been gorgeous!

We've been busy ...

Harvesting the last of the garden and putting it to bed for the winter:

Peppers

Spaghetti Squash

Everbearing Strawberries

Tomatoes yet to ripen

Fertilizing and deadheading the fall flowers:

Wandering neighbourhood garage sales and buying beautiful handmade pottery for a song (or fifty cents, in monetary terms!):

Walking the sea walk in the early morning mist:

Taking photos around town to illustrate our next column in the Courier:

Watching the birds find warm little places for the winter:

And watching the birds watching themselves:

I'm so beautiful!

And by the time we come back inside we are just too pooped to party - or even blog.

Charley: Excuse me, but that's where I want to sleep!

Georgi: But I am a guest, and you must be nice to me!

Goodnight!

Getting to know you....

2011-10-15T20:24:00.000-07:00

Georgi B.

Getting to know you,

Getting to know all about you,

Getting to like you,

Getting to hope you like me too.......

(Rodgers and Hammerstein, 1951)

I have always liked this song from the broadway hit The King and I, and today its cheerful melody was running through my mind as I got to know our newest visitor.

Georgi lives with my friends Gail and Jim, but is staying with me for a few days while they are out of town. I have, of course, met Georgi many times before, she knows my dogs and cat, and gets along just fine with all of them. This is, however, the first time her folks have left her here - indeed the first time she has been left overnight anywhere - so this sweet senior Cavalier King Charles Spaniel ( I think I got that right) is on an adventure. And getting to know her is lots of fun.

She began by wandering into the bedroom and anointing the rug five minutes after Gail left. My fault -- I should have immediately taken her outside into the back yard knowing she might be a bit taken aback seeing her mom leave without her. Ah well, we are used to accidents around here, and I needed to haul the carpet cleaner out today anyway to finish removing a stain one of my girls left behind the other day. Next, she tested out each of Charley's beds:

Hmmmm.....too hard!

This is better!

That didn't impress Charley in the least. Charley voiced her protest by choosing the most inconvenient and uncomfortable place to lie:

Poor me, poor poor me!

Georgi wasn't sure about having a nap in a relatively strange place, so after watching her hop from bed to bed to bed, and letting her into the back yard numerous times, I decided a walk to the beach might be just the ticket for sweet little Georgi.

Georgi loves water. She LOVES water. Gail had already told me this, so I packed a towel and a longline in my bag and off we went. She couldn't quite figure out the seawalk - she could see the water, but not how to reach it down there below us.

oh my oh my oh my

But soon we reached the berm and her face lit up with anticipation,

WATER!!!!

so I snapped on the longline and tossed a stick for her - into the ocean she went, happy as a clam....or a duck....or an oystercatcher in water.

I'll get it! I'll get it!

Ahhhhh! So relaxing!

She let me know when she was ready to come out,

I lost my stick.....may as well go home now.

so I dried her off and we headed home, where we discovered Charley had decided turn about was fair play - she had squeezed herself into Georgi's little bed and was fast asleep!

I don't care if it's too small - if she's gonna steal my beds, I'm gonna steal hers!

All that walking and swimming had worn Georgi out, so she headed straight for Charley's favourite spot in the afternoon sunbeam, and went right to sleep.

She awoke just long enough to eat her dinner and use the backyard facilities, and headed right back to bed. I do believe she had a very good first day.

Welcome, Georgi, we look forward to getting to know you more tomorrow.

Charley's day at the beach

2011-10-13T22:39:00.000-07:00

From the time she was a little pup, Charley has always loved to gaze at the water. Whether out camping and fishing with me, or visiting my sister in her lakeside home, or sharing fish and chips with my mom on a beach, Charley was always happy to hunker down and gaze at the water for as long as I cared to let her. Never a swimmer, not one to chase balls or frisbees, and not even much of a hiker, her favourite pasttime by far is gazing at a natural body of water on a pleasant spring or autumn day.

Charley has been having a rough week and so I wanted some special one-on-one time with her. This morning after taking Sadie for her walk I grabbed a warm jacket, bundled Charley into the car, and drove her down to Crofton Beach Park. It is a relatively secluded little park with a small white sandy beach just a few minutes from home.

Crofton Beach Park, looking back towards town

At the moment the park is only accessible by road or by walking through a very, very mucky section of beach at low tide, but this will soon change as construction is about to begin on an extension of the Sea Walk which will take Croftonites and tourists all the way around the bay and connect the main beach area to the park. But I digress.

It was my favourite type of morning - a chilly autumn day, air crisp and leaves colourful, with the sunshine promising to break through the clouds and the birds calling raucously across the bay. I lifted Charley from the car, she tottered across the grass and down to the sand, where she spent a few minutes investigating the myriad of smells.

We walked a short distance along the twisting shore, discovering beautiful scenes at every turn.

Soon Charley gave the beach her nod of approval, and settled down on the sand where we watched the oystercatchers converse with the ducks,

Excuse me, but I think we were here first!

Well, I'm outta here!

and a seagull with a clam fly high in the air and drop his find to the rocks below, then swoop down again to claim his prize.

Charley's ears told me she was taking it all in - the birds, the soft lapping of waves on shore, the occasional crack of a clam shell falling, the rustle of autumn leaves in the trees above us.

Could ya get that camera outta my face?

We sat there for a couple of hours, just Charley and I, just as we have done on so many shores for so many years. A young pup, a middle-aged collie, and now an old dog and her human companion, still enjoying quiet moments together with nature.

Just me and my dog, enjoying the beach

Magical Places

2011-10-11T22:43:00.000-07:00

Country roads

One thing I love about the island is the varied terrain and scenery - in a matter of moments one can drive from seaside, across flat lands of green and yellow fields, along winding narrow country lanes, past little lakes that dot the landscape, through hills and into mountains.

In the process of running everyday errands, I often find myself sighing at the beauty before me. The island is full of magical places.

I have passed one such place many times, and on Sunday when I was going to meet Piggy-Sue and Sophie-Lyn, I finally stopped to photograph it. It begins at a place called Cowichan Station,whose recorded history dates back to 1862. A short drive down a narrow winding road, and the magic begins.

First, the stone railway underpass comes into view,

the rolling hills framed in the distance.

Then a small church with its cemetary pops into view - I wonder how many generations of locals have been buried there?

And a one-lane bridge crosses a river:

I park the car and walk back across the wooden passenger walkway along one side of the structure,

And gaze at the beauty of the river and the trees in their autumn dresses.

To my surprise, I find a little park on the other side - I have never noticed it before.

I sit awhile at the picnic table, and enjoy watching the golden leaves drift gently to the river below.

I continue on my journey, past fields of green, and head into the hills to the pigs' new home.

There's pigs in them thar hills!

These images all occur within a few hundred yards of each other - and everywhere I travel on this island of mine I find magical spots like this.

I truly can't imagine a better, more beautiful place to live.

There's lots to be thankful for......

2011-10-09T23:43:00.000-07:00

But today I am especially thankful that two more unwanted potbellied pigs have found safety here on the island!

Sophie-Lyn and Piggy-Sue

The story begins several months ago, when an SPCA staff member gave my contact info to one of their horse foster moms, who had expressed interest in fostering or adopting a potbellied pig or two. As most readers here know, I volunteer with Hearts on Noses potbellied pig sanctuary. The sanctuary is located in Mission, BC, where I used to live and to foster for them. I'm now their Vancouver Island liaison.

Kimberly filled in the application form, I did the homecheck, we visited with another pig adopter, and Kim and Brent began building a home for the pigs that would eventually arrive.

Piggy Palace, almost complete

Meanwhile, back at the ranch - er, sanctuary - Janice, who owns the sanctuary, received a phone call from some people in the Okanagan who wanted to get rid of their pigs. Although Janice had no room at the sanctuary she agreed to see what she could do. Once someone decides they don't want their pigs anymore, you just know it's not gonna have a good ending unless someone who cares steps up to the plate. Thankfully, Janice is someone who cares.

And so is Kimberly. Yesterday, on very short notice and on the Canadian thanksgiving long weekend, she hauled her horse trailer across to the mainland and up to Hope, where the pigs were transfered from the previous owner's vehicle to hers, and then she hauled them home.

Almost home!

Home to ten acres, with a charming log-cabin pig house built just for them and stuffed full of fresh straw, and their own little yard full of trees and greenery and dirt and rocks, and a little pool where they can splash, and some shavings for their potty area.

As is so often the case with animal surrenders, the pigs were nowhere near as healthy as we had been led to believe. Their nails have obviously not been cut for several years - some are 3-4 inches long, and they have difficulty walking because of it.

Overgrown nails

Piggy-Sue has a distinct limp and a deformed or injured back foot which will be looked at by a vet as soon as possible. Both are very overweight, Sophie particularly so, with her belly dragging on the ground and the rolls of fat around her face bringing her dangerously close to being fat-blind.

Sophie-Lyn, overweight and nearly fat-blind

They are somewhat dehydrated, with very scaly skin and teeny tiny hard balls of poops. They have been fed a diet of hogfeed instead of potbellied pig feed, and bakery goods instead of veggies and fruits. Even though they are owner-surrenders, they truly were in need of rescue. It's unlikely they would have survived in this shape for too much longer - certainly not for a normal pig lifespan.
On the plus side, they are social girls and they handled the transport well. They are vocal, chatting with each other and making appreciative grunts in response to lettuce, strawberries, tomatoes, and other piggy delights.

Chowing down on healthy stuff

Yum! Salad!

Sophie-Lyn loves to be scratched and stroked, and Peggy-Sue, who is a little more shy, doesn't seem to mind being touched either.

Kimberly gives Sophie-Lyn a backrub

They are already exploring their new yard a little, rooting around in the greenery and scoping out the place:

Peek-a-boo!

I like it here!

The dogs came by to politely say hello, the ducks and cats stayed out of sight, and the horses watched every move from the field beyond:

Is that what I think it is? Are they gonna live here???

And so Sophie-Lyn and Piggy-Sue begin their new life. They are currently in foster with Kim, but I'm betting they've found their forever home.

Naptime

Happy Thanksgiving, Sophie-Lyn and Piggy-Sue. Happy Thanksgiving, Kimberly and Brent. I am truly thankful today for people who care about pigs.

Simple things that baffle me

2011-10-07T22:24:00.000-07:00

Puzzle Number One Today I bought a safety jacket for the dogs, so they will be visible when I walk them on a winter's evening. It is very simple - some orange mesh, two narrow pieces of reflective tape, and one piece of elastic with a snap closure.

Dog safety vest

So why did it cost $27.99 plus tax, when the safety jacket I bought for myself last year - with tons of reflective tape, velcro adjustments, pockets, the works - cost less than ten dollars???

People safety vest, front

People safety vest, back

Both are made in Canada, so the price difference doesn't reflect child labour or cheap environmentally-unfriendly production practices of countries that regularly import cheap goods to Canada. I'm baffled.

Well, it's pretty obvious to me - I look so much cuter in mine that you do in yours.
Ya gotta pay more for 'cute', ya know!

Puzzle Number Two: Today I bought two boxes of low sodium chicken broth, by the same company, in exactly the same packaging, bought at the same time from the same shelf of the grocery store.

So why does one have 15 calories per cup, and 80 mg of sodium, while the other has only 10 calories and 45 mg sodium, as well as differences in fat and carb counts?

I did find one minor difference in the ingredient list: one contains tumeric and the other rosemary. But really - that much difference in the caloric and sodium content just because of an herb?

Puzzle Number Three: Today I bought a new Waterpik showerhead to replace a not-so-cheap plastic one that is cracked and leaking after only two years. Like a good consumer, I carefully opened the package and pulled out the instructions, even though I was pretty sure (having done this many times before) that I could change the showerhead without reading them. Well! It was a good thing I read them, because the very first symbol was one I've never encountered before:

No Dope????? What the heck does that mean? I shouldn't smoke the funny stuff while installling the showerhead? Dopes shouldn't install showerheads?

In hindsight, they should have put the symbol on the outside of the packaging. Then perhaps this dope wouldn't have bought the wrong darn showerhead.

Postscript: As I was returning the showerhead to the store tonight, along a dark country lane, I caught a glimpse of movement on the left shoulder of the road. I slowed to a crawl, expecting to see one of the many island deer grazing there. Instead, a huge owl with a medium sized bunny in its talons swooped gracefully through my headlights, just inches from the front of the car. It was so close I could see every bit of feather and fur. While I felt sorry for the bunny, the moment was nothing less than surreal. The image of owl and rabbit spotlighted in the night sky, two bodies flying in tandom under the owl's broad wings, is forever burned into my mind's eye. Thank goodness for shopping mistakes that take me out on country roads at night. It was absolutely magical.

Sometimes ya just gotta go for a walk!

2011-10-06T22:21:00.000-07:00

I've been limiting my time on the computer this week, trying to catch up on a bunch of little chores that I have let slide, things that are now starting to bug me.

However, I'm not making much progress - a quick trip to the mainland Sunday for my mom's 93rd birthday,

Happy 93rd, Mom!

was followed by my writing group Monday afternoon and my book club Monday evening. Can someone explain why hours and hours of ferry and car travel, followed by a day of sitting around chatting with friends leaves me more exhausted than working full time while looking after 12 piggies, an alpaca, four dogs and a cat ever did??? Tuesday was a write-off!

Wednesday morning I cleaned the hall runner which Charley had annointed with runny poop, only to have her annoint it again that afternoon. And the fleas that I thought I had conquered last week made a re-appearance (albeit on a much smaller scale) so it was back to vacuum, vacuum, vacuum, launder, launder, launder. So much for making any progress on the 'to do' list on Wednesday.

This morning I awoke to a beautiful fall morning - cool and crisp, a light blanket of fog, hints of sunshine to come. I took Charley for a little walk and enjoyed the volunteer flowers in the back lane and the mist rising off the hills.

Flower blooms in back lane

Mist rises off hills

By the time we returned, the sun was streaming through the windows - revealing the urgency of one of the tasks on my list: must wash windows! If I got right at it, I had time to do all the windows and screens before getting ready for my shift at the theatre in the afternoon.

I looked at the windows. I looked at Sadie. I looked at the ocean and the sunshine and the rainbow of leaves lining the streets. And I put back the bucket and cloths and squeegee and said - C'mon Sadie, we're going to the beach!

A sunny Thursday morning at the beach

And I'm glad we did. The air had the wonderful salty smell that I love, the beach was full of ducks and geese and oyster catchers and gulls all flying and swooping as they dined on fresh-caught oysters and clams and fishies and who knows what else. The sunshine was warm but not too warm, the breeze was light, the trees and bushes were resplendent in fall colour, and Sadie was feelin' good, happy to trot along as far as I wanted to go.

Sadie on the beach

Heron and boat

Geese, ducks and gulls

We spent a long time just watching a gull battle a fish head along the shoreline - dragging it 25 feet one way, then 25 feet back again, splashing and pecking and shaking and tugging as he ripped tasty morsel after tasty morsel from its frame.

Sadie was quite happy to watch with me, and the gull seemed unperturbed by our presence.

Sadie watching gull with fish

Two hours later we returned home - too late to do the windows, but oh so glad to be alive. It sure is beautiful out there. Even if I'm looking at the world through panes of dirty glass.

Do you know what day this is??????

2011-10-01T06:53:00.000-07:00

It's Lucy's pups FIRST BIRTHDAY!

Yes, it has been one year since that momentous day when my SPCA foster dog, Lucy, produced the pups that would practically be my undoing for the next seven weeks.

And now they are one year old . At birth, they weighed from 13 ounces to one pound four ounces; by seven weeks they ranged from about 7 pounds to nearly 16 pounds. And when a few of the adopters checked in about three months ago, their pups weighed 70-80 pounds! This from a 45 pound, short legged, funny little corgi-something-cross.

Lucy, September 29,2010

Hahaha foster mama - I got you good!

Ms Lucy knew which side her bread was buttered on, and chose to relinquish all mothering duties (including feedings) by the end of the second week. What a shock that was!

Goodbye, I'm outta here! You can look after them.

I don't think I can sum up the experience better than I did on the day the pups left my care at seven weeks of age,and so I am reprinting that blog entry here:

They emerged over a ten hour period on the first day of October, 2010, wrinkled and wet and searching for food. From a mom who looked like a butternut squash, ten pups emerged round and robust and raring to go.

And then they grew.

They crawled, they waddled, they walked, they climbed. They ran and pounced and pooped and peed. They wrestled and snuggled, they nipped and they chewed.

In just seven weeks, they went through over a hundred pounds of kibble, a dozen rolls of paper towel, three giant size boxes of green garbage bags, a van load of newspaper, three dozen cans of puppy food, eight litres of evaporated milk, three dozen egg yolks, thirty-six packages of gelatin, a bottle of enzyme supplement, twenty syringes of dewormer, six tubs of yoghurt, four boxes of pablum, a cup of corn syrup, three tarps, several pieces of lumber, ten collars, and a never-ending supply of blankets, sheets, towels, detergent, cleansers, air freshner, disposable gloves, and toys. Add to that a half dozen trips to the dump with the soiled papers, a pair of doggy diapers and three boxes of liners for mama Lucy, and of course the meat, broth, oatmeal, rice, eggs and supplements for Lucy’s homecooked food when her intestines couldn’t handle any kibble.

They kept me up night after night, and they left me so exhausted that sleep, when it happened, was deep and dreamless.

My washer and dryer were constantly running, the dishes were always piled high, the counters and table were cluttered with puppy paraphernalia, and there was never more than an hour or two when the floor was poop-and-pee-free.

They squealed, they squeaked, they barked and they growled, they howled and yipped and whined and grumbled.

They tried my patience, and they touched my heart. They made me laugh, and they brought me to tears.

They worried me sick, and they forced me to grow. They helped me define my limitations and know where my strengths in rescue lie. And it isn’t with puppies.

An army of wonderful people became my life-line. SPCA volunteers, neighbours, members of my community donated time and goods which helped me retain my sanity and live within my budget. And there were the professionals: the emergency vet whose voice on the phone guided me through delivering a stuck pup, my own vet who answered my email questions and reassured me when my confidence faltered, the SPCA vet who helped Lucy with her mastitis and intestinal troubles, and the staff at the SPCA who entrusted me with their care, and ultimately will have the responsibility of selecting appropriate homes for the pups and Lucy. To all these people, I am eternally grateful. It was, in so many ways, a joint effort.

And now the squealing, barking, whining, howling, running, pouncing, playing Butternut Squash Kids are moving on.

May their future families be committed to them forever, love them, teach them, feed them healthy food, nurture them, protect them, exercise their bodies and their minds, and share their living space with them. May not one of the pups ever end up in a shelter, may they never be homeless, may they never know fear or pain or hunger or insecurity. May they always be as safe and healthy and happy as they are today; may they truly be part of a family.

I cannot say with honesty that I will miss them, but I will certainly always remember them.

(My Life with the Critters, November 21, 2010. (c) JFB )

And here's a few of the thousands of photos I took while they were in my care:

One week old

Puppy Love

I'm lonely!

Mr. Blue Eyes

Puppy Nose

Pablum Face

Good friends

Cud you feeds me?

Dinner time, about four weeks old

I'z got a paper hat!

Future Model

Play time

Peanut and Lucy

Pumpkin, party animal!

Hubbard being coy

Summer gives a 'high five"

Patty with her white chin

Bo, posing for the camera

Zuke and his ball

Acorn in basket

Deli sits pretty

Nugget ready for a nap

It was quite the experience. You'll find more stories of the pups, both humour and horror, by browsing through the entries from October 1 to November 21, 2010. Stories of Lucy begin September 11, 2010 until December 31, 2010. Updates on some of the pups, from their adopters, can be found here, and here and here and here and here and here and here.

Happy Birthday, Butternut Squash Kids. I hope you are all safe, happy, and very well loved.

Lazy Day

2011-09-29T22:32:00.000-07:00

My good friends, Ann and Ken, were planning to come to the island for a visit starting today, but phoned this morning to say they had developed bad colds and thought it wisest to postpone the visit. So....I had a clean house, a well-stocked fridge, laundry all done, and nothing written into the next four calendar days.

It was a beautifully sunny morning, so I did give some thought to taking off in the van to explore a couple of places I haven't been yet, but between the price of gas and Charley's health, I decided just to hang around home. Sort of.

I took each of the dogs for a short morning walk. And a short afternoon walk. And a short evening walk. And, as has been our custom lately, we may even go for a short late night walk. (There is something incredibly relaxing about walking around our small village after the sidewalks have been rolled up and the villagers are all fast asleep. Not a single car, not a sound to be heard except the barking of the sea lions out on the reef. Love it!)

In the back lane a block over, we kept encountering this cat, sentry of the back lane, watching us watching him. And just like the Guards at Buckingham Palace, he never moved a muscle or blinked an eye as we walked past.

Back lane sentry duty

Fruit is still plentiful in the backlanes of Crofton,with apples and plums, grapes and blackberries cascading over fences. One surprise was this cherry tree still loaded with fruit at the end of September!

And I was taken by surprise to see this very colourful shed peering over the brick wall - I swear it was brown last time I passed by. The owners of the house are summerfolks, only using the house for their summer vacations and the occasional long weekend, and I know they left just before Labour Day. When did they paint the shed? Surely I could not have missed anything THIS bright?

In between walks, I didn't do much of anything though somehow I seemed to be busy all day. I did play with the camera at dusk, trying to get interesting pictures on the macro setting with the flash and some background-softening settings.

Everbearing Strawberry continues to bloom

I took about a dozen photos of one beautiful blossom. I found shadows were a bit problematic as the flash sometimes didn't light up the whole blossom:

I had better luck when I photographed the last blossom from below, but then didn't capture the full shape and beautiful colours of the centre:

When I widened the angle, to include other flowers, I had a bit more luck:

But my favourite photo of the day was this one:

La Belle Rose

It is Belle's rose. And I thought the bugs and mold this year had killed it. You can see the dead stems and leaves in the background. Yet sometime in the last couple of days, one solitary, perfect flower was born. Hi Belle, how're ya doing? Thanks for letting me know you're only a rosebud away!

The Rainbow Day

2011-09-28T11:15:00.000-07:00

We awoke to bright sunshine and the promise of a great day. There were low clouds on the horizon, and a few hovering over the hills, but nothing to alert us to the strange weather to come. Sadie and I trotted out for our first walk of the day - and half way through, the fine drops of rain began to fall from a seemingly blue sky. As I glanced to the west, I saw two beautiful rainbows appear, forming a double arc which seemed to dip its toes in Crofton Lake at one end and Chemainus Lake at the other.

Of course, my camera batteries were dead and I'd not brought the spare.

By the time we returned home, and I started out again with Charley - and fresh batteries for the camera - the rainbow had begun to fade:

No matter. For the rest of the day, the Cowichan Valley was treated to bright sunshine, refreshing rain, and brilliant rainbows everywhere. I saw rainbows over Quamichan Lake as I drove into Duncan to run some errands, rainbows over Somenos Marsh as I filled up my car with gas, rainbows over Mt. Prevost as I negotiated the winding country roads heading home.

And rainbows on the evening walks with the dogs:

Brilliant, long lasting, sometimes doubles and sometimes singles, sometimes full arcs stretching from the north end of Salt Spring Island to the hidden coves of Maple and Genoa Bays, sometimes short bursts of colour shooting down from the heavens.

On my last walk of the day, with Sadie by my side, I wandered the beach and watched with awe as rainbows faded and stormy skies turned orange with sunset and the Sea Walk turned silver from the moon.

Shortly after we returned home, Charley had another neurological episode, bumping into walls, losing control of her bowels, disoriented. It lasted only briefly, but each episode leaves her a bit more frail than the one before. I was up with her several times in the night, yet this morning she still managed a short morning walk, a light breakfast of homemade chicken broth and rice (she is having digestive problems once again), and a rousing duet with Sadie at the school kids who dared trespass on her road. And now she is sleeping.

I can't help but wonder -- were those rainbows for her? Were they showing her the Bridge?

Or were they just to remind me that it is a beautiful world, especially when shared with cherished old dogs?

Allie's present

2011-09-25T07:34:00.000-07:00

Allie

Many moons ago, I lived in half-acre suburbia surrounded by agricultural land reserve, in a large house on a shallow crawl space. Every fall, the mice from the surrounding fields would seek warm winter quarters in the crawl space, occasionally migrating into the living area of the house. As long as we had a cat, mice were not a problem. When our old mouse-catching cat, Goose, died, it was only a matter of weeks before the mice tried to take over and we were back at the SPCA to adopt another cat - enter Allie, stage right.

Allie quickly caught on to herding errant mice, batting them about, and meowing loudly for us to come lend a hand. Even Charley got in the act, with a signature bellyflop on top of the panicky creature, squishing poor mousey and holding it in place until I could retrieve it to quickly end its misery. On the occasions that Allie played her cat-and-mouse game while I was not home, and either she or the dogs killed the mouse, I would come home to a cat meowing loudly beside a dead rodent, proud to show me her catch.

Cats showing off their catches to their owners is nothing new - I have had cats leave dead mice on my bed, bring me injured but still alive baby bunnies, and insist that I come watch them stalk out baby birds in the bushes. But Allie takes the art of stalking, killing and presenting one step further.

Allie is an indoor only cat. She has never minded this, and it keeps her safer and healthier (and keeps those little wild critters safer, too). But she obviously misses the thrill of the chase, as we don't have mice in this house built on a slab on a village lot.

So, a cat has to do what a cat has to do. I was sitting in the living room quietly reading a book and listening to music when I heard great leaps and thumps and meows coming from the mud room. I glanced down the hallway to see Allie flying around from the top of the wardrobe to the top of the freezer, down to the window sill and back up to the cubbyhole unit. I went back to my book, only to hear, five minutes later, her very insistent MEOW COME HERE I HAZ SUMTHIN TO SHOW YOU!

And there she was, sitting tall and proud beside her catch, her gift to me (of course she scooted off when I ran for the camera, so part of this image has to be left to your imagination):

Allie's gift

She caught me a cranefly. What a clever girl!