The Ebb and Flow of life

As new life emerges all around me today, with the warm sun opening blossoms everywhere I look, old life passes on. This morning I received a phone call from my friend Ellen postponing some plans we had – her parents’ dearly loved dog, Benji, was critically ill and possibly in organ failure.

Benji was adopted by Ellen’s parents when his elderly owner died about ten years ago, and quickly had them wrapped around his little paws. He was a little white fluff-ball, likely a shih tzu/llaso apso mix. In recent months, he has shown signs of Cushing’s disease. Although slowing down, Benji still appeared to be doing quite well most days.

But on last night’s walk he suddenly stopped and refused to go further. This morning he was clearly in distress and so Ellen rushed into town to help her parents take him to the vet. Sadly, his time on earth was over, and they held him in their arms while he was helped to pass.

I never met Benji, but got to know him vicariously through Ellen’s frequent stories of him. And I can only imagine the heartbreak her parents, both seniors, are feeling at his loss. Ellen and family, I am so sorry.

This is the third friend of mine who has said goodbye to a dear companion animal this week – an ironic twist of nature when so much new is springing up around us.

And that is the cycle of life – we are born, we live, we die. But our spirit lives on in the hearts of those we touched, and that enables those hearts to love still others that come after us.

I remember when Caleb was fading, how much I hoped he would live long enough to feel the warm sun on his face and smell the fresh green shoots emerge from the earth once more. It was not to be. But I do believe that spring is the best time of year to pass, because even though we are gone from our earthly place, the new life everywhere reminds those left behind that life is a continuum, the spirit is eternal, and death is just part of a greater plan.

How to make a Foster Mama feel weally, weally guilty!

By the ten little piglets.

Our foster mama waz neglecting us tonight. We usually gets our dinner between 5:30 and 6:30 pm in people time. We knows that because there is a clock in the barn an we is clever pigs and know how to tell people time.

Tonight our foster mama waz late. Fizzy snuck over to the big houz and peeked through the windows. She waz nappin’ on the couch!!!! A little while later, Tom snuck over to have a look. She waz feedin the dogs and herselfs so we thought she would be out soon. But then 7:00 came, an' then 7:30 an she STILL didn’t come out. So Lizzy ran over to take a look – Foster Mama was watching that big box thing with the moving pictures that hoomans call a telebishon.

So we sent a message to Auntie Ewwen and she helped us play a prank on Foster Mama. She phoned from a blocked number and disguised her voice and told Foster Mama that she’d received a complaint – about some starving piglets! Foster Mama thought it was for real!! We got her good!!! Hahahahahaha!!!!!

Then Foster Mama finally came outside to feed us and we played anuver prank. Usually we makes lots and lots and lots of noise when we see her. We squeak and oink and grunt and oof and squeal cause we are happy and hungry. But not tonight. When she finally came to the barn we gave her the SILENT TREATMENT. Not an oink. Not an oof. Not a squeal or squeak or grunt. Complete silence. We jest trotted into our feeding area and stood there all inna row waiting for our foods and STARING at her wiv big eyes an' vewy sad faces.

Foster Mama felt very very very badly and pwomises not to be late with our dinner again. We still was mad at her so we still didn’t make a sound and she felt so, so, so bad. She even gave us cookies wiv our supper an we’s only supposed to have them as extra special treats. We still didn’t make a sound. We is masters at guilt trips!!! Heeheeheeheehee.

After she walked the doggies, she came back an sat in the straw wiv us an we forgaves her and oofed at her while she sang to us and brushed our bristles so we all looks like preppy little school boys now (well, ‘cept Mama Soda an Lizzy – they looks like Booooty Queeens).

We hopes our Foster mama learnded her lesson an won’t neglect us ever again.

A gift that keeps on giving

When I first moved to this property, almost three years ago, my daughter gave me a unique and wonderful gift – an envelope containing hundreds of ladybugs. Together, we went into my garden and opened the envelope to set them free. The vision of hundreds of beautiful red bugs flying out of the package and across my garden is something I shall never forget.

We watched as they lit upon my flowers and shrubs, where they would keep the aphid population under control and thrive in their own natural world. And thrive they did. Last spring, and again this spring, I have been blessed with the hatching of hundreds of ladybugs – inside my house. Rarely is there a day when I am not collecting and releasing outdoors 20-30 of the beautiful bugs.

This morning I found one on my pillow as I made my bed and one was hitching a ride on Sadie’s back. Several more are climbing around the patio door, several are in the bathroom sink, and a few are checking out my one and only houseplant. I don’t mind at all, because they are my favourite bugs and even the young are quite gorgeous and grow quickly from little brown and black babies to beautiful red and black teens. In fact, it was one of my most favourite gifts ever and I think of my beautiful daughter each time I release a ladybug into my yard.

I must say, though, that I am very grateful my daughter didn’t choose to give me an envelope with hundreds of spiders. There are already enough of those, in all shapes and sizes, in this old house!

And another dear critter crosses over

Teddy Bear

Janice, of Hearts on Noses pig sanctuary, said a sad farewell to Teddy Bear this morning. Teddy Bear was brought to the sanctuary several years ago, terribly overweight and unable to see because of the rolls of fat that covered his eyes. He was crying and confused, and Janice promised to care for him for the rest of his life. That she did. Soon he was able to see the sky, to walk about the property, and to come into the house for a story or a cuddle.

I remember a day, just over a year ago, I was sitting on the step near his pen, my heart heavy with sorrow from a loss I had just experienced. As the tears rolled down my face, Teddy came out of his piggy house and sat near the gate, as close to me as he could be. He made no noise, he just sat there quietly, watching me, keeping me company while I grieved. I told him of my pain and he comforted me at a time when only the animals could comfort me and in the only way that could reach me at that particular point in my life. He was a very sensitive piggy.

Janice's heart is breaking tonight. She loved that pig so much, and he loved her too. She read him stories, she crawled into his house to give him hugs and cover him with blankets, she took the very best care of him and she will miss him terribly.

Teddy Bear, at the Bridge you will find Jingle and Erma and Willy and Barney and Charlotte and a host of others whom Janice has loved. Send her a sign, Teddy Bear, so she knows you are once again free of pain, running free in a place where the hazelnuts and apples and kiwis are plentiful, where there is lots of green grass to eat and cool fresh water to drink and sunny days that are not too hot and not too cold. Run free, Teddy Bear, run free.

Janice, I am so very, very sorry for your loss. You are in my thoughts tonight. ((((hugs))))).

Bella the Boxer, Run free old friend!

Until recently, I owned some recreational property where I spent many weekends and part of the summer holidays. While there, I got to know a couple with a beautiful boxer named Bella. I absolutely adored Bella and I think she really liked me too. The only time the couple and I talked to each other or saw each other was at that property, and I haven't been there for almost a year.

Day before yesterday, when I got home from work around 3:00 I took my dogs for a walk in the pasture as usual. Suddenly I thought of Bella and wondered if she had made it through the winter - last time I had seen her she was very old and had advanced Cushing's disease. I came into the house to see if I had the email address of the people. Then I got sidetracked so didn't follow up.

Yesterday I got a phonecall at work. It was Bella's mom. She tearfully told me Bella had passed away. I mentioned the coincidence that I had just been thinking of them. When had Bella passed away? She had been helped to pass at 3:00 the previous day.

Inceasingly I believe that if we allow ourselves to be open to it, those who have passed on can and do let us feel their presence. In this case, I have a feeling the coincidence of me thinking about Bella at the same time she was passing from this world was partly Caleb's doing. The last time I was at the rec property, I had just adopted Caleb and I introduced him to Bella. I suspect Bella's arrival at the Rainbow Bridge went something like this:

Bella: Hey I know you! You were loved by that funny woman at the creek!

Caleb: Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's me! We met last time our hoomans got together!

Bella: I like her! She always had treats in her pocket!

Caleb: Well, c'mon then! I'll show you where I lived! You can say hello to her - she's sitting on her bench at the top of the rise. C'mon, C'mon, let's go!!!

Thanks, Caleb, for bringing her by for a fleeting visit. Run free, Bella, you were a great dog and never failed to make me smile with your silly slobbery grin. Your family will miss you terribly, but they'll see you again one day at the Rainbow Bridge.

Dogs in Doorways

What is it about dogs and doorways??? I have never had a dog who did not insist on lying in the most inconvenient places possible – narrow hallways, in front of the kitchen sink, beside the bed just as I am trying to make it, and most of all – doorways.

I live in a very tiny house. My three dogs have a total of five dog beds and three crates in this very tiny house – three in the living room, three in my office, one in the bedroom and one in the kitchen. They all get used at one time or another, but it seems there is never more than one dog in a bed or crate at a time. Instead, I am constantly tripping over and stepping over furry bodies that seem to delight in blocking doorways, stretching across hallways, lying in small spaces where I need to get, or following me around with their noses right by my knees.



I have no objections to dogs sleeping on my bed. I have no objections to dogs sleeping on my couch. I certainly have no objections to dogs sleeping in their own beds or crates. But I do object to dogs sleeping in doorways and narrow hallways.



Take this morning for example:

I get out of bed, stiff with arthritis, blurry eyed without my glasses, and groggy with sleep. Step down to the 12” of space between my bed and the wall. Ooooof. Charley has taken possession of that space.

Roll over to other side of bed. Move cat who is sleeping on bed. Climb out and cautiously move around towards door, trying not to bash hip on dresser. Oooooof again. Stumble over Sadie who is stretched out on floor between foot of bed and door. Since my bedroom is all of 7’ x 9’, this means she effectively blocks the entire available space where my feet might reasonably step.

Step over Sadie. Move towards bathroom. Success. Belle is the only dog in my household who consistently sleeps in a bed or crate. Unfortunately, she is also the first one up and the most clingy. By the time I stumble back out of the bathroom, she is standing right by the door – right across the doorway – and just small enough that I don’t notice her. Oooooooof a third time.

Repeat process of climbing over dogs as I stumble back to bedroom for glasses and slippers. The process is complicated by the morning activities of Allie and Belle, who by this time are engaged in a rousing game of tag at speeds that would challenge the Indy 500.

Finally get it together, head to the kitchen for my coffee, let all the dogs out for their pee break, let them back in, wipe 12 muddy paws, and head back to my office. Belle climbs into the large crate by my desk and goes back to sleep while I check my email. The other two crates and five dogbeds remain empty. It doesn’t take long to discover where Sadie and Charley are. As I head back to the bedroom to make the bed and get ready for the day, this is what I find:


I suppose it's a good thing I have a small house with only three inside doorways. Life would become just too easy in a house with fewer dogs than doorways. I'd be stepping over mounds where none existed, just for the practice. I might even be tempted to add more dogs to my menagerie, at a ratio of one dog per doorway. Or - imagine this - I could let ten little piggies into the house to fill up the empty spaces. Now wouldn't that be fun?

Walkin' for Raven

Raven and Arez (used with permission)

Raven is a five year old girl (who just turned five this past weekend - Happy Birthday Raven!) living with cystic fibrosis. Raven’s mom, Zoe, is a staunch supporter of both the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and Bully Buddies breed rescue. In fact, Zoe is organizing a “Walkin’ for Raven: Pitbull day out” walk in Abbotsford, this Sunday April 13th, at Mill Lake Park.

What is my connection to this? Well, Zoe was also Macy's foster mom (see earlier entries this month). And Macy says she wants everyone to help Raven and help promote bully breeds. So she told me to get involved.

Bully breeds, and particularly those called pitbulls, are the media’s current “love to hate” breed. In the 1950s and 60s, it was German Shepherds who had the bad name and “everyone” feared. In the 1970s it was Doberman. In the 1980s, it was rottweillers. And now it is pitties.

There are far more animal bites and animal attacks by labs and shihtzus and other supposedly friendly, lovable breeds than by pitties. But just as happened with sheps and dobes and rotties, when you have too many ignorant people training a dog to be fierce, or breeding for size and strength and aggressiveness rather than for calm temperment, the breed gets a bad name instead of the owner. Now, people have a kneejerk reaction to the word "pitbull", and most do not even know how to recognize them – they think any dog with a particular shaped face and body is a pitbull. Try this test and see how you do. Can you pick out the pitbull?

I have met many great pitties. Caleb was a great pitty mix. So are his sisters. And on April 13th you have an opportunity to meet a bunch of great pitties – ambassadors for their breed – while doing something worthwhile for a little girl who has endured more than any one person should have to endure, and the organization which attempts to find a cure for CF.

You can enter the walk – you don’t even need to have a pitty, there is no breed-bias here. You can bring any dog as long as you observe the leashing, pooper-scooping, and dog courtesy rules. Or you can sponsor a walker. Or you can help out with a BBQ or registration or simply come out to show your support, to meet some wonderful dogs and people, and maybe donate a little to the cause.

Raven and Macy and kids with CF and pitties everywhere would like your support. For more information, check out this link or email walkinforraven@gmail.com.

"And then my heart with pleasure fills....

.....and dances with the daffodils." (William Wordsworth)

When I was a child, my favourite poet was William Wordsworth. He is still among my favourite classical poets, though the books of more contemporary poets such as Jayne Relaford Brown’s “Finding Her Here” rival for space on my shelves.

Wordsworth’s “I wandered lonely as a cloud” was the first poem I ever memorized. I think I was about eight at the time. I still remember all four verses, and they came flooding back to me today as I took Macy for one last walk on the Serpentine Wetlands before returning her to her foster home where her new adoptive mama would be waiting.

As we meandered around the fields, Macy on the long line so she could explore, I suddenly noticed a splash of brilliant yellow. There amidst the old blackberry brambles, the faded reeds of last year, the bog grass and straw and mud, were several bunches of daffodils smiling gaily, spreading their sunshine across an otherwise primarily brown and beige palette.

Whether someone planted the bulbs last fall to delight walkers who come across them by chance on a rainy day, or whether they were buried deep in the soil that built the dikes or were the remnants of an old farmland of long ago, there they stood – straight and tall and beautiful. Such surprises in nature can only bring joy to the melancholy soul.



“And then my heart with pleasure fills/And dances with the daffodils.”

Two Happy Endings!!!

Happy Ending Number One:

Today, Macy (Caleb's littermate) moved from her foster home to her forever home with Kimberly. Macy's journey has been a long one - her first owner died, the second abused and neglected the dogs (and was later found guilty in court), then she was seized by the SPCA and spent time there. She was adopted, but the adopter decided she'd rather travel and moved Macy to her parents' house. The parents decided they didn't want her and eventually she came to the attention of Bully Buddies rescue who picked her up and took her to Zoe's for foster care. And now she is on her way to Kimberly's. That's a lot of change for a dog who is only about five - and most of the changes were in the past 16 months.

But now she is has a new, carefully selected home which will be a great fit for her calm indoor but active outdoor personality.

Sam and Zoe, thank you so much for allowing me to enjoy time with sweet Macy while she waited for Kimberly to find her. Zoe, thank you for the love and great care you gave her while fostering her. Sam, thank you for having Bully Buddies rescue her and ensuring she found her very last ever – and best ever – family. And Kimberly, thank you for adopting her. I hope you will share as much love with her and have as great a time with her as I did with her brother, Caleb. And I hope she will live a long, long, long and happy life with you.

Macy, sweet girl, you are home.

Happy Ending Number Two:

Dyno, the older yellow lab from Williams Lake who bolted while visiting a home in Burnaby a week ago today has finally been caught!!!!!

He was sighted earlier today, many times, in the same general area as yesterday. A concentrated effort of Coquitlam Animal Shelter, rescuers, volunteers, family and friends managed to narrow the field and finally rounded him up safe and sound.

This country boy was so unfamiliar with the territory and with busy city streets that it could have had such a tragic ending. His guardian angels kept him safe and I am so very relieved that he will soon be back home with his mama, where he belongs.

Good boy, Dyno! Tonight you will sleep well, with a full tummy and a warm bed, and the love of humans who never gave up. Have a great life sweet dog.

Sleeptime shenanigans

As so often happens when I have had a busy day, I had trouble falling asleep last night. I am a person who really needs a minimum of seven hours sleep to cope well physically and mentally, so when I am still awake at 1:00 AM, as I was last night, I don't set the alarm unless I absolutely have to be up early the next day.

But the alarm clock is really a moot point. I have several four legged alarm clocks around here who seem to think that I should never sleep in past 5:30 AM no matter how late I've been up the night before.

You'd think they'd just stay sleeping until they hear the refrigerator door open signalling "breakfast!". But, no, at 5:30 sharp Allie the cat runs to tell Belle to wake me up, and Belle starts her very high pitched and persistent Sheltie bark: “Wake up Mom, Wake up!!!!” (Anyone who sleeps through a standard alarm or repeatedly hits the snooze button and ends up being late for work should get themselves a Sheltie. There is NO ignoring the Sheltie Alarm Clock).

And if that isn’t enough, Charley then comes and starts pawing the bed incessantly, probably to say “Would you tell that sheltie to SHUT UP!!!” (Charley used to be the last one up around here, in the days before Belle).

Right now, the only one respectful of my sleep time is sweet Sadie -- unless there happens to be coyotes howling outside, as there was at 3:00 AM, in which case she thinks she is duty-bound to bark loud enough and long enough to wake the entire neighbourhood.

I need a bigger house - one with a dog room that has soundproof walls. Or maybe I just need an excellent set of earplugs.

Busy weekend ahead!

Today I am off to the Tri-Cities Garden Show (or something like that) in Coquitlam where a group of us have a table to promote adopting animals from rescues and shelters. Armed with pictures of the piggies, newsletters, adoption applications (though bylaws prevent people in that specific area from adopting pigs - but there could be a sponsorship of one of the sanctuary pigs), donation can etc. I get to spend the day sitting in a crowded, noisy arena. Oh joy!

Before, during, and after I am also going to be handing out and putting up posters to try to help a lost dog. Dyno is an older yellow lab who was visiting Burnaby from Williams Lake, when he escaped. He has been missing since last Sunday, and has been spotted twice in the area where the Garden Show is being held. This poor guy is no doubt terribly scared and hungry. The family is frantic with worry. If any readers live in Coquitlam, please keep an eye out for him! He apparently loves cookies and may come if some are tossed his way.
Dyno - please help him get home!!

And tomorrow, I will be heading to Surrey to officially hand Macy, Caleb's littermate, over to her new forever family!!!!! The person we met on Wednesday fell in love with her, and has completed all the necessary requirements to satisfy the rescue that she will be a great match for Macy. Macy will be going to the office with her new mom, going for daily runs and hikes in a beautiful area, and getting tons of snuggles and kisses and positive training and care. It will be a bittersweet day for the foster mom and her family, and for me - we have all grown to love that sweet girl and will miss her! But we have accomplished our goal - to find her a great home. And, sadly, there are always many more waiting for our help.
Have a great life, Macy. Congratulations, Kimberly!!!

And sometime this weekend I have to find a few hours to clean the barn, do some laundry, play with my own critters, and make up some final exams.
Time to get moving!

Hey, who stole Martin?????

....And replaced him with a brown and white alpaca???????

This afternoon, Martin was at the back of the pasture and didn't come when I called him. I could barely see him because of the brush and hilly ground. I decided to give him more time, so I waited until it was almost dusk before trying again to get him to return to his pen for the night.

In the fading light I could see a big brown and white animal. Was there another animal in the pasture? Or was Martin injured? Was that blood on his back?

Hurriedly, I grabbed his grain as enticement and move rapidly down the path toward him. He seemed to be moving toward me, but slowly, and kept turning his head around to mouth his hindquarters. I knew the llama next door had been injured by an unknown animal several weeks back and visions of trying to find a suitable vet who would make a housecall on a Friday night gave me the shivers.

And then, as I got close enough, I saw that Martin was caked in now-dried thick dirt all over his saddle area and hind end. There's not really any mud in the pasture, so he must have stood in the pouring rain and then rolled in the dust beneath the tall tree where he used to live before I came to this property.

So now I have quite a challenge. I wonder if an alpaca will fit in my tub?

Dirty Martin

The two-toned alpaca

Martin in his cleaner days

We Loves Thursdays!!!!

Piggies waiting by the fence for their treats

We piggies loves Thursdays cuz our Foster Mama always comes home from work with a big bucket of goodies that her friend Lou saves just for us. We gets salad 'n carrot peelings 'n carrot tops 'n potato peelings 'n cucumber 'n tomatoes 'n whatever other yummy veggies and fruit bits Lou has put in the bucket. Today there was lots of nice juicy tomatoes in there - they is our favourite and whoever gets to the feast first grabs one and runs away with it to the far corner of the piggy yard to eat it all by themselfs!!! Foster Mama thinks we is pretty funny when we does this!!!

Today Derby found a whole carrot in there and he rans off with that. But then he saw Whisper with a tomato so he thought he might be missing somethin' even better than a carrot and ran back to check. Then he dropped his carrot to check the goodies, and Rickey stole it from right under his snoutie!!!! Derby didn't see him do this, and then Derby went to pick up his carrot and it was GONE and he was soooooo surprised, he looked all over for it wiv a very funny expression on his face. We other piglets were all giggling at him, and so was our Foster Mama and the funny looking furry pigs that live in the big people house wiv her - Charley, Sadie and Belle. Derby didn't think it was the least bit funny.

Anyway, we snuck into the people house to type this blog entry (aren't we clever!) just so we could thank Lou for those yummy goodies. We sure do enjoy them. Thanks, Lou!

Love,
Scotch, Soda, Whisper, Toddy, Tom, Lizzie, Rickey, Rob Roy, Fizz, Spritzer, Swizzle and funny funny Derby!

Shots from today

It was a cold crisp morning when we ventured into the pasture, and the rising sun reflected off the frost and the fur, making everything glisten. I was running late - I'd stayed up until the wee small hours marking papers, slept in, and needed to pick up Macy (Caleb's littermate) from her foster home in Surrey and take her to the vet in New Westminster and a "meet and greet" with a potential adopter in Burnaby. So I had time for little more than my morning walk with the dogs and the customary barn chores. But I couldn't resist grabbing the camera for a few pictures of some of my critters in the cold morning light.

Martin waiting for breakfast. Notice his breath in the cold air!

Charley in sunlight


Dogs on the hillside

Beautiful Sadie

Little Princess Belle being snooty!!!

And since Allie is draped across my arms, between me and the screen while I try to type this, I think she is saying that she is fed up with all the pictures of "drooly dogs" and demands equal time. So here, though not a morning shot, is my Allie:

Allie

A fun game with the piggies!

I wish I had a picture of this. I was closing up the barn tonight, the piggies already fast asleep in their stall, when Fizzy woke up and came running out just as I was shutting the door. I closed the door anyway, and tried to get Fizz to follow me round to the small secure potty area so he could go in through the burlap flap which covers the small piggy door without 11 other piggies all running out into the field.

His oofs and oinks woke up some of his siblings, and soon another little piggy was poking his nose under the burlap flap to see what was going on. Then the eyes appeared, then the head. At that moment I yawned and next thing I know, the piggy is yawning too! (NOTHING is as cute as a piglet doing a huge yawn!!!!).

Turns out human yawns aren't just contagious to other humans but also to piggies. Several more piglets came out, and as each emerged I yawned at them and they yawned back. Soon I had five piglets yawning at me every time I yawned at them! We played this game for about twenty minutes - one piglet after the other yawning back at me, a huge head-lifting, neck twisting yawn accompanied by a big stretch each time. In the end I was laughing so hard I couldn't yawn anymore, and by then Fizz was safely in the secure area so I stepped back and watched them disappear one by one under the burlap and back to their cozy bed.

And that was my evening's magic moment, and my daily dose of laughter. Thanks, piggies.