Monday, January 24, 2011

A gloomy, grey Monday with a splash or two of colour

It was one of those mornings - grey, dark, wet, cold. Did I mention wet? The dogs had no interests in going outside, and I had no interest in doing much of anything either. I frittered away the day reading, watching tv, snoozing, and surfing the net while my "to do" list (which has plenty of tasks on it!) sat ignored. Dark gloomy days do that to me. Inertia extraordinaire.

By mid afternoon, the rain had slowed to a drizzle and I hauled my sorry butt out of the recliner to take the dogs for a long, slow walk - not much exercise, perhaps, but at least some fresh air.

The shoreline matched the day - grey, muddy, drab - but a hint of light in the sky gave promise to a brighter hour or two.




Grey skies and glassy waters make for good reflections at the marina.



I was trying to snap a row of seagulls on a rail without much success (a truck drove back and forth disturbing them repeatedly), but when I downloaded the photos, I had to laugh at what I'd captured. Look closely at the bird on the ground (you can click on any picture to enlarge it, then use your back browser to return to the blog) - I can't decide if this is a naughty boy seagull looking up the ladies' skirts, or if he is saying "Hey, up there! Don't poop on me!"



One of the cats at the empty house decided to let me know just how boring people with cameras have become.








The seagulls on the beach were busy scavenging as the tide went out. This one's eyes were bigger than his belly - or his throat - as he struggled repeatedly to swallow a small starfish. He didn't let me close enough for a good photo, but you can just see one starfish tentacle sticking out the beak.



Another shot of the boats, as we headed back home.




No gloomy Monday walk in January on the island is complete without looking for signs of spring - I forgot to photograph the pussywillows and snowdrops we saw on our walk, but just to torment my readers from central and eastern Canada and US, (and especially from Ontario where the temperatures are among the coldest in thirty years), here are a couple of photos taken in my yard when we returned from the walk:





And one last splash of colour with an interesting story behind it:

A couple of days ago, a reader contacted me via the link on the side of this blog, and shared with me a watercolour she had done in the summer of 1969 when she visited the island, sleeping in her little MG with her dog (!!!!!) as she travelled around painting. It is with her permission that I post the picture here. Thank you Cathy, for sharing your gift and adding such colour and beauty to a gloomy, grey Monday.

Watercolour, Saltspring Island from Mill Bay

(c) 2011 Catherine McNaughton

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

A dirty secret and an update on Martin



There is an unwritten code of ethics among responsible rescuers, and part of this code says that having rescued an animal, you have lifelong responsibility for that animal. If you place the animal, it must be a home which you are certain will give it a forever commitment. If it doesn't work out, you must take the animal back.

And so, for the past six months, I have had a dirty secret. Martin, the alpaca, is no longer where I placed him. And when I heard he was about to be moved again, I did not take him back.

Sh*t happens. Lives fall apart. Situations change. And so it was with Martin.

For those unfamiliar with Martin's story, I'll provide a brief summary:

In 2006, I rented some acreage in Mission, BC where Martin had been abandoned in the back field. He had been there for 6 – 8 years, all by himself. From neighbours, I learned he had been purchased as a newly-weaned cria by a former tenant, who then left him behind when they moved out a year later. Subsequently, some renters had fed him, most had not. He had no shelter except for a tree, under which he had dug a dirt hole. He lived with coyotes and bears roaming through the field, as well as the occasional pack of dogs. It was cold and snowy in winter, very wet in fall and spring, and hot in summer, yet he survived it all.

I named him Martin after Saint Martin de Porres, a Peruvian saint who was said to be able to communicate with the animals. It was a fitting name as alpacas are a Peruvian animal, and Saint Martin de Porres, from what I have read of him, embodied many of the qualities that I admire, and shared Martin the alpaca's gentle temperment.

I built Martin a good shelter, made sure he had fresh water, grains and hay all year, had him shorn (he had never been done!) and his toes and teeth done, had him gelded, and taught him to come when called and to eat from my hand. He shared the pasture with the potbellied pigs I fostered, socialized with llamas in an adjacent field, and became comfortable around me and my dogs.






I knew I would not be on that property for more than a few years – retirement was looming, and the rent was too high for me to afford on my pension. Nor would I have the finances to buy acreage of my own. But I could not, in good conscience, walk away from him at the end of my lease. I persuaded the landlord to sign him over to me so that I could find Martin a home.

When I was about to retire, in 2009, I put the word out via rescue forums and alpaca organizations to find him a new home. A kind woman on Vancouver Island, who has an assortment of rescue animals, and also a herd of alpacas from which she collects the fibre for weaving, offered to take him in - a bonus for me as the community to which I was retiring was coincidentally about twenty minutes away from her farm, allowing me to continue to see Martin. Another rescue person and I did a homecheck, talked with her about our expectations, and met her other animals. The woman came to Mission to pick up Martin, and he rode home in comfort in the back of her van. Martin had a home.




I visited him there several times. Martin had settled in well, becoming "Uncle Martin" to the crias, and learning how to truly be an alpaca. I thought my work was done.


And then, last spring, I received an email from Martin’s new mama to say that ill health was forcing her dear friend and business partner to reconsider her participation in the care of the herd, and in the final shakedown, some of the animals would have to be rehomed. While I was not happy to hear this, I did understand – and I have a huge respect for animal caregivers who recognize their own physical and financial limitations. I see and hear of so many rescues/rescuers who lack the ability to recognize when they are overextended, and ultimately it is the animals who suffer.

As the person responsible for Martin’s initial rescue, many would say I should have taken him back and found him another home. The email came right at the time that my two shelties died just a week apart, and my mom had a medical crisis, and it was simply not possible for me to house him on my small village lot. And I was confident that Martin’s new mama shared the same values as I for selecting where he should go, and had a similar access to animal-loving networks. And so I stood back.

Sure enough, a person who does horse rescue offered to take on a small herd of alpacas, including Martin, and care for them while new homes were found. I was kept in the loop. The alpacas would only be placed in homes in pairs or more - no more lonely alpacas. I sponsored Martin to ensure his needs would be met, and just before Christmas received word that Martin and his best buddy Belvedere, a chocolate coloured senior alpaca, had been adopted by one of the horse rescue's foster homes.

So Martin is back on the mainland, this time in Northern BC, where he is being spoiled rotten by Serena and her family. Within days he was eating treats from her hand, coming up to the front fence to see what was going on, hanging out with the horses and ducks, and living the easy life.

He and Belvedere have a fenced pasture on which they can roam, a barn which they can go in and out of at will (their stall heated with infrared lamps in winter), and lots of attention. They each have their own feed bucket into which yummy grains are put each day – and then they both chow down from one bucket before both moving on to the second one. Silly alpacas!

Serena, his new mama, recently sent me these photos, and gave me permission to post them here.













I chose not to tell this story as it unfolded last summer because it was my dirty secret – I had failed to home Martin in a way that would ensure he would never lose a home again. But over the past few weeks, I decided that I will share his story, because I believe it is worth the telling. I still have no patience for people who adopt animals and then decide for frivolous reasons not to keep them, who view them as property, as commodities, an inconvenience, who think that having a baby is reason enough to dump a dog. But I also recognize that sometimes in life, sh*t happens, and life turns upside down and inside out, and the four legged family members have their lives turned upside down too. Ideally, a stable life where the whole family, human and animal, remain together is usually in each member's best interest, but sometimes it cannot be.

What is important, I think, is to ensure that the animal - whether dog or pig or alpaca or bird or pet rat - is provided with a secure environment, with good food, with fresh water, with companionship .... and with love. And that is something Martin has. He is a content, happy alpaca who has finally found his home. Thank you, Serena, for welcoming Martin and Belvedere.



For more stories on Martin's life with me and his transition to the alpaca herd on Vancouver island, check out some of these earlier posts:

Mischievous Martin, Pesky Pigs and Three Dawdling Dogs

Hey, Who Stole Martin?

The Grass is always Greener

An Alpaca gets the Zoomies

Martin

The Odd Couple

A Herd of His Own

Martin's Big Snip - Part One

Martin's Big Snip - Part Two

Martin's Big Snip - Part Three

And then there were none

Nekid 'Pacas!

Fun at the Farm

A bit of this, a bit of that

Time for a little catch-up of the events of the past week or so. The trip to the mainland was uneventful - no whale sightings, no glorious sunrises or sunsets, and the task of clearing out mom's old suite is now complete. Mom seems content enough in her new facility. The nursing staff there is excellent, the place spotless, and there are lots of amenities and activities for the residents. It was heartwarming to hear my mom say of the place, "I feel like I'm HOME." And it is a huge relief for us "kids" to know that mom now has the 24 hour medical and personal care she needs.

Next to each resident's door, built into the wall, is a lovely glass-enclosed display cabinet, where personal items that tell the story of the resident's life can be placed. It is fascinating to see each person's memorabilia, a visible reminder to staff and visitors that these are not just patients but unique individuals with long and interesting histories.

The process of clearing out mom's suite was, in many ways, also a lesson in history. I learned things about my mother's and late father's life that I never knew. We found journals and scrapbooks that I didn't know mom had - she had kept every card her children had ever given her, and the programmes from every show we had ever taken her to. And among the programmes, we found a treasure. These photos are some of the pages from the programme for a 1923 performance of Anna Pavlova at the Royal Opera House in Covent Gardens, London, England, which my mom attended when she was five years old!

Front cover













Back cover

My mother's oldest sister took her to the ballet, and mom kept the programme all these years. It is 17 pages long, with beautiful representations of dance, interesting descriptions, and several ads for Roaring Twenties fashions. We have been in touch with the Royal Opera House, who tell us highly decorated programmes such as this are very attractive and are often used in their exhibitions. This particular one is extremely rare, and my mother has agreed to donate it to the Royal Opera House for their collection. How cool is that?

I arrived at my mainland destination before the snow flew - my timing was perfect as the next morning I received an email from my neighbour showing a foot of snow covering the neighbourhood! (Oops, I deleted the email, so can't post the pictures here!). And by the time I arrived back, five days later, the snow had all disappeared. The snow on the mainland lasted only a day or so, also. The goddess must have been smiling on me. I hate driving in snow!

Charley, Sadie and Allie were very well taken care of by their new petsitter (thanks, Barbara!). In fact, too well taken care of - Charley and Sadie didn't even bother getting up to greet me when I returned! At least Allie ran to the door when she heard my car - my nose would really have been out of joint if none of the critters missed me!

Since returning home, the weather has been a mixed bag of rain and sunshine - and lots of rainbows. The pulp mill on the edge of town must be doing well - at least, if they found the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow, which shone directly on one of the ships loading at their docks.




And what are these blue and orange sausages?



Why, it's Charley and Sadie in their raincoats (it is too warm for their warmer winter coats, but their fur is so thick that some protection is needed from the rain or they take forever to dry when we get home).




They were investigating this rusty chain at the end of the boat launch dock.



No doubt it smelled of crabs or prawn - here's one of the many boats being put into the water to head out to set some traps.



Poor Charley, who doesn't have much range of motion in her hind quarters, lost her back end down the crack between two pieces of dock. She never made a sound - I suddenly realized the leash was tight and looked back to find her looking pathetic with her front legs on the dock and her back legs down in the water. Oooops.

Well, that's enough for tonight - it's past my bedtime. Tomorrow I shall post an update on Martin, the alpaca I found abandoned on the farm I rented in Mission. Stay tuned!

Monday, January 17, 2011

I am speechless

And so today I am just going to post a link to a post on the Turtle Gardens blog. Turtle Gardens is a northern BC dog rescue run by a couple I greatly admire, and they struggle to help in a location where there is little money, few volunteers, and even fewer options for animals in need. Please help if you can. In memory of 100 dogs.

Here is the link: http://www.turtlegardens.org/2011/01/17/in-memory-of-100-dogs

Jean

Monday, January 10, 2011

New Years on Salt Spring Island

Watercolor World

This post is a bit late, but I decided a post with blue sky and sunshine and beautiful scenery was an appropriate antidote for the grey skies, dark, cold, and snow that is the current reality.

My daughter was in Victoria with friends for New Year's Eve, and then caught the bus up island on the first day of the year to spend the weekend with me. On Sunday, we decided a day on Salt Spring Island would be enjoyable. So we boarded the ferry near my house and headed off just as the mist was rising over the waters.

Mist rising on Crofton harbour

We checked out the fair trade store (where I bought a nice warm hat), had a very nice lunch at the Oystercatcher overlooking the harbour, browsed through the tall, old wooden stacks in our favourite used book store, had a latte at the Saltspring Island Coffeehouse, and picked up a gift I needed for a friend on the mainland. It was a great way to spend the day. And like a dolt, I forgot to take pictures of any of those things.

My daughter lives in downtown Vancouver, so decided to take the plane from Salt Spring Island to downtown, rather than the four or five hour trip by car, ferry and bus from Crofton. We had booked the ticket by phone, and been told to just wait on the dock for the three o'clock plane - no airports, no security check, no baggage handlers, no boarding passes here! It's a beautiful area to wait.

Salt Spring harbour at Ganges

Waiting for the plane

Here it comes!


We watched the yellow and white Harbour Air seaplane come in and discharge its two passengers, then my daughter walked down to the wharf and hopped on board.

Airline travel made easy


Soon it taxied across the water, close on the tails of a boat heading out.





It passed the boat and was soon airborne.









It would make one stop at Maple Bay (back on Vancouver Island, about ten minutes from Crofton!) and then off to downtown Vancouver, where it would arrive at 3:45.

I drove the fifteen minutes back to Vesuvius Bay to catch my little ferry to Crofton. I arrived just in time to watch my daughter's flight take off for the second time, this time from Maple Bay, and fly overhead as it continued on to the mainland.



I had some time to kill (ironically, my daughter would get home before I would!), so took some photos around Vesuvius Bay.







As my ferry arrived, the sun was just setting and we sailed home on a golden sea.










A wonderful weekend to start a new year.


Note: This will likely be my last blog post until next week, as I'm off to the mainland tomorrow until Saturday, if my petsitter can get over the Malahat and I can get to the ferry. Forecasts are for a big dump of snow tomorrow - I am soooo hoping the weatherpeople are wrong.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

The Benefits of Crate Training

(I had a several people email me asking for more information on crate training, after I mentioned using it for Lucy. I apologize for the delay - here, at last, are my thoughts on crates and the techniques I use).

The concept of crating dogs took me some time to get used to. When I first heard of the practice, as something people did to their pets and not just to contain dogs in shelters, veterinary offices and airports, I was appalled – who in their right mind would want to put their dog in a CAGE? After all, aren’t cages horrible things, like jail cells?

Not so. Since I began taking animal care seriously, fostering and adopting older dogs, and getting involved in animal rescue, I have done an about face and now see crates as an essential part of a dog’s environment. I consider crate training a pup as important as teaching the pup to walk nicely on a leash or to wait for a command before barreling out of the car.

Almost all of the people I know in rescue with a true commitment to helping rescued and shelter dogs become adoptable, family-ready, companion animals recognize the value of crates. We want our dependent family members, whether children or animals, to be good citizens, to be social, to have some manners, and to feel safe and secure. My dogs are far from perfect, but they are easy to live with. And crate training has been partially responsible for that.

Before I go on, let’s first look at my choice of words: cage vs crate. A cage confines, a cage keeps the people outside the cage safe. A cage is what was once used in zoos before we better understood the need for animals to have as natural a habitat as possible. A crate also confines, but it also protects the contents – think of a shipping crate, for example: sturdy, safe, protecting the precious cargo it carries. But I digress.

Dogs tend to like crates. Why? Because dogs are, by nature, den animals. They like to feel secure, to curl up in a safe space where they can relax, sure that nothing can harm them. Most of us have dogs who feel safe within our homes whether in their crate or not, and many of those dogs have their own favorite corner or bed or couch or even closet in the home. But it’s hard to fit that couch or closet into the back of the family vehicle. Crates are portable and can go along on vacations whether to grandma’s house or camping by the lake.

Having a dog that enjoys a crate is useful, too, when the dog is faced with stressful situations. Being used to a crate means that when Fido is stuck at the vets, the wire door won’t be quite so scary. And when Fifi pulls a cruciate and has to be confined “on bed rest” for weeks, liking her crate makes that sentence a whole lot easier! Crates are useful, too, when the house is full of busy company (human and/or canine) and a dog just wants a place to chill.

I believe every puppy should be crate trained for all the above reasons, but also because it is easier to housetrain them, and to keep them safe during those times when there is no one home. A crated dog will not usually soil its den, and it certainly can’t chew up the electrical cords, tear off the plastic hose at the back of the toilet, eat through the drywall, or make a feast out of your favourite antique table (and yes, I have had pups do all those things in my pre-crating life!).

Like any other piece of equipment, crates have to be used responsibly. If a dog is to feel safe and comfortable there, it needs to be a safe, comfortable place. A soft mattress or blanket provides a comfy place for doggy knees and elbows to rest. Happy voices and rewarding treats make going into the crate fun. Crates should never be used as punishment, and a dog should never be shoved in there by a human yelling at the dog in anger. Nor should dogs be left in crates for long periods of time – a few hours at most, though I do know of people who crate their very happy adult dogs while they are at work all day – but are committed to giving their dogs lots of daily exercise as well. Crating all day would certainly not be appropriate for young pups, who can only comfortably hold their bladder about an hour for each month of their age – a four month old pup may be comfortable for a maximum of four hours, but no longer. And if the dog is high energy, a vigorous play period or a really long walk will do both the dog and the human a whole lot more good than sticking the dog in the crate. A tired dog is a good dog – and a tired dog is happy to have a nap in his nice, safe, comfy crate.

What kind of crate to get?

Crates come in both wire and plastic or fiberglass models, as well as the fabric ones sometimes used for travel or shows. The fabric ones are quite easily torn or even flipped with the dog inside, and, in my opinion, are best kept for short term use only. Wire ones provide more visibility than plastic – which some dogs like and some don’t. Wire ones fold flat, making them easier to transport or store. That giant sized plastic kennel just isn’t going to fit in the back seat of the Honda Civic very well. However, many dogs prefer the fiberglass/plastic crates as they give a more secure den-like feeling.

My dogs prefer the wire ones. This may be because they were not crate trained until they were older adults and they consider the whole house their “den” and the crate merely one of several beds in it. Charley was trained to an x-pen, which we still use for travel today, and she is quite happy with the wire of an xpen or the wire of a crate around her. Sadie isn’t terribly happy with either – perhaps she has a learned fear of being confined when her beloved family disappeared and she scratched at the wire of the shelter kennel until her paws were raw and bleeding. However, even she voluntarily goes into the open wire crate in my living room for a nap from time to time, and will happily stay in there with a frozen stuffed kong.

Some dogs like wire crates better because they are cooler – Charley and Sadie both have very thick coats and really suffer in the heat, so the more limited air circulation of the plastic crates does not suit them. That said, there are plastic crates with built in fans available – though I am not sure how efficiently they work and whether some dogs would object to the feel of air being blown on or away from them. And small skinny hairless dogs who feel the cold more may well like the warmth of a plastic crate, no fan needed!

One good compromise, especially if you have a long haired dog who will be hot in a plastic crate in summer, is to get a wire one, but toss a blanket over it. For a price you can even buy special cloth or canvas crate covers that look very nice (or if you are a zillion times more talented at sewing than I am, you can make your own to match your décor!). That way, you can provide a covered den-like crate, with the option of good ventilation and visibility by removing the cover.

Getting the right sized crate for the dog is also important. Used crates are always available on online classifieds like craigslist, so sizing up as the pup grows is not a big issue. However, there are also crates that have an adjustable interior “wall” so the crate can grow as your pup does. Too big a crate for a little pup and they may not feel secure (and may well poop at one end of the crate). Too small a crate for your adult dog, and you can cause pain in its neck or limbs. The right size crate is one in which your dog has three or four extra inches of head space when standing or sitting, and is long enough and wide enough for the dog to turn around and to lie down.

Teaching the dog to like the crate:

Getting a dog of any age – pup to senior – used to a crate is not usually too difficult, unless, like Sadie, they have experienced a traumatic event associated with being kenneled. Whenever I foster or adopt a dog, every new dog to my home is introduce to the crate by eating all his or her meals there. At first, that may mean just putting the bowl on the floor of the crate just inside the door and letting the dog stand outside the crate to eat. Then I gradually move the bowl further in until they must go right inside the crate to get the food. Then I begin closing the door while they are in there eating, but opening it right after. Then I make them wait a moment or two, slowly increasing the wait time. I also hide treats in the crate for them to find, or put them in the crate with a high-value treat like a bully stick, or a long lasting treat like a frozen stuffed kong.

I make sure the crate is somewhere quiet but central – usually in my living room alongside a wall, or between a couch or chair and the wall. I want them to feel part of the family. Depending on the dog, I have at times had crates in my bedroom as well – Belle used to like to sleep in a crate in the bedroom, whereas Charley has always preferred her “own” room at night time. She says my snoring keeps her awake.

When crate training, I try not to let a dog out when she is whining – I want to catch her being quiet in her crate and THEN open the door for her. Sometimes that may mean dropping a toy or treat in at the far end of the crate to distract her, and when she stops whining to go investigate, whipping the door open and telling her good dog. Otherwise she will learn that whining will get her what she wants. If she goes in voluntarily and lies down for a snooze, I wait a few minutes and then go over with a treat for her – good dog, crate!

Just as kids can learn to like their own beds and rooms, dogs too learn to see their crate as their favourite place to be when they can’t be with you.

Here’s a couple of good links about crate training:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gI8b_xfEuPA

http://www.pets.ca/dogs/articles/housebreaking-crate-training/

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

An Update on Lucy

Lucy Lou is doing well! I heard from her new mama today, and she says Lucy is settling in nicely. She has already found her favourite playmate - her mama's best friend's dog - who she'll be seeing lots and lots of. Lucy has decided the daughter's bed is just the right place to sleep, which makes young Kaia very happy indeed!

So far, the only real mischief Lucy has gotten into is stealing the cat's food - including sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night for a midnight snack. Now that made me laugh - it is sooooo Lucy. They have solved the problem by moving the catfood up higher where she can't reach it. Hopefully the kitties aren't too annoyed with the change.

So, all in all, Lucy is off to a good start. Of course, when a dog changes homes there is often a "honeymoon" period as they figure out their place in the pack and get a sense of who the other "pack" members are - both two legged and four legged members. I certainly saw many changes in Lucy's personality and behaviour during the months she was with me, and it has been my experience that adopters often don't really get to know their dog's true personality until three to six months later. I look forward to future updates on Lucy Lou as she continues to settle in.

I apologize for the lack of posts the past several days. Now that my household is back to 'normal' (if there is any such thing!), I'm catching up on a number of tasks that have been on hold. I'm also heading to the mainland for five days next week, with a new petsitter coming to look after Charley, Sadie and Allie, so I'm trying to get organized for that. I have several blog post ideas (and rough drafts) and some photos to post too and will try to get some up tomorrow - but as the song says,


Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I love ya Tomorrow!
You're always
A day
A way!

Saturday, January 1, 2011

It's a top ten bloghop!

Evensong, a blogger friend at Mountain Music, drew my attention to a blogging event which sounds like fun. Each blogger chooses their ten favourite posts that they made in 2010, and links to each other for a bloghop (which is kinda like a pub crawl but without the morning-after effects). So..... I went through my posts for 2010 and ended up with twenty favourites --- ooops!

And then I narrowed it down.

It was hard to decide on the criteria - was I looking for ones I felt were well written? creative? had good photography? meaningful to me? I ended up with a mix. If I've missed one of your favourites from this past year, be sure to mention it in the comments.

The first four were easy:

The Magic of the Quilt in which I tell the true story of a quilt that helped a puppy find a perfect home.

Foster Mama, Lucy Lou and a Little Dr. Seuss in which foster dog Lucy and I discuss the merits of snow, in the style of Dr. Seuss.


The Dog Who Thought He was a Polar Bear, a story based on a morning walk with my late sheltie, Oliver.

Why the Sky Turned Orange, a myth which came into my head as I watched a beautiful sunset shortly after Oliver died.

Then it gets a little trickier, and the final six were hard to choose. But I think these give a wide representation of my blogging work of the past year - a little pensive, a little humour, a tribute or two, and some photographic essays. Here, in no particular order, are the ones I selected:

Beautiful Borzois and a Passel of Puppies, a series of photographs of my foster pups and my friend's gorgeous borzois that she just adopted from Turtle Gardens Animal Rescue.

Touring Cowichan Valley, Part 3, (and also parts 1 and 2) in which a visit from a friend motivated me to capture some of the beautiful spots in the area where I live.

Ebeneezer's Rescue, a true story of the rescue of a lonely, abandoned potbellied piggy. Perhaps not my best writing (I've since edited it quite a bit for a book I'm working on), but a fun tale worth the telling.

Watercolour World, in which I am tempted to take up painting, motivated by the natural beauty of sunrises and sunsets. I chose this one because the photos give me a sense of tranquility.

My Precious Boy has passed away, a tribute to my sheltie Oliver

And Now my Belle has left us too , a tribute to my sheltie Belle, who died a week after Oliver. I chose these last two because they are truly written from the heart.

Okay, that's ten. Aww shoot, but I have more I really liked:

Confessions of a Patio Gardener
My Favourite Shot of the Week
Magical Morning Meanderings
Two quiet old easy care dogs
A little comic relief
Lucy's song
And off they go
Those long awaited omg couldn't ya just smooch those little faces puppy pictures.

Okay, I cheated. But so did some others in the bloghop.

Now check out these other bloggers' top tens:
Here's the bloghop list:

And so another year begins

My years are not marked so much by the dates on the calendar, but by the critters that come and go. I think in terms of “that was the year I lost my Caleb” or “that was the year Oliver came into my life”.

And each January 1st, I find myself reflecting “What has changed in this past year? How is my life different now?”

And so it is today, this New Year’s Day 2011.

I began the year sharing my home with four dogs and a cat – Charley, Sadie, Belle, Oliver and Allie. The passing months saw the loss of my two precious shelties, Belle and Oliver. Oliver passed away six months ago today, and Belle one week after that. I miss them still, and always will.

In September, pregnant foster dog Lucy came to live with me, and October saw the arrival of her ten pups – Deli, Peanut, Hubbard, Pumpkin, Zuke, Patty, Bo, Nugget, Acorn, and Summer. Fourteen animals in my home. It was a busy time, a very busy time. By the end of November, the pups were all gone, and yesterday funny, silly, smart, loving Lucy left for her new home.

And so I end the year with just two old easy care dogs and a mischievous cat. It is awfully quiet around here. I can’t help but wonder what this next year will bring. What critters will arrive, pass through, pass on, or stay?

I am hard pressed to think of anything inspirational to write this New Years day – the bittersweet feeling of placing Lucy yesterday is at the forefront of my mind. And I think of all my human friends who have lost canine companions in this past year or welcomed new ones to their homes. Each leaving, each arrival, affects our heart forever. Last night my friend Ellen sent this quote to me, and it is so right, so perfect, for those of us who love animals:

It came to me that every time I lose a dog, they take a piece of my heart
with them. And every new dog who comes into my life gifts me with a piece of
their heart. If I live long enough, all the components of my heart will be
dog, and I will become as generous and loving as they are.
- Cheryl Zuccaro -


Happy New Year, everyone. May we all become as generous and loving as the critters we care for.