A Very Close Call!

I was driving home from Duncan this afternoon - my first day of really taking my new van anywhere - when I had a very, very close call. I was just puttering along, taking my time, no other vehicles in sight, when I happened to glance at the beautiful tall trees that line the road and noticed............a HUGE evergreen falling through the sky, heading for its resting place right across the road in front of my car.

Good thing the new van has good brakes, because if I'd hit them any harder my foot would have gone through the floorboards. The tree and the van stopped simultaneously, the nose of the van less than two feet from the trunk of the tree. Fortunately, the branches were sparse enough that other than a few needles in the front bumper there was no wood-meets-metal to report.

I didn't have my camera. I don't have a camera on my cell phone. So no pictures. And I discovered that I can't dial 9-1-1 from the cell - the screen just says "emergency number only; press * and # to cancel". Okay...I didn't cancel - I wanted to get hold of the police as it is a winding stretch of fairly frequently travelled road - but nothing happened. No phone ringing, no voice, just dead air. Time to phone Telus to find out why -the only reason I even carry a cell is for emergencies!

Thankfully, the next person to arrive was a volunteer firefighter who immediately called his firehall. Another guy arrived with a chainsaw, others started dragging broken boughs away, and in true community fashion we took care of all but the largest end of the trunk before any emergency crews had even arrived.

I'm used to keeping my eyes open for deer along that stretch of road - now I'll be watching for trees as well.

And that was my excitement for the day.

Reflections

I was sorting through some of my local images for a project, and couldn't help but notice how many of my favourites involve reflections in water. There is something very captivating about seeing boats or fall trees or ducks or sunsets reversed and expanded through the magic of light and water. Here's just a sampling of some of the scenes that caught this nature-lover's eye the past few months: (You can click on any image to enlarge it, then hit the back browser to return to the blog).

Guess what de Easter Bunny brunged us!!

He brunged us DIS:



Our mama sez he brunged it fer us dogs, not fer her, cuz if it waz fer her it wud be a little blue sportscar.

He knowed us dogs needed a minivan cuz it waz very, very hard to climb up into the pathfinder and the ramp doesn't work wiv that vehicle. And besides our old car was breakin' down and had a LOT of kilometers on it from all the trips to the parks wiv us dogs.

Actshully, de Easter Bunny told us about it, but our mama don't get to pick it up until tomorrow cuz ...well....fer sum stoopid reason to do wiv not havin' time to wait fer the insurance peoples today because she had to get home to let the little leaky dogs outta the house. Me 'n Charley, we can hold our pee fer a loooooong time, 'specially if it means we's gonna get to go fer a ride in our new car!

Anyways, tomorrow we gets our new van! Our mama sez her old car better not get stolen tonight, cuz she's already signed de paperwork.

Love Sadie

Kinley has a brother!!!

Logan

Logan (front), with Kinley (in back)

Regular readers will be familiar with stories of my friend Ellen's whippets, Kinley and Cisco, and may recall that Cisco sadly passed away from cancer about four months ago.

Today, Ellen and Kinley welcome Logan to their home. Logan is 16 months old and flew in from the prairies this morning. Then he and Kinley (oh, and Ellen too) went to a Racing for Fun day, after which Logan decided to hop into Kinley's crate with him.

Logan's grandmother is a famous whippet, famous in a sad sort of way - she escaped at JFK airport and was never found. You can read her story here.

Ellen and I had a good laugh when she was trying to choose his new name for his new life (he was formerly another Charlie). She liked the name Logan, and looking up the meaning certainly sealed the deal: Logan means "Finnian's servant". Take off the final "N", because Ellen's cat's name is Finnia, and we all know which species has the upper paw in most dog and cat homes!

Welcome, Logan. You have landed in a great home and may you have a long and happy life. Kinley and Finnia, you be nice to your new brother/servant!

After the Storm

The storm is over, and other than being without power much of the day yesterday, Crofton seems to have escaped relatively unscathed, unlike Mill Bay marina just south of here which was totally destroyed.

It is still gusty and rainy and cold, but Oliver was able to get down to the water for a little dip today, and Charley and Sadie both had a nice walk on the beach too. The RV park along the shore is full with weekend revellers - how anyone can consider it "fun" to be living in a trailer two feet from another trailer, with music blaring and kids screaming, I will never understand. My idea of a weekend getaway, in the days before I took on so many dogs, was a deserted forestry site miles from anywhere, with my good friends Ann and Ken and a guitar and a fishing rod.

And now the power is back on, the dogs are duly exercised, and I am impatiently awaiting some very exciting news from my friend Ellen and her doggy pal Kinley.......very impatiently....very very impatiently..........

Morning conversations

Soggy Doggy

The Setting: A small house in a small town. Outside, gale force winds, driving rain and bitterly cold temperatures set the stage. Inside, four dogs, a cat and a grey-haired woman are having a conversation. Grey-haired woman began the morning by stepping with bare feet into a large pile of poop enroute to the kitchen. Feet washed, rug cleaned, she now stands at the open back door in her coat and boots.

Woman: Out, all dogs out! Go do your business.

Charley: No way. It’s mizrable out there!

Belle: No thank you. I already went out to do my business when I woke you up two hours ago.

Sadie: Don’t need to. Did it already. On the rug.

Oliver: Let’s go to the beach!

Allie: Cats rule, dogs drool. I have my own personal commode in the house! Nyah nyah nyah!

Woman forces all dogs out. All dogs do more business and dash back in -- except Oliver, who does his happy dance (which is a canine version of the bunny hop) all around the yard.

Woman: Oliver, inside! (Grabs his collar and hauls him in).

Oliver: The beach, the beach! It’s time for my polar bear swim!

Woman: Oliver, it is awful out there – can’t we give it a miss?

Oliver: The beach, the beach! It’s time for my polar bear swim!

Oliver prances around the mudroom and then stands with nose to door).

Woman: It’s too windy! It’s too wet! It’s too cold!

Oliver: The beach, the beach! It’s time for my polar bear swim!

Woman, with deep sigh and great feelings of guilt, puts heavy sweater under her gortex jacket, pulls hoodie tight around face, puts warm raincoat on Oliver, snaps on leash and heads out.

They made it as far as the start of the seawalk. Oliver was blown right off the edge of the sidewalk twice, landing on his side in the muddy gutter. The woman was soaked through to the skin and freezing. She told him they were going home.

Oliver: Mommmmmmmmmm, I hazn’t had my swim.

Woman: You are soaking wet. You’ve had a swim. You’ve just forgotten.

You can fool a dog some of the time, especially one with canine cognitive disorder (doggy alzheimers). Unfortunately this wasn’t one of those times. He dragged his furry little paws all the way back home at a snail’s pace, moping and grumbling the whole time, forever looking back at the ocean and trying to turn me around. It was not a pleasant stroll.

The other dogs just looked at him like he was crazy. The cat blinked her eyes and smirked. And Oliver is still pacing around, waiting to go for a swim.

Oxymorons and Metaphors

If a phrase that contradicts itself is an oxymoron, then a beautiful flower that stinks must be Mother Nature's version of that same concept. I thought about this on the walk to Crofton Lake yesterday, as I came across this beautiful scene, where the sun filters through the moss-covered trees and reflects in the water, spotlighting the beautiful yellow flowers:



And the beautiful flowers, Skunk Cabbage, smell like....well....skunks. An oxymoron in nature.




But that's not all. The people who go into the woods to enjoy nature add another level to the oxymoron:




And that brings me to metaphors:

We can focus on the smell, which though unpleasant, we can do little about. We can focus on the beauty of the flower, and appreciate the joy it brings. Or we can focus on the can that someone so carelessly tossed aside. All three are reality, but our reaction to the scene depends on our focus.

Kinda like my post of yesterday. Nature as a metaphor for animal rescue work. What you choose to focus on will influence your description and assessment of the subject.

We can pick up the can and take it home, leaving the place beautiful once more even if the unpleasant smell still remains. Metaphorical on so many levels.

Airplanes, Teens, and Animal Rescues

When I was about 14 years old, I overheard my father and my friend’s father discussing an incident in which the behaviour of a few teens had disrupted the community. The local paper was full of letters to the editor condemning youth en masse, and my friends and I were pretty upset at being lumped in with the losers who had dragged bales of hay into an intersection and set them on fire on Hallowe’en night. (Okay, this may seem tame by comparison to some of today’s hijinks, but in a small town in the 60s, this was BIG news!) Our dads were discussing this, and my friend’s dad made a statement that has stuck with me for over forty years: “Teenagers are a lot like airplanes – you only hear about the ones that crash.”

Whenever I feel like I cannot watch another newscast, read about another scandal, or deal with another pessimistic person, I think of that statement. We are bombarded with bad news stories, and while there are a few “fluff” pieces of feel-good news, we lose perspective when we give so much attention to the negative and so little to the positive.

While I am in no way recommending we ignore social injustice or the truly horrible things that occur in human society, I think it serves us well to try to balance the horrible with those acts worthy of applause.

Yesterday, Hearts on Noses rescued yet another pig – they are stretched to the limit yet this one little (or rather, BIG) potbellied pig, with ears and tail bitten off by rats that shared its terribly inadequate and horrific living conditions, is now sleeping safely and comfortably at the sanctuary. Yes, we could focus on the abhorrent acts of the person who had responsibility for this pig –and I certainly believe he should be criminally charged – but if we dwell solely on the negative we will forget to celebrate the positive. And so I invite a mighty cheer and a standing ovation for Janice at Hearts on Noses, and for the others who brought the pig to her attention and helped with the rescue. There is one fewer animal being tormented tonight.

My friend’s dad’s phrase came to mind also when I was browsing through some of the animal rescue** blogs and forums I read from time to time. Ongoing wars, backstabbing, rescues fighting with rescues, rescues being exposed as brokers or as neglecting animals in their care, rescues that run amuck and lose sight of their original purpose – the stories are numerous, the knee-jerk reactions many.

The fact that rescues argue among themselves about such things as ethics, animal welfare, and policies and procedures is, in my opinion, an excellent thing. Such issues need to be debated and critically evaluated by people who are in the thick of it. But the fact that all rescues sometimes get branded negatively when one rescue is exposed as a broker or as neglecting its charges or when an organization makes what proves to be an unpopular decision, is, to me, the parallel of seeing only the plane that crashes and not the many safe landings that occur every hour of every day.

In my internet browsing today, I came across an attack on an organization for which I am a proud volunteer – the SPCA. One branch of the organization made a decision regarding an animal, a decision which was based on their best information, veterinary advice, resources, and sense of what was manageable for them, at that point in time……and that decision was vigorously debated by various rescue groups and individuals. One group in particular, which devotes a considerable section of its website to derogatory commentary about the SPCA, publicly attacked not only the SPCA’s recent decision but also anyone from other organizations who dared to voice support for the SPCA.

All animal rescue organizations make unpopular decisions from time to time. All animal rescue organizations have to face financial and human resource realities. All animal rescue organizations have “planes that crash”. But when it comes to the SPCA, I can think of no organization that on such a wide-spread basis does so much in this province to educate the public, to provide care for animals, to confront issues of cruelty and neglect, all on the same non-profit, donation-based budget as every other rescue organization.

Every day, at the SPCA shelter near me, every dog gets walked. Every Single Day. Every day, at the SPCA shelter near me, every dog receives personal attention. Every Single Day. Today, a dog whose penis had been virtually ripped off received his reconstructive surgery, another went in for her spay, a third was hopping around the office while she recuperated from surgery to fix internal injuries caused by someone’s boot. There isn’t a week goes by that my heart isn’t touched by the survival stories of animals in the SPCA’s care, and that I don’t feel a deep, deep gratitude to the staff and volunteers at my SPCA and at others all over the province.

Animal rescues are a lot like airplanes – you only hear about the ones that crash. It’s time to recognize the everyday successes, the thousands of animals who are helped every day and the thousands of people who help them. It’s time to acknowledge and celebrate safe landings.

To do anything less is to lose sight of the reality.



**( Note: I use the word 'animal rescue' very broadly in this entry, to encompass all not-for-profit groups and individuals who help bring animals to safety - from the individual working out of their home to foster, train, vet, and place in appropriate homes dogs that no one wanted, to community-based shelters that take in strays and owner-surrenders, to the province wide organizations like the SPCA who work on a much broader and more public level.)

One Smug Cat

Caught in the act

Someone forgot to replace the lid on the kitty treat jar while someone took Oliver out for his morning walk. Or maybe a certain cat has developed very dextrous paws. Either way, a certain cat's dinner rations will be reduced this evening!

Who, me????

(Oliver, on the other hand, is sulking because the sea walk was SOOOOOO icy with black ice that neither he nor I could negotiate it and so he didn't get his polar bear swim ).

A visit with the piggies

Snack time!

I pulled up to the gate and hopped out of the car. Buddy, the Hearts on Noses dog and official greeter, came bounding up as I slipped the chain off the gate to drive the car up to the house so I could unload some treats.

I was asking Buddy if he was going to stay in the yard while the gate was open, when I heard a familiar sound and glanced up the driveway in time to see Soda and Rickey high-tailing (or high-snouting it) towards me, Rickey squealing away excitedly. As I quickly re-closed the gate (leaving my car on the other side) and walked up the drive to find Janice, several more pigs came tearing around the back of the house and ran full-tilt down the drive to say hello. Clearly, my twelve little fosters still recognized my voice - what a thrill that was!

Foster Mama's here!

Soon I was surrounded by all my foster family except one - Scotch! Where the heck was Scotch? Where else but out in the field with Dior the horse, the object of his affection. Poor Scotch - hopelessly besotted with a horse!

I wuvs you, Dior!

However, strawberries and marshmallows are mighty persuasive and soon he agreed to come over to the field where I was handing out treats to all the pigs. And though he clearly was happy to see me (especially when I started singing him his favourite song) he also took a moment to show me that he is very attached to the Piggy Lady who runs the sanctuary. He rubbed against Janice's legs, bristles up in happiness, and showed me how very content he is with his new surroundings.

I wuvs you, too, Piggy Lady

You takes gooood care of me!

Meanwhile, Buddy was lying down on the grass and soon Whisper (I think - Janice, correct me if I'm wrong! I can't tell from the photo) meandered over and lowered himself down next to his favourite dog. Janice tells me those two have been friends since my twelve foster pigs first moved to the sanctuary - and they proved it by taking turns giving each other little sniffs or kisses as we all (Janice, me and the pigs) sat around chatting.

You don't smell like a pig!

And you don't smell like a dog! But we can still be fwiends!

I walked around the sanctuary giving more treats to the other pigs who were still in their roomy but muddy pens. One of Janice's big jobs for this summer (for which she could use many volunteers) will be to put loads of something - road mulch or pea gravel or board walk - on the paths between the pens and in the pens themselves. Well developed leg muscles and very tall rubber boots are a necessity there at the moment! Comet doesn't seem to mind, but Janice certainly does!

Iz a bit muddy, but you got any tweats fer me????

Carport Penny was having a nap in her nice big house, but agreed to stick her head out of a hole she had made in the blanket so I could take her photo. You may remember Penny could not even walk when she came to the sanctuary and she went through many health crises in her first year there. But now, she is a new pig - the excess weight is gone, her digestive tract is working just fine, and she trots all over the yard when she's not having a midday snooze.

Pig in a blanket

Mouse, who had surgery to remove a huge tumour just about the time Janice moved to the new sanctuary, is still a house pig. That's what happens when you invite a pig inside to convalesce - they get to like it and decide to stay forever. Mouse is quite happy on her blanket in the living room, keeping company with Luke the cat, though she is also very quick to come into the kitchen or the great room when she hears our voices. A pig just never knows when a tasty snack might come her way.

Mouse and her friend Luke

Several dozen more photos and it was time to leave. Here's just a sampling of them:

Buddy

Hi Foster Mama

Snoutie up!

Got any more apples fer me?

Scotch

May I have a treat? Or a scratch?

Fizzy?

Whisper

It is so good to see all the pigs so content in their new sanctuary home. It is a happy place - upraised snouties and smiling piggies can turn anyone's day from dreary to delightful. I encourage you to visit - volunteer an hour, a day, a weekend to give Janice a hand, and go home giggling from the inside out.

Smiling piggy

Emma in Black and White

I've been playing around with some of the many shots I took of Emma this week (Just cropping, and switching them to black and white - I don't do photoshop) for a wall display I'm contemplating. Here's my favourites of the dozens I took. I'd love to know which ones you like best:

Emma - heads up!

Four on the floor

Emma and tongue

Emma resting

Nose to the ground

Here's looking at you


Ears, wrinkles and nose

Happy Emma

Now to work on piggy pics........and, of course, a blurb about my visit to the sanctuary.