Magic moments to soothe the soul

Sunrise in Osborne Bay

Life last week was full of dogs, and especially of walking with dogs.   In addition to my Mitzi and Eddie, Sadie B is here for a three week stay.  Then I got a call from the hospital that a woman on the next street had been taken to emergency during the night and could I please look after her dog for a few days.  Her dog is a very large, unneutered male smooth coated collie who, while fairly well behaved, is somewhat lacking in doggy social graces – he is very pushy and won’t leave other dogs alone. So he couldn’t come here (especially as Sadie B would NOT appreciate a dog that invades her space), but a friend and I agreed to share responsibility for looking after the dog in his own house - letting him out, feeding him, taking him for walks.   

And so it was that I took the first morning shift – his mama was an early riser, so he was used to being let outside to do his business at around 6 AM.  I rose at 5:45, quickly downed a cup of coffee, pulled on sweats and jacket, and trudged around the block to let him out.  As his yard isn’t fenced, I wasn’t about to let him off leash and he wasn’t about to do his business on leash unless I took him for at least a little walk.  So down to the corner park we went.  Business done, I took him back home, fed him, and turned back towards my house, my mouth already tasting that second cup of coffee.  My friend would take the collie for a longer walk at a more humane 9 AM. 

But as I headed home, I noticed a glimmer of morning light rising behind Salt Spring Island – a hint of yellow and pink casting itself across the bay. 

And so I decided to forgo that coffee, grab Eddie’s leash and the camera, and go for a sunrise stroll.  It was so worth it. 

That evening,  after a day of walking dogs and playing fetch a zillion times with Sadie B,  I went over to let the collie out for one last bedtime pee around 10 pm.  The night was moonlit, the town quiet, the air crisp.   I decided to squeeze in one more walk for Eddie – night time walks in this small town are often my favourite.  And again nature worked its magic, for as we walked along a particularly dark side street toward  a well lit crossroad, we heard and then saw three deer – a doe, a buck and a fawn – leaping and prancing like Santa’s reindeer as they bounded along the centre of the tree-lined main avenue in town. Beautiful. 

The deer are plentiful this time of year, making their way down to the beach, across the parks, along the roads.  

A fawn hides in shrub, waiting for its mama -
a typical sight around town these days.

Two nights later, Eddie and I saw what I first thought were two dalmations in the middle of the road.  As we got closer, I realized they were two tiny spotted fawn, frozen in darkness and mesmerized by the glow of my flashlight, mama nowhere in sight.  Eddie sat quietly by my side as I watched to see what they would do.  A car speeding for the ferry appeared and I jumped into the road to slow him down – my reflective vest blazing and my light waving frantically.  Still the fawns stayed put, as he slowed to a crawl and drove around them.  When all was dark and still again,  I saw the mama – bounding across the green space by the terminal, leaping over the chain link fence, and quickly hustling the little ones into the brush on the other side of the road. 

I saw them again late last night  – mama deer coming down a lane just as Eddie and I turned a corner.  She stopped and watched us, as we stopped and watched her – keeping our distance so not to alarm her if the fawns were nearby.  Then as the moon slid from behind a cloud, I saw the babies – this time on the greenspace – and watched as mama again leapt the fence  to be with her little ones. 

There they stood, mama and her fawns together,  silhouetted against the moonlit sea.  Magic moments to soothe the soul.  What a beautiful way to end a day.

To My Mother on her 95th Birthday

Reflections along the dike

Mom,
You have been there for me through scraped knees and broken hearts.
You sewed up my teddy bears and opened up your arms.
You listened when I was struggling and applauded when I achieved.
You mothered, not smothered,
And comforted, but never pandered.

You taught me about wild flowers and mountain trails,
And you chased bears from our campsite by banging pots and pans.
You walked with me on beaches, and drove with me on backroads,
Still eager to explore, even in your eighties.

And now I write you letters that someone reads to you,
And the phone is silent, for it is too hard for you to use,
Speech slurred, memory foggy, hands unsteady,
Body trapped in chair or bed,
But heart still loving me as mine loves you.

Today you are 95.
I walked the dike of the Cowichan River estuary
with a friend and the dogs,
And I thought of  how you would have loved this place.
And though you cannot see this, mom,
These pictures are for  you -
Because you were right there,  with me, deep inside my heart.

May you always know you are loved.

Cowichan River

Mary's dog, Heidi, looking toward Cowichan Bay

Heron taking flight

Mary and Sadie B
(who is staying with me)

Red seeds and white lichen.
Winter will soon be here. 

Love,
Jean.

THIS POST IS FOR MAJOR BO....

And Deli (now Ruby) and Hubbard and Zuke and Nugget and Summer and Acorn and Patti and Peanut and Pumpkin - aka The Butternut Squash Kids (or Lucy Loo's pups).

HAPPY THIRD BIRTHDAY!  

Major had to send me an email to remind me he is three years old today - shame on me for not remembering!  And he is in training with his dad as a St. John's Ambulance Therapy Dog, preparing to bring happiness to people in assisted living situations.  What a great vocation for an SPCA alumni.

Wow - three years since those little tiny wiggle butts appeared courtesy of their butternut squash mama. What a fostering experience THAT was! If you missed those posts, here's the post of the day they were born  (well, actually the day after, as the day of their birth was rather - um - busy!), and here's the post the day they left.

And this one is Major Bo's own very, very, very special story. Have your kleenex ready. It is quite possibly my favourite story on the whole blog.

I smile every time I think of those pups, and I hope they are all doing well - and Lucy too, of course!

Lucy, two weeks before delivery -
the shape of a Butternut Squash

Pups on their Birth Day.

Major Bo at about six weeks old
(c) Jean Ballard 2010

Major Bo January 2013
(c) Jean Ballard 2013

They are always in my heart.

Possible Breaking News - UPDATE!

UPDATE:
As far as we can determine, the information below is NOT correct.  One importer spent hours on the phone, being passed from government agency to government agency, and was finally told by the vet responsible for some aspect of the import regulations that the statement ONLY applies to pups under the age of 8 months, and they have only ever been allowed to be imported to rescues from disaster areas.  Apparently the border crossing security people were ignoring this clause, as were importing rescues, so the statement was meant to reinforce it.  Again, the vet stressed it ONLY applies to pups under the age of 8 months.

HOWEVER,  that said, today at 11:00 AM I accessed the AIRS sytem, searched using "dogs over 8 months" being imported from California to Canada, and the statement below is at the top of the page on regulations.  

My best guess is that someone with some inside connection to a registered importer or government employee with rights to post on AIRS has put this up as a hoax.

I am still awaiting confirmation from CFIA, and won't post the third and last of the importing series until that is received.  

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Original post:


The following statement has come through the Automated Import Reference System (AIRS), an electronic system for distributing information as quickly as possible to various Canadian government agencies and interested parties:  

"Please note that the importation of rescued dogs will 

no longer be permitted after November 1, 2013."

(Source: http://airs-sari.inspection.gc.ca/airs_external/english/decisions-eng.aspx )

This is in recommended directive to the Canadian Border Agency.  We will confirm it with CFIA (Canadian Federal Inspection Agency, the branch of government responsible for the regulations on importation of dogs) when their offices open tomorrow. 

To My Regular Readers.....

Fall Reflections

I have made a decision.  My blog was always a place to make you smile, share each day's magic moments, create a collective "Awwwww" over something one of the animals did, bring me - and you, I hope - peace and happiness. I lost my focus with the whole importation/ethical rescue thing, and it all began with facebook.

Ever since I started using facebook, all the Oh My God This Is Awful stories and pictures have popped up on my newsfeed, all the outrage and debate and defensiveness and frustration has come flooding out of my computer every time I turn it on - in comments and emails, on facebook and blogs.  In the last two days, another 500 people viewed those importation posts - it is clearly experiencing a whole new round of facebook shares among importers and their supporters. And I am deleting nasty, unhelpful comments and emails as fast as they come in.

And to be honest, I am sick of it.  It is like a never ending newsreel of Bad Bad Bad news.  It's not who I am or how I want to live my life.  I prefer to be an ostrich.

So later today I will write one more blog about importing and rescue - much of which will be in point form - to bring closure to that issue.  It will be posted tonight or tomorrow morning.  I will not publish any comments on it, nor respond to any emails about it.  Take it for what it is worth, and if it is worth nothing to you then ignore it.

And tomorrow, I shall delete all facebook contacts who are not family or personal friends, I shall unharness myself from groups and loops that I don't want to be caught up in, I shall go back to my quiet 'I help-with-homechecks-and-transports' type of rescue work only, and I shall disconnect from the negativity that is pulling me down, affecting my sleep and my health and peace of mind.

Tomorrow night, I shall resume my old style of blogging - frequent, short, happy stories and photos. Starting with a beautiful morning sunrise from last week, and a story of some deer.  Life is too short to get bogged down in crap.

I hope you will say "Welcome Back".

jean

Spinning in a Vortex

No, I have not abandoned the blog, nor the series I am doing on the importation of dogs.  I am, however, spinning in a vortex - or it feels like it.  Family matters, rescue matters, dog matters, life matters - an abandoned dog (now safe), a neglected and abused dog (now safe), a visiting dog (Sadie B), a neighbour in hospital leaving her dog to be cared for, mom not doing well, and a newspaper column to write (done!).  And, of course, all the usual stuff.

That would be ME - I'm "the usual stuff". 

Me to!  I'm usual!

Before using the word "vortex" in the title of this blog, I double checked  the dictionary to make sure it was what I thought it was.  It was.  But I had to smile when I saw this statement in Wikipedia describing vortices:  "Once formed, vortices can move, stretch, twist, and interact in complex ways. A moving vortex carries with it some angular and linear momentum, energy, and mass."  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vortex)

So maybe I'm not spinning in a vortex.  Sounds more like I AM the vortex.  

I promise to get back to blogging soon.  

Not 'til after you throw the damn ball, lady!

Remembering Bob

Bob looks out over the estuary
at Swallowfield

Longterm readers of my blog may not recall meeting Bob but will remember, I'm sure, the Irish Wolfhounds who shared his life.

On Thursday night, kind, gentle Bob passed away from a sudden heart attack at his home.  Those of us who hiked with him are in shock, and our hearts weep for Bonnie and wolfhounds Drayann and Keegan.

I first met Bob in 2007, before I even made the move to Crofton.  I had come to meet Caleb, the pitti cross I was to adopt from the Cowichan SPCA.  During my three-day stay, I was invited to take Caleb and my collie Charley for a hike to Swallowfield with the Wednesday Walking Group - a group of dog-loving friends who took the dogs out for a hike together every Wednesday afternoon. Bob, Bonnie and their wolfhounds were part of that group.  I liked them immediately.

From early 2009, in the months before moving here permanently, I frequently travelled over here to check on the status of the work on my newly-purchased house and invariably joined the group on their walks.  And for the next year or two, I walked with them weekly.  And got to know Bob, the only male  (human male, that is) in a group of about 5-7 women and up to 16 or 17 dogs.

Heading out - women, dogs, and Bob. 

Bob and Bonnie and dogs
on Swallowfield estuary

Bob had an quiet, easy manner that immediately put me, the newcomer, at ease.  He had a ready smile that spread to his eyes, and a gentle way with all the dogs.  He shared tidbits of knowledge with me constantly - especially of the nature around us - and introduced me to wild onions, sweet tiny yellow plums, grapes growing along an old abandoned foundation of a wall, apple-pear trees growing wild on the estuary.

Bob offers me a handful of sweet yellow plums
gone wild on the trails at Swallowfield

 

But whenever I think of Bob, I shall remember most of all the first time we took my dog Sadie to Swallowfield.  She was trotting down the path with the other dogs, ahead of  the humans as we strolled along.  As we crested the final hill before the river, the dogs raced to the water.  Most were swimmers and divers - but not my Sadie. And, unfortunately, she didn't realize there was a slippery bank overhanging the river straight ahead.  While the other dogs swerved to the left to dive in at their usual spot, Sadie tumbled over the bank right into the wet, wet, wet stuff two or three feet below.   Instantly, Bob was lying flat on the ground, arms deep in water, hauling out my seventy pound, wet, hairy, panicky collie cross. 

Ah almost dwowned!  Bob saved me!

Bob and Bonnie had three wolfhounds on that hike - two of them, Blue and Mara, have since passed away.  I know they bounded forth, along with other dogs who shared Bob and Bonnie's lives,  to meet Bob as he reached the Rainbow Bridge.  And I'm just as sure that loping along behind, with her characteristic waving of her ruff and tail, was my Sadie, eager to greet her friend and ready to help guide him to the other side.  

The world has lost a good man, a gentle soul, a friend to many, both human and canine.

Rest in peace, Bob, surrounded by the spirits of many furry companions.  We shall miss you. 

Bonnie, know that we are here for you.  Hugs and tears. 

Heading home

Interlude 1: Mitzi and Me and a Camera makes three

Gordon Bay Provincial Park

Writing about the heavy stuff in rescue is stressful.  Responding to the backlash, even more so.  Add to that concerns about my mom's health, and an abandoned dog drama that unfolded just across the back lane, and I was about ready to crawl into a hole, pull the dirt over my head, and never be seen or heard from again.

Stick a flower on my grave and let me be!
(c) Jean Ballard 2013

What I needed was a mental health day - a day away from the computer, the neighbourhood, and people.  Those waiting for post three in the series on importing can wait a day or three - my other readers will no doubt welcome an interlude of  photos and fun.

Anxious  Eddie already had plans to spend the day with Gail and Sadie B - we are trying to get him comfortable at their house so he can stay there when I need to go to the mainland.  So Mitzi and I had a girls' day out.  We packed a lunch and the camera gear and headed off to circle around Cowichan Lake.

It has been summertime HOT here this week, and by the time we were ready to leave at 9:30 AM  I was questioning the wisdom of going.

9:30 AM in the shade of the carport
September 12, 2013

But she pointed out there is air conditioning in the car, and the route is shaded with tall, tall trees much of the way, and as long as I wasn't going to go in any shops or restaurants, she'd be just fine.  So off we went.

It was the best decision I'd made all month.

It's a trip I've been meaning to do since moving to the island four years ago - the last time I took that route was probably fifteen or more years ago when my friends Ann and Ken and I camped in a very small, rough, rutted, but beautifully peaceful forestry site down the far end.

The road - gravel and dusty - hasn't changed much.  Nor have the glorious views.  The Provincial Parks and forestry campsites, however, have changed quite a bit.  Still beautiful, and at this time of year still peaceful, but not so rough, rutted, or small!

Can you get me some water from the tap, mom?

Fancy swimming hole compared to years ago!

Our first stop, shown above, was Gordon Bay Provincial Park.  Dogs aren't allowed on the beach until Sept 15th, so stickler for rules that I am, we stayed on the trails and coveted the cool water of the lake from the trail.  It was worth the stop.  We walked some lovely shady trails, and Mitzi made a new friend:

Lovely shady trail

Mitzi meets another happy little rescue dog
(and NOT an import!)

How come they won't let me on the beach, Mama?

Soon we were back in the car and headed further west along the gravel road on the south shore of the lake, tall rainforest or rocky cliffs on one side, water on the other.  The further west we went, the dustier it got.

The greenery was brownery, heavy with the summer's dust, and the leaves dried up and wrinkled like an ancient woman's skin.  Mitzi wasn't too sure what to make of all the leaves!

Are they  'tato chips?  They is thin and crunchy!

They's weird to walk in!

But it was beautiful.  And peaceful.  And nothing, nothing soothes my soul like being out in nature, next to water, with a canine companion.  Mitzi's a great little travel companion - she lies quietly in her crate in the car, doesn't fuss when I constantly stop to take photos (unlike SOME dogs, Eddie, who think they should get out every time the car stops!) , and is more than happy to explore new trails, check out old parks, check out the views.

View heading down south shore road

We made a longer stop at Heather campsite, a forestry site, as we knew my former neighbour was camped there.  The site has expanded from about 10 sites the last time I visited, to 78 now.  It has a host on site from May till the end of September, chopped wood for purchase, picnic tables and fire circles.  And it is still beautiful.  I think we may go camping there next June or September.

Do we know those people?

View from Heather campsite
West end of  Cowichan Lake

Mitzi loves to paddle in the water -
no encouragement needed!

Finally it was time to head back, this time on the north shore of the lake.  The day was getting late, so I just stopped to take this one photo on the route home.

Next time, we'll do the route in the reverse direction - I saw lots of interesting little parks and viewpoints to explore on the north shore too.

Mitzi says we should do it again tomorrow.
Maybe next week, Mitzi, but not tomorrow. I think you're a wee bit exhausted.

Who, me?