Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

Sorry guys, but my noggin is a bit sludged up at the moment, and messages across my brain synapses are travelling by dog-paddled canoe instead of by a flaming arrow. I’m fine,  just tired and still coming down from the play on Wednesday. I’m having a spot of trouble putting sentences together. so I’m going to stop trying.  Before I go, though, I thought I’d leave you with one of my favourite quotes by the inimitable John Steinbeck.  Travels with Charley is the story of Steinbeck’s crossing of America in a custom-made camper set on the bed of a pick-up truck. His traveling companion Charley is his dog, a standard poodle.

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”
         

                    ― John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America

 

 

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

Yesterday and friend and I went on a bus trip to see the Musical “Anastasia” at the Mirvish Theatre in Toronto, and it was spectacular. The sets themselves were sparse with projected background images that contained animated elements. I found that they gave enough info about place and time, yet didn’t take your attention away from the action on stage. The costumes were breathtaking, and there was lots of singing and dancing. The music itself was pleasing, and the story moved along at a good pace. The first half of the play took place in St. Petersburg in 1917 and was a glimpse into Anastasia’s life. The second act took place in Paris 10 years later with the only surviving Romanov, the Dowager Empress, looking for her lost granddaughter Anastasia. I won’t give too much away, because it is worth seeing if you have the chance, but I will say that the Russian Revolution was glossed over. The play is about the mystery of the surviving Anastasia, and the revolution that destroyed her family is noted quickly with gunfire and people fleeing, but it’s mostly kept as a background element.

It made for a fun day out, but it was overstimulating and disrupted my sleep, so today, I’m tired, kinda cranky and craving quiet. Jack wanted a bit of excitement, though, so I reluctantly got up and took him to the Frog Pond trail. We don’t go there often because there are tons of mosquitos, and it gets quite muddy, but things are frozen today, so it seemed safe. And it was perfect, quiet and peaceful for me and full of unusual, new smells for Jack.  That’s a big win-win for a tired, theatre-loving voyager who didn’t want to venture out at all today. It’s one of the many beneficial reasons why it’s good to have a dog… they make you get up and do things that are healthy and rejuvenating. Thanks, Jack. I feel better now.

 

Jack’s Walk

Here’s Jack to remind us that winter doesn’t last forever, even if it feels like it does. ©voyager, all rights reserved

Today you get just the photo of Jack, no story. That’s because I’m off on a bus trip to the big city of Toronto to see the play, Anastasia. I’m going with my friend Jane who took me to Russia in 2017. We toured the royal palaces when we were in St. Petersburg and saw many original dresses and suits from the period, so we’re both looking forward to seeing the sets and costumes. We also visited the graves of the Romanov family, and we’re both pretty curious to see how the story of the Russian Revolution and the execution of the entire Romanov family are handled in musical theatre. I  hope there aren’t too many dirges. Neither of us has seen the 20th Century Fox animated version of Anastasia, so we have no preconceived notions about what to expect.

I’ll let you know all about it tomorrow. In the meantime, Jack is home with his daddy, probably sitting in front of the fire and totally not contemplating political anarchy, revolution, nor the slaughter of an entire dynastic royal family.

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

The past 4 days have been warm around here (6 – 8°c) and rainy. I don’t mind the unseasonable warming, but I do dislike the rain. It sets off my fibromyalgia and doubles the gravity for me. So, I’ve been wishing for the rain to stop. Well, I got my wish this morning when I opened the drapes to see that it was snowing. Great. No rain, but cold again and still precipitating. And the frozen, flakey version of rain needs to be shovelled. This isn’t exactly what I had in mind. Thankfully, the snow didn’t amount to much this morning, because Jack and I were out of the house at 7:30 for an appointment at the vet.

Jack had bloodwork taken back in the spring as part of his senior dog’s annual check-up, and one of his kidney values was a bit elevated. Not by much, but enough that a recheck was warranted. Jack needed to fast for this blood test, so after 8 pm last night, Jack was not allowed any food or treats. You can probably tell by looking at Jack that he carries a few extra pounds. Some of that poundage comes from the bedtime cookie or three that he has at night. Well, last night, no cookies, and it didn’t matter how many times I explained to him the reason why, he kept asking. And asking. And asking. When I finally turned out my light, Jack let loose a small whimper and heaved himself down with a thudding sigh. Yes, Bubba, I know. Now go to sleep, and in the morning you can have a cookie with your breakfast. I didn’t tell him that we’d be going out before breakfast. It seemed best.

So this morning, I wake Jack up at 6:30, and he didn’t want to get up. Good. It allowed me to get ready and have a coffee without any begging. When I was all set to go, I opened the front door and shook Jack’s leash, which brought him stumbling out to the kitchen where he stopped in front of his food bowl and then he looked up at me, asking for food before a walk. “Mommy,” he says, “I can’t go poop if I don’t put any new food in to push it through.” Not going out for poop Bubba, not yet. We’re going to see the nice woman who listens to your heart and gives you liver treats. He’s generally obedient, so he came with me, but he was still looking back at his food bowl as we exited the house. Then, as we were standing on the porch, it occurred to Jack that the nice woman who gives him liver treats also gives him needles in his bum, and he hesitated. I tell him he won’t be getting a needle in the bum, which is true. He’ll be getting the needle in his arm, but I’m a bad parent who just wants to get going so I don’t tell him that. The vet’s office is close by, and it’s all over quickly, and we’re soon on our way home. The first thing Jack did when we got in the door was to go stand in front of his food bowl again, and this time he gave me a hard look that said, “Food. Now.” You betcha, Bubba, but here have a cookie first. He smiled for the first time since supper last night, and I knew all was forgiven. Not forgotten, but forgiven.

The best news is that the vet called about an hour ago to tell me that Jack’s bloodwork has normalized, and all is well.  He’s in excellent condition for a nearly 12-year-old puppy. Good Boy, Bubba.

Jack’s Walk

A new friend for Jack? ©voyager, all rights reserved

When we walk around our neighbourhood during the day, Jack and I have a regular route. We walk up to the high school, then down toward the park and then loop around back to the far end of our own street and then it’s a straight line to home again. This route is Jack’s choice because it gives him the best chance of getting a few love pats along the way. The walk takes us past his teenaged fan club and the home of his best dog friend, Leo. It also allows me to avoid problems because I know where all the other dogs live along the route. Most dogs are friendly and get along well with Jack, but there are one or two exceptions. There’s a Jack Russell at the end of our block who strains at his leash snarling and barking at Jack madly. We only know him as “Shut-up you bastard,” but I’m sure he has another name. I’d stop to ask except he won’t stop barking long enough to speak to his person, a frail elderly man who likes to holler. There’s also Izzy, a pug, who wants to challenge Jack. Jack picked him up once and spat him out again, without injury I should add, but it only made Izzy more determined to get Jack. So now, we always cross the street to avoid him. Izzy has a great person named Linda who Jack and I both like, but she understands that Izzy has issues and always controls him from her side of the street. Recently, though, neighbours a few blocks down have gotten a new dog, and it barks at us every day no matter what time we go by. It’s always at the window, I imagine because his people work and he is watching for them. The new dog not only barks, but he jumps around a lot, occasionally banging into the window. Jack says he wants to be friends and tells me that we should knock on their door one evening to meet him when his people are at home. I think we should wait until spring, when the new dog is more settled and we can meet casually outdoors. I tell Jack that not everyone wants a voyager at their door with an 85-pound hairy goofball, asking if their dog can come out to play. Jack says he can’t understand why, and furrow’s his brow at me. Sheesh, alright, Bubba! Maybe I’ll go alone to take them a few Christmas cookies and check the situation out. If they’re agreeable, perhaps I’ll take Jack for a playdate. I think the new dog does look like a fun sort of fellow, just look at that smile, and its barking and antics do seem more playful than aggressive. Who knows, maybe Leo has some competition for the title of Jack’s Best Friend?

Jack’s Walk

Bubba’s growing hair like a buffalo.

Today, Jack and I encountered a new danger with the ice. Instead of worrying about falling on the ice, today, we were worried about the ice falling on us. It’s a bit above zero today, and all the ice on the trees is starting to melt and let go. Throughout our entire walk, we heard the ice cracking overhead and saw pieces of ice fall around us. Twice I was hit in the head with small pieces, and by the time we got home, I was getting nervous that a more substantial chunk might get me. Even Jack was getting a bit antsy, which surprised me. Typically, Jack is calm about things falling around him. Once, in the kitchen, I dropped a large pot full of cold water and carrots right beside him. It made a colossal clatter, and water and carrot pieces flew around Jack like a cartoon explosion. It was theatrically spectacular, and it made me jump, but  Jack didn’t flinch. Nope, instead, he waited a second or two and then started to eat the carrots closest to him. He said he was helping me clean-up. So a few bits of ice falling are nothing compared to that. Perhaps he’s just used to things falling in the kitchen. It often happens, although not usually on the scale of dropping an entire pot, but Jack knows that the kitchen is a place where things unexpectedly fall. Things falling outdoors is unusual and kinda strange, and mummy doesn’t like it. Even though my leash handling doesn’t change, Jack can feel all my shit through the leash, and I vice versa. It’s part of how we talk to each other. So, I knew Bubba was feeling a bit on edge. At about the halfway point of our walk around the neighbourhood, we sped up as much as the ice beneath our feet would allow. And we were both grateful when we spied our own home ahead of us. We made it safely, although our own birch tree dropped a cascade of ice beside us on our way past it. This made me extra grateful because I was worried that this graceful, slender tree would lose branches with the ice, and it hasn’t. So far.

All in all, it’s good to be home. Jack wants to make cookies, and it does seem like a good day to bake. You’ll know to find us in the place where good things drop unexpectedly.

Jack’s Walk

Early December Morning, ©voyager, all rights reserved

 

We had a gentle, light dusting of snow this morning, and it was just enough to make the world look fresh and pretty for a while. That’s one of the things I like about winter, the way that snow covers a landscape with a coat of crisp, clean stillness. Ogden Nash says it much better than me, though, so I’ll let him.

 

Winter Morning Poem

Winter is the king of showmen,
Turning tree stumps into snow men
And houses into birthday cakes
And spreading sugar over lakes.
Smooth and clean and frosty white,
The world looks good enough to bite.
That’s the season to be young,
Catching snowflakes on your tongue!
Snow is snowy when it’s snowing.
I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.

– Ogden Nash

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

Well, Jack and I did venture out yesterday. Twice. About 1 in the afternoon, the sun came out for an hour or so, and the sidewalks got all melty and full of slush. It seemed like a good time to go for a walk, and so we did. It was a delightful walk, too. Sloppy and cold, but not really icy. The sun started to melt the ice off the trees and the wires, but it didn’t shine long enough to raise the temp above zero, and so today, the trees are still frosted. Jack and I went out again after supper, and the sidewalk slush had turned into rough frozen ice. It wasn’t as slippery as I’d thought. The snow that covered the ice helped rough it up, and the soles of my boots were mostly able to find traction. Even Jack managed better with only 1 slip and no falls. Today the world remains frosted with ice and snow, and I love the way things look. There’s so much more light, and it reflects like millions of tiny, shiny diamonds in the glow of streetlights at night and the short glimpses of the sun today. The walking is difficult, but not dangerous. Most people have shovelled, and what ice remains is rough and well trampled. We need to go slow and shuffle a bit, but it’s so pretty outside I don’t mind.

 

Here’s another song for today. I sing this song when I’m on the beach ins the summer looking for sea glass because they shine like diamonds when you find them. Today the whole world is made of diamonds. And of course, we’re all as bright, and beautiful as diamonds ourselves, so let’s all shine a bit today, too.

 

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

©voyager, all rights reserved

We had freezing rain all day yesterday, and it’s left our world coated in ice and a perilous place for walking. Jack and I set out early yesterday morning, just as the ice was starting, because I thought it might be the only window of opportunity for the whole day and I was right, The ice began to coat everything quickly, and a minute or two after leaving the house it was already slick walking. We went once around the big block, very slowly and cautiously. Mostly I walked on the grass, but Jack preferred the sidewalk because the grass was sharp with ice, and he was wearing vaseline boots that don’t have a decent protective tread* like mine. Jack did fine until we reached the places where the sidewalk slopes. Even four-footed Jack struggled once or twice with his balance on the sloped driveways. Poor Bubba found himself sliding sideways toward the street a few times, and in trying to correct himself, he had one or another of his back legs slip out. Then I’d see him freeze and dig his toenails into the ice and look up to me, asking what to do next. I encouraged him to use the grass a few times, but he said it hurt his feet and that made sense, so then I encouraged him to walk on the street, but Jack’s been raised to stay away from the road, and it’s so ingrained that he doesn’t like to do it. By the time we got home, the ice was already building up a thick coating on everything, and we both felt lucky to reach the house upright and undamaged. We didn’t leave the house again for the rest of the day.

©voyager, all rights reserved

©voyager, all rights reserved

We may not leave the house today, either. Today, we’re getting snow on top of the ice, making things even slipperier and more dangerous. No one has yet put down any salt, and it’s treacherous out there. Jack says he can use the backyard if he needs the toilet, and I thanked him very much for his consideration. Jack has seen me go Boom!, on the ice a few times in his life, and it always upsets him. When it’s slippery, Jack automatically slows down, and as he walks, he keeps looking over his shoulder to see how I’m doing. He’s such a good boy. Maybe I should try to take him out – just around the small block. What do you think – Should I stay or should I go?

 

  • I tried a set of real dog boots for Jack a few years back, and he wanted no part of them!

 

 

 

 

In Need of Cute

©Giliell, all rights reserved

The bunnies, back in late summer. I think we can all do with some cute. You know your blogging team is all struggling with personal and health shit, so, sorry for neglecting you a tad. I had a busy week, because the world is a shitty place for kids and sometimes you can help, at other times you can’t and that’s the hardest part because all you can do then is keep your files up to date to prove you did everything you could. I’m taking that kind of shit hard. And because my mind is constantly working on 10 things at the same time while also forgetting some rather simple things I managed to damage both my front and my back bumper in two different but equally stupid events the same day after 20 years of driving without any accidents. Duh.

Jack’s Walk

I think tree roots look like dinosaur toes. ©voyager, all rights reserved

Boy, am I ever glad to see the end of this week. It’s been a week full of frustration and a bit of embarrassment. I’ve been tackling the list of things that need to be done when a parent or any other person dies, only it hasn’t been going as well as I’d hope. To begin with, I completely forgot about an appointment at the bank on Monday. Then, the very next day, I managed to completely forget about an appointment with my dentist. I called both places as soon as I remembered, and they were gracious about rescheduling, but I hate to inconvenience other people. It makes me feel stupid and appear scatterbrained, neither of which is generally true.

It’s because I’ve not really recovered from caring for mom before she died, and my fibromyalgia has been acting up. In the days before mom died, I knew I was burning out. I’d had 2 months worth of 8 – 10 hour days trying to keep mom calm and quiet, which didn’t really happen until the last few days of her life, so it felt a lot like bailing out a sinking boat in the middle of the ocean. The need was constant and you couldn’t relax. Even when I came home, I could still hear her calling for help. It disturbed my sleep at night. I lost my appetite and it’s only thanks to regular meals provided by friends that I didn’t completely stop eating. I put so many of my own things off until later, that when mom did finally die I had a long list of to-do’s that suddenly needed to be done plus a list of extra things to do for the estate. I’m generally pretty chill, but I’ve been feeling rattled, and I’ve been having more pain. Then there’s the brain thing, that I struggle to describe. When I was Case Managing, I carried a large and complex caseload in a sizeable territory, and every day was full of multi-tasking and constant reprioritization, so I know that my brain used to be capable of these things. I used to read 2 – 4 books a week when I was working and a book a day when on vacation. I always found learning new things easy. Now, I struggle to read. I don’t remember characters, and I lose pieces of the plot. I’m lucky to read one book a week and it feels like work. Learning new things has become time-consuming, difficult and taxing for all the same reasons. My brain is a sieve and things just fall through. I don’t know how to describe this to people except to say that I have a terrible memory or that my brain feels sluggish – neither of which is exactly right. I feel like Algernon near the end of the book Flowers for Algernon, as things are being lost. It’s all very frustrating and when I’m tired or stressed it’s at its worst. That’s the sort of week I’ve had. Next week, I have new appointments with the estate manager at the bank and with the dentist. I hope to redeem myself and apologize to both, on time and in person. I also have a shiny, new to-do list, and I think it’s well organized to start. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. My mom left me executor of her will, and I will find the way – just maybe not the express route.

The Art of Book Design: The Black Dog

A.G. Plympton. The Black Dog and other stories. Illustrated by the author. Boston, Roberts Brothers, 1896.

I promised Jack that I would read him this story on the weekend. His best friend is a black dog named Leo, and Jack is convinced that black dogs are the most fun. I hope the story is full of adventure with a happy ending. Those are the sort of stories that Jack likes best. Me, I enjoy reading stories out loud that are full of interesting characters so I can make up voices and play-act a bit. Jack usually pretends that he doesn’t care about that, but I know he loves it, too.

Jack’s Walk

Late afternoon at the river ©voyager, all rights reserved

The Landscape looks mostly brown and grey, but there are bits of colour here and there. The dogwood is bright red and there’s a bit of blue in the sky that’s reflected in the water and some of the grass is still green, but overall the landscape is hibernating and gone fallow. This is the dread time of year for me. There’s so little light and the days end so quickly. This photo was taken around 3:30 in the afternoon and by 4:30 it had gone full dark.

Jack’s after supper walk is now always in the dark and I have to push myself to get out. I don’t mind the cold. I can dress for that, but I do mind the dark. Generally, I feel safe walking with Jack. From a distance, he can look intimidating and he’ll bark his big boy bark if he’s feeling nervous or uncertain. He’s also very protective of me. Overall I feel fairly safe in my neighbourhood, but things have happened here just like they happen everywhere. In 2009 an 8-year-old girl was abducted while walking home from school. Her name was Tori Stafford and her home was just a few houses down my street. She was raped, tortured and murdered. I try not to think about that sort of thing when I walk, but I go past that house nearly every day and it’s hard to forget. I know I’m not a kid, but I’m small, and I couldn’t protect myself well and sometimes I get nervous. Jack picks up on that and it makes him nervous for no reason so I work to stay calm and to keep my leash skills confident. I feel it most often when a young man is approaching me on the sidewalk. Often, I’ll simply cross the street, but there are places where I don’t like to do that because of other dogs. Once, I was walking Jack at night and a car stopped beside us. I watched a young man in the back seat kick the female driver in the head and then he exited the car, hurling expletives and he then approached Jack and me, muttering about the “bitch” that was driving. I couldn’t walk past him and I didn’t want to turn my back on him, but then another fellow got out of the car and apologized to me and led the angry man away. He obviously saw I was frightened and came to help. Jack didn’t do anything except wag his tail at the angry man – maybe he was trying to defuse the situation, but I was really scared that night. It’s another month before the shortest day of the year arrives and then I can slowly see the days get longer. Until then, Jack and I will carry on bravely through the night.