Jack’s Walk

H is for happy. ©voyager, all rights reserved

Winter has returned! It’s properly cold (-6°c) and the forecast is predicting snowfall of about 15 cm. over the next 2 days. Then, next week the temp is supposed to rise a few degrees above zero again. Great, it’s another round of snow – shovel – melt – mud, but  I’m not going to complain today.

Instead, I’m going to tell you that’s it’s been a wonderful day here. I awoke to a bright cornflower blue sky full of sunshine, and it made the getting out of bed ever so much easier. I made coffee and drank 2 cups while getting dressed and coifed, then Jack and I took a slow stroll around the neighbourhood. I could see that the sun was sitting higher on the horizon, a sure sign that the days are finally getting longer, and I could feel my mood brighten. The glittering rays of the sun warmed my cheeks and my nose and the bite of cold air couldn’t compete. Neither Jack nor I, wanted to go back inside so we lingered a bit longer at electrical poles and trees. We talked of this and that, as we meandered past the school and towards the park, and we even stopped to sing our song* as a train droned past in the background. When we arrived back home, Jack found a sunbeam in the living room and chose the spot to stretch out and nap. When he awoke a few hours later, we went for another walk, just to enjoy the wonder of the day. Tomorrow will come in its own time and there’s no sense worrying about it. Today, Jack and I lived in the moment and it was grand. I hope your day was just as pleasant.

 

*This is Jack’s favourite song

Jack’s Walk

Jack in the yard today, ©voyager, all rights reserved

We had a few flurries of snow today, but it didn’t amount to much, and it won’t stick around. The ground isn’t frozen yet, and the temp doesn’t want to stay below zero this winter. We’ll get a few relatively cold days at -4°c, which is warmish for here in January, then it swings up to a few degrees above zero and stays there for a few days. I know I’ve been talking a lot about the unseasonable weather this week, but I have one more observation that I want to share. It’s about the grass. I think it’s been growing.

I know that sounds ridiculous, but I can see it with my own eyes. Yesterday when Jack and I were at the park, I noticed that the grass looked green. Not the dull brownish-green of winter, but rather the bright Kelly green of late summer or early autumn. It was shaggy, too, and looked ready for a cut, but maybe that’s the way the parks department left it in the fall. I wasn’t really paying attention, so who knows. I do remember how my own grass was left in the fall, though, and it was a lot shorter than it is now. Our grass cutting service came by on Halloween and did the last cut for the year, and it was left nicely short and snipped. Then November got cold and nasty and I didn’t pay a lot of attention to the grass anymore.

Until today, when I checked it with a critical eye. It is definitely looking shaggier than it did in November. I can’t prove it. I didn’t think to take measurements at the time, and it wouldn’t make sense to take measurements now, but it looks like it could use a cut. Maybe there’s another piece of evidence, though – Jack. More specifically, Jack’s feet. My Bubba is allergic to grass, and he takes a mild steroid combined with an antihistamine in the summer. We usually stop giving it to him around the end of October, and he’s good until spring without it. It’s called a drug holiday, and it’s better for Jack’s overall health.  This winter, we’ve tried several times to discontinue the drug, but within a few days, Jack starts to gnaw and fuss with his feet again, and we have to restart the drug. I thought it might have something to do with road salt because he has less hair this winter, including around his foot pads, but it’s probably the grass. It’s growing.

Jack’s Walk

New Year’s Eve, 2018

The lake in our town was created with the installation of a dam in the early ’60s. It acts as a reservoir for flood management of the downstream Thames River, which runs through many small towns and eventually into the big city of London (Ontario.) Yesterday when I was out driving, I noticed that the river looked full and close to spilling its banks, which is odd because that’s what the dam is supposed to prevent, so this morning I threw a few dog towels in the car and took Jack up to the lake to have a look-see. Before I show you what we found, though, I want you to see what nearly normal looks like. That’s it up there in the first photo, which was taken at the canoe launch on the last day of December 2018, so about a year ago. In summer, the water level reaches all the way to the feet of the big trees in the photo, but in winter they keep it much lower. In fact, the water level is often so low that you can walk out nearly to the centre of the lake and not get your shoes wet. Here’s Mr. V and Jack doing just that.

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Except for the open water instead of ice, that’s how the lake usually looks in the winter. You can walk on it. (It’s a local haha joke)

Well, today you cannot walk on it. Not even with Jesus’ magical shoes, could you walk on it.

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It’s hard not to like a milder winter, but it comes at a pretty high cost.

See that sign up there on the left post? It’s a warning that the water has bacterial contamination and is unsafe for bathing. Which means that Jack couldn’t go swimming today, because our winters aren’t cold enough for long enough to kill germs anymore.

Jack and I have seen this sign before, but never in January, and it makes me think about a few things.

  1. 1) Climate change is happening so fast that I can see it from year to year.
  2. 2) Are we too late to fix it? and
  3. 3) Is humanity doomed?
  4. 4) Why isn’t there a dog depicted on the sign?

Jack’s Walk

An early spring flood. ©voyager, all rights reserved

My girlfriend, Janet, came by today and helped me to reorganize my closet, which turned out to be a much bigger job than I’d imagined. Jack loves his Aunt Janet, and he happily spent the afternoon lounging on the bed supervising, and asking for love and cookies. The love was lavishly showered upon him, but the cookies were harder to come by. Jack knows which pocket carries the cookies, and he shamelessly reaches out to take a sniff and give Janet his “I am a poor starving puppy. Won’t you please take pity and share the cookie in your pocket with me?” look. Janet was a Special Education teacher for many years, and she’s mostly immune to pleading, though, which confuses Jack a bit. He calls her ” Aunt hardass” sometimes, but in a sweet, I really, really love her kind of way. She really, really loves him, too, and always gives him one or two cookies so he shouldn’t complain.

Jack and I did also get out for a walk this morning and we were dismayed to see the creek has flooded its banks in the park and at the adjacent golf course. We’ve had a lot of rain recently, and flooding isn’t unusual here, but it is at this time of year. I’m used to seeing this in the early spring, not the dead of winter, but maybe this is the new normal. Thankfully, the ground isn’t frozen, or the flooding would be worse. Not so thankfully, a friend with apple trees noted that some of his trees had early buds, which could be disastrous for the many orchards in our area. I don’t like this new normal, nor does Jack. He prefers to wade in the ankle-deep creek when it’s still. This chest-deep swiftly flowing water is for young dogs and ducks in a hurry, not for Jacks and voyagers.

Jack’s Walk

A dusting of snow that didn’t survive the above zero temps of the day. ©voyager, all rights reserved

Jack is not happy today. Not happy at all. We put a new shelf in my closet this afternoon, and poor Bubba was greatly inconvenienced by the whole affair. It started out badly when I emptied the closet onto my bed, which happens to be Jack’s favourite place to rest in the afternoon. He paced up and down the side of the bed, looking up at the heap and making little crying noises, asking for help. So I cleared an area and gave him a boost because he’s old and I’m soft. Jack finally settled with his head on my pillow while we got down to measuring and marking. That’s when things went south again, for Jack, because next came the whine of the electric drill. It woke him with a start and then it droned on and off unpredictably. Jack isn’t one to complain, but I could see by the set of his ears that he was annoyed. His eyes were grimly shut, and they flinched at the inner canthus with each kick of the drill. Then peace for a few minutes, and I could see Jack’s features soften until the heavy, dull thud, thud, thud of the hammer and finally a bit of swearing when the humans among us concluded that the custom cut coated metal shelf was a smidge too long. Just a smidge, but too long is too long. So then the party took a break while more tools were gathered and more swearing was said, and then the humans moved into the kitchen to use the angle grinder (FUN!) That was a new noise to Jack, and his curiosity got the best of him, and he meandered down the hallway to see what we were up to. Well, his eyes got wide at the sight of sparks flying all around us, but he didn’t utter a sound as he calmly turned right and walked into the living room. Whatever we were up to, Jack wanted no more part of it, and he flicked his tail at us as he ambled out of sight. He spent the rest of the afternoon on the carpet in front of the fire as we wrestled the shelf into place, and it must have been a real hardship for him because this evening, he is still out of sorts. Sheesh, Bubba. You didn’t even do any work.

Jack’s Walk

Shovel Face ©voyager, all rights reserved

It’s melting! Rapidly melting! It’s +6°c today (-6°c yesterday), and we’re saying bye, bye to all the snow again. That would be the snow that I’ve shovelled twice and will no doubt shovel a third time because it’s going to be warm and rainy for a couple of days with snow expected again by Sunday night and then more melting next week. Sheesh! Snow… Shovel… Melt… Mud. Snow, shovel, melt, mud. I’m trapped in the back aching, snow moving, muddy, messy, messed-up Canadian version of the Groundhog Day of Climate Change. Since it’s still January, it will, of course, get cold again after that and I can only hope it will stay that way.

There. I’ve said it. I want January to be cold. It’s supposed to be cold. The lakes should be covered in ice, the ground should be frozen solid, Jack should have more hair than this and I should be bitching about how fucking cold it is, not about this crap.*

 

*Sorry, Australia. I know this crap is so much better than what you’re dealing with, but Father Weather won’t let me share. Be safe.

 

Jack’s Walk

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It sifts from Leaden Sieves – (291)

 

It sifts from Leaden Sieves –
It powders all the Wood.
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road –

It makes an even Face
Of Mountain, and of Plain –
Unbroken Forehead from the East
Unto the East again –

It reaches to the Fence –
It wraps it Rail by Rail
Till it is lost in Fleeces –
It deals Celestial Vail

To Stump, and Stack – and Stem –
A Summer’s empty Room –
Acres of Joints, where Harvests were,
Recordless, but for them –

It Ruffles Wrists of Posts
As Ankles of a Queen –
Then stills it’s Artisans – like Ghosts –
Denying they have been –

      by Emily Dickinson

 

Jack’s Walk

More freshly fallen snow today. ©voyager, all rights reserved

Considering the climate crises in other parts of the world, I have nothing to complain about, but I’m going to anyway. Things just aren’t normal around here. Seriously, enough with the ping-pong weather already. On Friday, we arrived home from Montreal to 4°c weather and mostly bare lawns. I was feeling a bit smug after all the snow I shovelled while we were in Montreal, but then, on Saturday and Sunday, it snowed here, about 15 cm worth, and I remembered that this is Canada in January and snow is normal, so I just got on with it and shovelled. I figured that the previous few above zero days here in Ontario was only part of a regular January melt. Then on Monday and Tuesday, the temp was up to 3 or 4 degrees again, and a lot of the new snow melted. This morning, though, the temp plummeted to -6°, and it snowed, about 12 cm worth this time,  so I shovelled again – a bit less enthusiastically this time, though, because it felt like I was shovelling the same snow twice. Now, I see that the forecast is calling for another melt starting Friday with the temperature due to get all the way up to +11°c over the weekend. The temp will drop below that next week but is still set to stay above zero by 3 or 4 degrees. This is not an ordinary January melt.

I remember January melts from when I was a kid in the ’60s. They were a few days of slightly above-freezing temps when the snow melted a bit, making it heavy and ideal for forts and snowballs. Our winter cranky moms kicked us outside, and we’d congregate to play, all of us energized silly by the warmer air. Then it would get cold again and stay that way for 3 more months and often longer. There was none of this up and down cold or fully bare lawns in January. It was still winter. In Canada. And it was snowy, long and bloody cold.

This unpredictably warmer weather has implications for Jack, too. Possibly serious ones. Jack and I like to walk in the woods and in wildish areas, so tick prevention is a must. We’ve always used it on the advice of our vet from the first of June to the first of November. About 2 years ago, our vet added a second tic preventative that Jack takes from the first of March to the first of November. Apparently, ticks are active at temps just slightly above zero, and we have enough of those degree days now in early spring that ticks have become a concern. How much longer before ticks are a concern all year round and then what? Mosquitos in March?

Jack’s Walk

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Jack has had a very lazy day today. He usually gets up with me in the morning around 8 or 8:30 and has his breakfast while I make coffee. This morning, Jack didn’t get out of bed until 11:30. I awoke with him asleep and snoring under the blankets and curled into my knees. I tried to wake him up, but he wasn’t having any of it. Poke, poke, poke…” Jack, it’s time to get up… Jack,… Bubba.” Nope, that didn’t work. So I upped the ante a bit. “Jack, it’s time for breakfast.” Poke, poke, poke.

“Is Jack a hungry boy?” Still nothing! So now I’m trapped, and I’ve realized that I need to pee, so I straighten my legs and push. Jack didn’t like that at all and he pushed back, digging in his hind feet and arching his back. Did I ever mention that one of Jack’s nicknames is Mr. Heavy Bum? Well, this morning, he used all of that bum against me, and he actually gained ground! Now I’m annoyed and I really, really have to pee, so I scootch up and around him which isn’t an easy thing to do first thing in the morning, but I make it out and to the bathroom on time (yeah!)  On my way to the kitchen, I look back to see Jack stretched out to the size of a Great Dane and snoring again, which makes me feel tender, so I pull the blankets up around him, and go make the coffee, expecting the boy to wander into the kitchen in a few minutes. Nope, it got to be 9 o’clock, then 10 o’clock and finally at 11, I scooped out his kibble and called his name. Still, no Bubba, who I might add, has not peed since 10 last night. That’s 13 hours without a pee. He’s obviously got a better bladder than I do. So I went to rouse him again and this time he sluggishly stretched and oozed off the bed. When his wobbly legs hit the floor, he trod to his food bowl and sleepily bowed his head and inhaled his breakfast. Then he lay down beside his station and his head hit the floor with a bit of a thunk. Sheesh, Bubba, were you out partying while I was asleep? I hitched him up and took him out, figuring he must have to pee by now and he did – right away. On my rose bush. Well, Damn. Anyway, It was a beautiful day outside, and Jack soon picked up and asked to go for a real walk, which we did in the sunshine, under the blue sky, while the snow melted around us. After a few minutes, I commented on Jack’s lazy morning, and he told me that he couldn’t sleep well around Angus and that he’s been extra tired since he got home. I feel the same way, Bubba. I feel the same way.

Jack’s Walk

 

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There really is no place like home. It’s familiar and comfortable and a place where you can relax. It’s the place where you can take off your bra, put on your pink bunny pyjamas and lie in bed all day eating ice cream and watching movies with the sound off and the closed captioning on. Which is precisely what I did on Saturday.

I was totally exhausted from the 2 weeks of constant conversation and also a tiny bit battered. I took a hard fall in Montreal while loading the car, and my left hip took the worst of it. 7 car hours later, the whole left side of my ass was throbbing and magnificently bruised, but I was home. (Thanks for another good drive Mr. Groovy) That was Friday and Saturday morning I awoke to triple gravity, lots of aching, a bit of throbbing and a burning desire for cherry ice cream. So once I managed to get out of bed and get in motion, Jack and I slowly took our morning perambulation around the block, and while I was in gear, I went to get a few necessities. You know, milk, juice, bread, eggs and Chapman’s Deluxe Black Cherry Ice Cream. The rest of the day is a bit hazy, but I’m sure there was a bit of feeling sorry for myself. Sunday morning was much the same, but I did manage to get a few chores done, and today the extra gravity is letting up, and there’s only a teacup’s worth of aching. So, to celebrate, I took Jack out to our wee forest for a walk in the freshly fallen snow. It was a beautiful day with a touch of blue in the sky, and the woods were quiet and tranquil, without a trace of wind to disturb the blanketed snow. Jack and I took our time, but we made it all the way around, and by the time we got back to the car, both of us were feeling closer to normal. These woods are home for us, too, and just like Dorothy said, “There’s no place like home.”

Jack’s Walk

This tree is getting a good workout. ©voyager, all rights reserved

The big news around here today is the sudden closing of one of the largest snow removal contractor’s in the Pointe-Claire area. Snow is big business in this part of the world, and most households contract snow removal for their driveways, and they pay by the season and not by the number of visits.  After a significant snowfall, anyone without a garage moves their car to the side of the street (which side is determined by date) and then the contractors come with their big, tractor-sized, enclosed and comfortable snow blowers. The city itself has most streets plowed quickly, (Montreal does snow removal well) making the whole process quite manageable.

Today, when Jack and I were out for our walk we saw quite a few people shovelling their drives and most of them were grumbling about Bo Pelouse going out of business. It isn’t certain that any of Pelouse’s customers will get a refund and most of the other contractors don’t have the infrastructure to take on new clients at this point in the season. According to the morning news, one other major snow contractor picked up over 2,000 new customers in 24 hours. Thankfully, my mother-in-law uses a different company, who arrived late yesterday to blow out our driveway. My aching back was overjoyed to see them.

Jack’s Walk

Jack is making doggie snow angels. ©voyager, all rights reserved

We had a total of about 15cm of snow overnight, and Jack couldn’t be happier. One of his very most favourite things to do is to lay down in the snow and roll around. He starts with his head, digging in his nose and then sweeping it back and forth. Once his head and whiskers are sufficiently rubbed cold, he wiggles his body around, making sure to get full contact with his belly and boy bits, which will be bright red by the time he comes back inside. I don’t understand the appeal of this behaviour, but it makes my Bubba happy, and that’s good enough for me.

HappyJack! ©voyager, all rights reserved

I, on the other hand, am not that happy about the snow. It’s beautiful, but it’s heavy wet snow.  The kind of snow that packs well and makes a good hard snowball. It’s also the kind of snow that’s heavy to shovel, which is how I spent the morning. Jack and Angus kept me company, but they weren’t much help. It took about an hour to clear the sidewalk and patio, and by the time I was finished, the muscles in my back and shoulders were complaining. They still are, and boy Howdy am I stiff and tired. I doubt that I’ll be able to stay awake until midnight, so I expect I’ll greet the New Year in my sleep. That’s fine with me. I’m not a party kind of person at the best of times, and tonight my bed is where I want to be. Gosh, I must be getting old.

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I would like to take a moment to send my best wishes to our readers in Australia. The news we get from your country is frightening, and you’ve been on my mind. I hope you’re all safe.

 

 

Jack’s Walk

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I hope the weather is good in your part of the world, but here in Montreal, we’re having big weather. Big as in an ice storm that has just morphed into a snowstorm in the last hour or so. I awoke at 3 this morning to the sound of ice ticking the windows and was greeted by windows fully covered in ice. Outside the world was slick and slippery, and by 9 o’clock just getting Jack out for his morning pee was an adventure in balance, which is not always good for me even on normal days. We managed to get the job done without either of us falling, though, which we celebrated with toast. Not a toast, just plain toast and jam which Jack is always happy to share. I decided it was too slippery to go for a walk so we’ve been cloistered indoors all day and feeling restless. Finally, about an hour ago, the sleet turned to snow which oddly made it easier to walk because it provides a bit of traction. It’s snowing hard, though, and soon it will be deep, so I took advantage of the small window of time before we’re deluged to take Jack out. It was actually a pleasant walk, too. The snow muffled the sound of traffic and we took a slow stroll around the neighbourhood, stopping to say Bonjour to a few neighbours and comment on the weather. By the time we got home, both Jack and I were wet and covered in snow, but we were feeling much less restless.

Montreal knows bad weather. It happens often here because of its location on an island in the St. Lawrence River. Maybe tomorrow I’ll tell you the story of the Ice Storm of 1998, which left huge areas without power for as much as two weeks. We were here for that and it was a doozy. This morning we were a bit worried that it could happen again, but the switch to snow is a good sign and totally normal and manageable. By morning we will likely have about 20cm of snow, which is a bit harder to walk in, but it will be good exercise for us both, as long as we remember that there’s a layer of ice underneath all the white stuff and to tread with a  bit of care.

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