I have a new grand doggy in my life. Bowser is an 8 week old Miniature Schnauzer puppy. He was named after the first Vancouver Island community his new Mom and Dad moved to. Plus it’s gotta be because it rhymes with schnauzer, doncha think? I am looking in on him during the day, while his parents go to work to keep him in toys and treats. Here’s a few words (and pictures) from His Royal Cuteness:
Rock on,
The WB
Note: none of the sea life depicted here was harmed in any way during our class observations. We were observing and listening to our knowledgeable instructor, retired marine biologist and author Rick Harbo. All flipped over rocks were carefully and gently replaced to protect the wildlife revealed.
Rock on,
The WB
One of the thrills for me on my recent trip to Barbados was meeting and being greeted by a dog during my morning beach/boardwalk strolls.
I didn’t meet a lot of dogs on the island but there were 2 (accompanied by their owners) that I saw a few times in the early hours of the day. One was quite elderly and it was sad and painful to watch it hobble along the beach beside its ever watchful mistress.
I was thrilled beyond measure when this dog went out of its way to greet me one morning. It even pressed itself against my leg while I was petting it. Swoon!
This encounter flared up the pilot light of my dog-love furnace. So much so that I have started stalking area humane society adopt-a-dog pages, my thinking being that I could adopt an older dog NOW, that wouldn’t need so much care and training as a new puppy (my original “someday when I am retired” plan).
Unfortunately any suitable dogs I found (in terms of small size and being less allergenic i.e. non-shedding) were loaded with lots of baggage. There were 2 rescues from a puppy mill – neither were house-trained, or knew how to walk on a leash, and one was blind. The recommendations from the humane society were that these dogs needed to be brought into homes that already had a dog, to show them how to be a pet.
Then there was another little fellow, who was used to living in an apartment, whose owner passed away. He needed expensive daily medication to be administered and was prone to seizures. I thought yeah, there’s potential there…and then I saw that his adoption was pending. OK, moving on…
Moving on, there was nothing else that would have been suitable for my home and current lifestyle. Which I guess is for the best. I don’t have a fenced yard and I live downtown, in a second floor apartment.
I also have a jam-packed year in terms of work projects on my plate. Which means there will even more days when I have to leave early/work late, and come in on weekends to get caught up on regular work. Activities not conducive to pet ownership. Especially not pets that need extra care. Like rescues or a new puppy.
Yet, for a few brief moments, I thought this could be my Year of the Dog.
Oh, I’ll probably keep stalking those Humane Society web pages, but I doubt I’ll find that perfect low-maintenance, non-shedding little dog of my dreams. She already exists, but only in my dreams.
Yesterday was Lucy’s birthday. She would have been 18.
Rock on,
The WB
Ever since my Lucy died, I have been confident that I will get another puppy. But that I will wait until retirement to do so. When I will have the time to devote to raising a small pup in the right way – training it and exposing it to all that it needs to process during those crucial early months…in order to develop into a well-rounded, confident companion.
But lately I am wondering when exactly during my retirement will I get another pet? Perhaps not right away. Perhaps I will wait until I am a bit older, and have tamped down my wanderlust a bit. Perhaps I will wait until I move to a more suitable property to keep a dog than my current one. Perhaps then I will get multiple dogs, like Me Too and Mrs. Me Too. Who knows?
I vacillate between obsessively stalking Mini-Schnauzer breeder websites (and thinking that I can’t wait until I retire), and thinking I should wait until I am in my 70s and (perhaps?) more house-bound.
What I want is another Lucy and there are no guarantees of that. I think that means I am not yet over her, and ready to bring another wonderful dog into my life.
Rock on,
The WB
I hope everyone had a restful, meaningful and thoughtful holiday this year!
Although I tend not to take any additional days off during the “season” due to the nature of my work (cows don’t know it’s Christmas), the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve is generally quieter and I can get a fair bit of catching up and tidying done in my office. And thinking about the projects and plans for the next few months while the phone is not ringing.
Outside of work, I use this time to ruminate (cow pun!) on the past year and sharpen up my plans for the new.
On my lunch break, I tried to open up my 10 Year Plan spreadsheet a few days back to review it and add some stuff and IT. WASN’T. THERE. This led to much (inner) screaming and (outer) hair pulling and cursing.
I checked everywhere the damn thing could possibly be instead…every folder in Dropbox, every folder on my laptop…it was nowhere to be found. Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck fuck – to quote a friend.
Then I got home and checked my iMac. Again nothing. I resigned myself to having to create it all over again…from memory (OH SHIT). Then I had a brain wave when I remembered that the last time I opened it up, I was using the for-Mac version of Excel on my home computer. I opened the program and went to Recent…sure enough it was listed! With trembling fingers I called it back up. Success!!!!
Somehow, it had gotten saved to iCloud and, in so doing, the Mac gods removed it from Dropbox instead of making a copy to save (like the PC gods would have done). Hmmmm. I kinda get why this happens…so you don’t have multiple, different versions floating around…but hell-to-the-no…I am not a fan of this enforced document control. I would much rather have multiple versions (backups of backups ad infinitum!) and I WILL MAKE SURE OF THIS FROM NOW ON. Whew.
In happier news, I finally completed my Flower of Life mandala between Christmas and New Years. I am beyond pleased with how it turned out.
I kept going back and forth on how to create this. I wanted to use my new acrylic inks but felt I needed to use my watercolour pencils for the effects I wanted to achieve. In the end I used both – water colour pencils for the actual inner “flower”, and acrylic inks and black fine-point marker for the rest.
New years Eve at Chez Badass was a quiet dinner spent with good friends. New Years Day will be Gourmetten – Part 2, with the family.
Looking ahead to the new year, I have some plans, natch. I won’t call them resolutions but they are definitely plans.
Such as:
That’s about it for me. The sun is shining and a walk outdoors is calling! If you want to share your plans for 2017 in the comments, I am ALL EYES.
Rock on,
The WB
When I get a puppy, I spend a lot of time and effort exposing the young dog to every possible alarming (to a dog) situation.
The pup accompanies me in the car on long and short drives. I walk the dog in all types of situations – nature trails, busy city roads, and everything in between. There is lots of time spent around people and other dogs, and other animals if at all possible. The more noise and confusion, the better. I wade into rivers and streams to get the puppy to follow me and lose fear of the water. We go to the groomer and the vet.
The puppy learns it can survive all of these scary situations and gains confidence.
The result of these early months of exposure to new things means this: Congratulations – you have a dog that is afraid of nothing. And…condolences – you have a dog that is afraid of nothing…hehehe. A total badass of a dog.
My favourite breed of dog is the miniature Schnauzer. This is a dog that is already possessed, pound for pound, of more courage than any other breed. Of that I am convinced. I am also 100% certain that when my Lucy looked in a mirror she saw a Rottweiler staring back at her. Miniature Schnauzers are the badasses of the dog world.
Women, whether they know it or not, are the badass sex. They are the Miniature Schnauzers of humanity.
The patriarchy knows this too. Which is why women are portrayed as weak, illogical and in need of protection. It is why women are chronically underpaid and their work is undervalued. We are so strong that extreme societal measures have to be taken in order for the patriarchy to continue.
We are dressed in pink and frills from the day we are born. We are put in clothes and shoes that limit our movement and our play. We are punished for expressing traits males are praised for. We are praised when we are gentle and nice; when we are “pretty”. We are ridiculed and put down for being smart and sassy, and for not conforming to society’s expectations of beauty. We are told men’s violence towards us is our fault.
And when we age, we lose our value in this society. But the truth is this: when women age we become even stronger, smarter and sassier.
And this is how we are raised. This is the culture I was raised in.
I’d like to think things have changed, are changing. Recent, revealing events such as those surrounding the US election are making me doubt this.
Men are victims of this misogynistic culture as well, whether they realize it or not. They need to conform to society’s expectations of male behaviour or face ridicule and persecution. People who present as mixed or opposite or fluid gender…well, we all know how cruel this society can be to them. This is why feminism should be important to all people. It is not “just” about the rights of women. Feminism means ALL PEOPLE ARE EQUAL.
Like my puppy, I have been put through a lot of scary situations and I have survived.
On my journey to becoming a badass widow I have survived:
Somehow I survived these torturous situations and learned and grew.
And now I am fucking fearless. Congratulations Life, you have created a woman who is afraid of nothing. Also condolences, you have created a woman who will no longer be subdued.
And I know I am not alone. Where my dangerous, badass women (and men) at? The world needs us now.
Rock on,
The WB
