Wolves

September 2009 to March 2010-17

Can you see the wolf?

I saw a wolf on my way to yoga last night. He stood at the edge of the highway, a majestic creation of nature waiting to cross. His coat was light brown, highlighted by gray and light gray near his muzzle. Darker hair threaded in around his ears and his brilliant golden eyes. He was stunning. He showed no hesitation or fear at the advancing vehicle. He simply watched, a statue of grace. As we passed, his eyes met mine, bright and bold holding my gaze. The confidence in him was enviable. Mind you— if I could rip out a throat in one certain leap, I might feel pretty self-assured too. He was a lone wolf. I can convey that with confidence, because there were no other wolves around.

Some people are truly afraid of wolves, thinking they are packs of roving killers, searching for the next bloodbath. I’m here today as a friendly reminder, that if they aren’t stalking us in the parks, or consuming Grandma, and then hiding in her bed waiting for more tender and juicy meat— we are okay. Wolves are carnivores. They devour meat. They generally hunt in the forest when they are hungry, not for fun, or religious beliefs, or in retaliation like some humans.

Wolves are wild, what they catch they eat. We are domesticated beings given a wide variety of choices on what we eat. Well, some of us anyway. Heavy sigh, and huge consideration of factual evidence. Dammit, now I feel like a noble sitting at a table with a drumstick in my hand, and heaped up platters of steaming food in front of me, while others dig in the dirt for grubs and roots. The world is full of disturbing contradictions. The wolf is not one. He is exactly as he has always been, a predator. I feel fortunate I don’t hunt my supper down. I can walk into a grocery store, and smile at all my fellow shoppers with my big shiny teeth, and not rip out one throat today.

Mother nature created spectacular animals, the wolf being one of them. I was blessed to see one last night. By the way— there was no wolf in the picture above. But there could have been. They’re masters of camouflage.

It Should Be A Dogs World

September 2009 to March 2010-50Dogs, they are simply the best. I can’t say better than all the rest, because that’s going to rub some folks the wrong way. Especially the cat and horse lovers, and a few cow lovers, and most certainly the sheep lovers, but we won’t go there because this is a PG rated blog. I have to admit I love dogs, more than most people. Well, certainly more than a lot of people, definitely more than Trump, Trudeau, and Notley. But maybe that’s not a fair statement because I like rattlesnakes better than politicians, at least you hear them coming before they screw with your life. Dammit, I’m getting off topic again. Fastest way to change the topic—politics.

  1. A husband fidgets with his wedding band forcing himself to look into his wife’s eyes, ” I think you’re having an affair,” He confesses.
  2.  She stares at her husband, “Did you hear how much money Trudeau spent bringing staff on his holiday?”
  3. Her husbands face tightens, “What! When  are we going to get a Prime Minister who understands the value of the tax payers dollar?”

Dogs, yeah, I’ve jumped back to the dog topic again, try to keep up, I’m a little bit ADHD but it’s okay, it’s a blog, not War and Peace. Dogs, they can be the most trusted of companions and the most comfortable creature to meet. Dog lovers and introverts alike can relate to this scenario— Here I am meeting someone new, “Hi.” I say in a stiff uncomfortable voice. Here I am meeting their dog, “Hi Baby,” I say in an exuberant voice. “How’s the gorgeous dog today?” I ask bending down to scratch them behind the ears, “Oh yeah, you like that don’t you baby?” I say in a warm tone getting down on a knee to rub their face and look them in the eye, “Oh my, you have such beautiful eyes don’t you? Who’s the handsome boy?” Massage, scratch, and cuddle— Meanwhile, I’m totally oblivious to the dog owner who has watched me feel up their pet. I don’t even realize it might be a problem. The dog doesn’t mind. He’s enjoying the attention, panting with a sweet grin.

Dogs, they have no judgment about you, or your career choice, bank account, facial hair or waist size. Who you are in the human world just doesn’t matter to them. They don’t care if you live in the street or live in a mansion, they respond to who you are on the inside not on the outside. If you need help with job interviews, pick a dog to aid you. They eagerly seek out people with good energy and honest intentions. They can spot a shady character within a sniff, “Man, that dudes just not right. He smells off.” Your hiring partner will shake his head, flapping his ears loudly, “Yup the scent of trouble is strong in this one.” And if the job candidate tries to pet the dog he’ll duck out from under his hand, “Yuck, bad vibes.”

Dogs—respect the paw.

Mica

I was recently awarded custody of my daughter’s Chihuahua. I’m saving her life but I’m starting to worry about mine. She is a six-year-old, four-pound hairy ball of cuteness. Her name is Mica. Her name should be voracious. She has a food addiction. I can relate.

My daughter also owns a Great Dane, named Jessie, the reason for the custodial arrangement. She doesn’t have a food addiction. Sometimes she’ll stare at her food for hours waiting for it to move, even thought it never ever has. When Jessie finally becomes bored waiting for her morsels to get up and dance, and she’ll turn her back, giving them the cold shoulder. Once in a while she’ll glance over her to see if they have moved. It can take her half the day to eat her first meal.

One glorious morning, Mica snuck into Jessie’s feeding area at the exact time Jessie was busy ignoring her food. Mica believed she had died and gone to food heaven. There before her sat  a mountain of glorious grub. In an instant Mica began munching,  a gremlin in the act of gorging down as many morsels as she could. Jessie heard the gobbling sound. She swung around thinking her food had finally begun the long awaited song and dance. Imagine her surprise at catching Mica in the act? Jessie attacks. Mica leaps for one last morsel. The giant jaws grab the Chihuahua by the tiny throat. Mica is ripped from food heaven and yelps in pain. My daughter comes running. It’s too late the damage is done.

Mica has a smear of blood on her throat, but miraculously no gaping hole from the massive teeth. There is bruising and swelling, and a trip to the vet provides antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. It seems all should be well. It was, until the food and water Mica consumed oozed out of the tiny hole in her throat. With the swelling reduced the food travelled the path of least resistance. Another trip to the vet, resulted in x-rays, exploratory surgery and impromptu sewing and cutting to reform structure from a shredded pharynx and larynx. The vet was unsure of the outcome, there was so little healthy tissue left to stitch together. He even put a few stitches into the esophagus. Mica stayed on IV for the first couple days and then began a broth of watered down high nutrient dog food. We visited everyday hoping she would live and her hair trigger Chihuahua bark had died.

She recovered one hundred percent, even her yappy bark. She’ll live with me until Jessie passes on— as morbid as that sounds. When Mica goes to my daughter for visitation Jessie still gives Mica the stink eye, and Mica cowers under her gaze. The incident left Micas love for food untouched. She is still voracious. She eats three meals a day and still has the desire to chow down on fallen birdseed from my various hanging bird feeders.

A few mornings ago a sharp crack sounded through my house. It was a hell of a bang. I searched for the cause but everything seemed fine, no harm, no foul. I went on with my day. I let Mica out to do her business. She disappeared. I call for Mica from the door and waited. Nothing— the happy little dog with the sparkling brown eyes was MIA. I shake my head wondering where the little rascal has gone. I head out the door and traipse around to the backside of the house calling out to her all the while. Around the corner I find Mica. She is surrounded by feathers aggressively ripping into a prairie chicken much bigger than herself. The chickens neck is twisted to the side, it must have flown into the window— the clear cause of the early morning bang.

“Hey Mica, you little turd, you already had your breakfast. Come here,” I order.  Mica gives me a dark eyed stare. She dares me to take away her prize, exposing her fangs as she easily tears off another chunk of bloody bird breast. I shake my head. She has already eaten her way deep inside the body. I see bits of birdseed in the hole, the prairie chickens last meal. I bend down to remove the bird from the savage little beast. Mica growls at me, glaring with murder in her eyes. I take it away despite the death threat. Considering Micas aggressive desire to eat I’m not sure I feel safe sleeping with her anymore. My husband might come home to find me with a hole in my chest. I’m thinking I should renegotiate the custody agreement. Maybe Jessie would like to come and live with me.

Quiz Time

We live in a crazy world. On one hand, we have people on this planet housed in completely automated environments, having the ability to purchase everything they need and can possibly desire. And then on the other hand, we have humans in the jungle building their own shelter, making their own clothing, and supplying their own food. They are surviving the same way they did thousands of years ago. Wow! It seems amazing that we can live in a world so diverse. Some folks are happy with nothing and others are miserable with everything. On that note here’s a fun quiz elevate you into your next station in life.

1) If you take the road less travelled you may see,

  1. The Avengers karaoke bar.
  2. An undiscovered tribe of natives.
  3. A secret government installation making clones of Donald Trump to inundate the world with bad hair and isolationist ideas.
  4. All of the above.

2) Which side effect from the newest line of medication would you prefer?

  1. Spontaneous twerking.
  2. Explosive nasal discharge.
  3. Compulsive purring.
  4. All of the above with extra sauce.

3) Life is wonderful. What can we add that would make it even better?

  1. Being born with an extra arm to massage sore spots.
  2. Having the ability to Taser irritating or dangerous individuals with our eyes.
  3. Being born with respect for everything on the planet.
  4. Answer C and zero calories in cheesecake.

4) If you could invent a new app for your phone what would it be?

  1. Nose hair remover.
  2. Dance beats to defibrillate your heart.
  3. Pep talk for when you’re feeling down.
  4. A Blue Footed Booby button that alarms when you’re being an idiot.

5) How can we fix our planet?

  1. A) Hire an alien species to reprogram hostile greedy humans.
  2. B) Stop poisoning the Earth with garbage.
  3. C) Have all the countries work together on cleaning up the Earth.
  4. D) Forget all of the above, spend the money to find a new planet to wreck.

I lied. The previous quiz did nothing to elevate you into your next station in life.Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.

Have a nice day.

Pirate Politics

I’m a peace loving Zen individual until I hear someone utter the word politics, or any other syllable relating to politics. I transform from a lady in a cross legged yoga pose humming a mantra of peace into a wide-eyed wild beast ready to tear a piece of meat off our so called political system. I know for a fact, I’m not the only Canadian to froth at the mouth at our governments decisions, never mind their lack of accountability.

What are we going to do? We can only vote for people who are willing to run. If they are all duds, we’ll get a dud. Just take a look over the border and watch the gong show going on in their house. We need a leader with backbone and accountability. One who is clear in his determination to find new solutions to old issues, and keep Canada itself a priority. We need a King Arthur (leader) who can pull Excalibur (Canada) from the stone (current debt building situation). What we need is a leader who will consider what is best for the welfare of the people he governs instead of the best angle of a selfie. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the Prime Minister rose above the bickering between parties and encourages goodwill instead? I think every time a politician ventures into a negative tirade they should send them to the corner. They should install a stool in a crevice in the House of Commons, and hire a guard to make sure the disrupter keeps his nose in the crook. At least they’ll create one job. I for one am exhausted with the drama between the political parties. They waste more time and resources on trying to pull each other apart than coming together for the good of Canada. It’s no wonder we are in a constant decline— there is nothing but undermining going on in government. Isn’t it time all the elected Captains of our future begin to work for Canadians instead of their own pirate party agendas?

Great, now I have to meditate again because my eyes are bugging out and the vein in my forehead is pulsing too strongly. Dammit! I started out so well this morning in cross-legged yoga pose. Before I get down on the floor— Shame on you Rachel Notley for hiring an Ontario company to change Alberta light bulbs.

Monday, Monday

Magnificent, marvelous Monday morning awakens us with a fresh start to a new week. Check your pulse. Are you alive? Can you feel your heart beat? That’s just one more thing to be grateful about. Am I ticking you off yet? Probably. People hate being told what to do and how to feel. And isn’t that great! You get to choose your feelings. You can be as miserable as you want to be, or you can be as happy as you choose to be. It is most definitely your choice. But don’t kid yourself, how you behave during the day will determine the type of day you experience.

I have my cheerleading outfit on and I’m doing cartwheels hoping you choose happiness today. You could pretend your joy is a big bag of birdseed, and all the other people you meet are birds. You could toss out handfuls of joy it to every bird you see. The majority of them will gobble it up and flock around you. The abundance of seeds you scatter encourages other birds to share. It seems you are creating goodwill with your happy efforts. I just did a front flip, in my mind.

If you are feeling apathetic, and introverted, that’s okay too. You can sit on your park bench with your big bag of birdseed stuffed under your coat watching others engage the birds. Sometimes it’s what you need, a little solitude. Hey, it’s your option. We get to choose how our daily interactions go.

Maybe you are feeling miserable today. You are pissed off that Monday has come and you are forced back into paid slavery. No problem, it’s your call. You might even vent your hostility by running around the park with birdseed strapped to your back and chasing everyone else’s birds away. You might frighten those birds so badly they shit on you as they fly off into the bright blue yonder. Great! Then you’ll be even angrier because those damn birds shit on you. Or… maybe you could just laugh, and then the people feeding the birds might offer you a wet wipe.

All those feelings to sort through and choices for how your day will evolve— man I love Mondays!

Otherworldly Rest

Unseen weights lie on my eyes gently pressing me into a fathomless sleep, transporting me into places of mythical time and space. There I tumble into events and welcome faces encircling me throughout my evening respite. There are loves and losses and great golden gains in the passage of unwatched time. Oh, how I love the dreams. Those which flit inside my mind like wispy pieces of down, so light and full of whimsical delight. They dance with the music of the night spinning round and round. The words I hear are vague like hard won whispering sighs of sweet relief. A sensation of fullness stretches me into a comfortable place like home. Then with electrifying swiftness, just as a bolt of lightening from the sky I am ripped from my otherworldly rest, blinking reluctantly in the morninglight. I cannot help but wonder if I am now asleep.

Nosey Parker

Lets reflect on the point of our face— the nose. Our summit feature so often unappreciated, a support for our sunglasses, a channel for fluid release, an intake and outlet for breath. It contains our astounding sense of smell, which can be both a blessing or a curse. Lastly, it is a filtering system for germs and dirt— you know— that tangled mess of hair in your nose that unfiltered children like to point out.

Considering all of the phenomenal uses of the nose, there is one thing the user does which is always a waste of time and energy— sticking your snoot in other peoples business. Did you know peace can be found by simply keeping your schnoz in your own daily doings? Cancel your trip to the mountain top, you can find everything you need right here and now. If you like numbers, let me tell you that ten out of ten people have more friends and less drama by keeping their beak pointed in their own direction. We have one whiffer for a reason— it’s only intended for one user.

Listen up friends, if your snuffer is sifting through Thelma’s thistle in her backyard you’ll miss the truffles growing under your own tree. If you keep your sneezer to yourself you’ll share less colds and you won’t irritate others with extraneous sniffing around. Finally— keep your proboscis to yourself, it won’t get broke, and less people will poke their snuffers into your realms of living.

Respect.