Tag Archives: pets

Gathering

The call sang out in startled notes

I stopped and looked around

The sun was full of light and warmth

Footpath by tree was  sound

 

Darkness fell and the moon shone bright

Others had gone their way

Party over, food wrapped

Carried on a tray

 

 

Almost home nearly there

just steps along the lane

It struck and grabbed a hank of hair

Strangely gentle with it’s pain

 

Now the tree is  watched with care

The cat stays by the door

Village owls reside with us

My scalp’s no longer sore.

 

 

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Filed under family relationships, food, friends, inspiration, motivation, pets, poetry, Uncategorized, weather, writing

Dog, Cat and As the World Turns

Note to self, remember to bring the poor cat inside tonight. Cat has been sequestered for days while the dog was visiting. At the first chance of an open door, clear of an intimidating looking muscular but actual cream puff of a bulldog has gone back home to my son’s house, the cat has bolted outside. It is dark. Coyotes lurk in the nearby bush.

Cat has made a break for it. Anyone would after sitting in a wicker basket on a high dresser for two days. Food, water, litter tray and a nice oscillating fan to stir the air is nice enough for a cat staycation for one day but after that it gets old fast.

Since the dog has left I can eat without worrying about the head butts against my leg that signal begging for food. My books, glasses, coffee cups, journals and pens are safe from being snatched or knocked over. The large bay window with it’s wide lower ledge in the living room is now just a window rather than a showcase for a chubby bulldog to stand in, prance around on and bark at passerby’s, tousle around the new spiffy drapes, lick the glass panes and sleep upon for hours. Things are returning to normal except for the cat escape.

Point being?

We all get a bit set in our ways. We do things the same old way. It’s good to hang out with interesting characters but send them home once they become a bit much. Let loose when you can. Get out there. Take a chance or two. Watch out for coyotes and leave the porch light on.

 

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Uh, Just Give Me Time…

Knowing what I wrote in my last post, about being on the ball and getting things done because the dog was visiting and I had to focus on everything better and the end result being that I felt more inclined to blog and possibly write for my stockpile as well, I seemed to coast through another day and let things happen.

Groceries were bought at 9 am. Who does that? Misleading energy event. Once I got home and unloaded the car and put the milk and eggs in the fridge I had my breakfast, coffee, journal time, read for an hour and fell asleep again. Dog spent quality time with an eleven dollar bone. (Once more, who does that? Buy an eleven dollar bone?)

Later on in the day a few pots of herbs got moved to the back yard and I had a visit with my sister-in-law, drank coffee, went home and peeled potatoes, scrubbed some veggies and overbaked some chicken

. Dog and I spent the evening watching the neighbours go by from the big window. Dog barks at people with dogs because she is brave and strong sitting inside looking out, at people going by with flashlights because they are obviously up to no good and at me because I’m reading quietly rather than giving her a back rub.

Cat stays clear. In hiding. Bribed with expensive succulent cat pate. Waiting. Hoping dog will vapourize.

Dog wants to cuddle but she is a chunk and barely fits on my knee while balancing on the footrest of my recliner. An hour passes. Back rub and soothing messages later, before she tries to nest under my chin , she is encouraged to move her sturdy eighty pounds of bulldog off of me and go for one more outside break before being stuck in her crate for the night.

Outside it is very dark, pitch dark and village rural. Skunks, racoons and possums swagger along the lane. Rustling noises, looming shadows from trees caught in the light from our porch and the threat of garbage cans put out for morning  are thrilling enough for the dog. She willingly makes it a quick trip and nips inside for a good sleep in the crate. Covered up with her kitty screened decorated blanket ( giant brown and white kittens with huge big green eyes) and savouring the last peanut butter treat for the day, she sleeps and I write.

Nothing earth shattering. Poised for inspiration, though.

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Muse It or Lose It

What is there about having the dog come to stay for a few days of respite care, or as my son refers to it as holidays, that stirs my desire to blog, yet again? There have been blog bog down periods before and somehow as soon as the dog appears a rattling at the door and skiddering in the hall, the house takes on a new vibe conducive to a variety of projects, those left for a rainy day. Without the dog, the house and all the projects of which I speak so fondly, just exist in their own quiet way , no pressure to complete at any breakneck speed or deadline. However, having the dog here a routine seems to surface and jobs like cleaning, gardening, shopping and other assorted daily tasks need to be done in such a manner as to accommodate the care and needs of said dog. Rarely, does the cat have this effect on me. Indeed, the cat and I have come to an understanding. Food, water, shelter and some quality sleeping time are the basic requirements of cat . There is none of this stick to a routine stuff with the cat. The cat doesn’t care.

There is something very healthy about having the dog here, for holidays. Vitamins and supplements, often forgotten are suddenly ingested as energy to deal with things is a priority. Piles of projects begin to dwindle, oddly enough as I’ve already mentioned…mainly because with the dog here things cannot be left just sitting around waiting for a rainy day or a sudden inclination. For example, half empty paint cans must be removed before a catastrophe happens that would be most regrettable. Laundry might as well be done on time rather than just accumulate until the seasons change. Stuff gets put away, out of reach, out of dog range. Garbage gets carted to the curb exactly on time, thereby avoiding being dumped during a sniffing around episode.

The writing routine, long avoided, set aside, almost forgotten and definitely ignored suddenly skidders in too. Journal writing takes on some streams of thought, to-do lists start appearing on my writing desk, bulletin board and refrigerator. The reading diary gets filled in during the quiet times when the dog is sleeping beside me and I feel more inclined to sit and read all the books that I like to read rather than try to read stuff recommended by others. Finally, late at night with all the shenanigans of the evening play, bone chewing and treat sneaking over for now, with the laundry sounding off it’s finished cycle, and the loaded dishwasher ready to do it’s job, dog covered up in her crate and cat somewhere behind the drapes….I write my blog once more. A good thing, to start again and it will lead to more writing…. the writing project left in a pile, for example.

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A Wannabe Village Person

Taking a window of opportunity with milder weather today I collected up some stuff my son requested from home for his new place and took an early evening drive into town. I’m a wonderful mother, I know.

Big puddles and millions of potholes slowed my journey down considerably. His neighbourhood is a wonderfully quirky part of town with many charming points and places. The narrow and snow slushed filled streets riddled with cracks and gullies somewhat detract from it’s appeal at the moment.

Several people were out walking their dogs but just as many were carrying them over the rushing puddles collecting at the intersections. Oddly enough it seemed like the right thing to do, however my son’s seventy pound bulldog pup will not likely get this treatment. ( By the way, she was THRILLED to see me and made her face go all smiley rather than the usual bulldog pouty look.)

The inky black night soon settled in by the time I was on my way back home and what with the snow piles and potholes I  eased my car through the narrow street lit up here and there with little restaurants, galleries and shops still open. A giant evergreen, mid village is still lit with white Christmas lights. The place has a special hum about it at any time but on this inky dark, wet and slushy night it looked welcoming, interesting and good place to be.

When the snow finally melts and the slush drains away I think my son will see me in the artsy village neighbourhood more often. He need not worry about me pestering him too much though. I’ll be finding myself at one of the galleries or poetry gatherings. I’ll be the one maybe reciting a lament to slush and potholes, not wearing a beret.

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Sweet Home, Sweet Home

freezing rain

huge pot of chili made with fridge clear out ingredients

batch of butterscotch and chocolate chip cookies

sleeping on and off through the afternoon

roads bad

so dog stays

yet another night

five containers of chili made with onions, tomatoes, zuchinni, mushrooms, celery, carrots, three kind of beans and two kinds of meat now frozen

one batch of cookies but half of the batch left too long in oven and other half perfect

message sent from new neighbourhood coffee shop wifi because son can’t find phone charger in his muddle of unpacked boxes

all ok, found heat control in basement apartment

yesterday, there, my feet froze waiting for him

he’s close and his neighbourhood coffee shop is just one lovely thing

there

an organic and arty little enclave in an old part of the city

going down the village street

besides the neighbourhood coffee shop

an art gallery with meeting places for artists, writers, performers

a library with meeting rooms for readers, writers

poetry in the air there

tiny bakery with funny little signs

plant and flower store

used books for sale in an old house

the tavern looks old time blues and rock and roll

the pub a little more upscale maybe

something for everyone but I like the blues

vintage shops , retro things, records, books, clothes, antiques

quilt making shop giving classes

good old landmark hardware store

fancy coffee place with delicate desserts

a spa or two

historical , quaint, lovely places

even a real grocery store

all just along his village street

where his basement apartment is warming up

Is there any wonder why he stayed in town and left the dog

yet another night with mom

Afterall, it’s freezing rain.

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Long Winter Day and Still the Dog

Traffic was hairy.

The wait in the car turned cold despite the hot coffee at hand.

Time spent reading two quaint English novels, rather.

Once the moving van appeared all went well.

Payment made.

The wait in the apartment turned cold despite the efforts of tiny ancient radiators.

Cell phone not cooperating, of course. Cell phone doesn’t respond to button pushing (that’s right, it’s an old dumb one with buttons) because it is only an emergency phone and rarely gets charged up being a forgotten phone, stuck in a purse. Finally, contact made using the fussy phone.

Hours have gone by.

One end of the line is me, waiting in the cold, mother. Other end is moving day son, dashing about and cleaning up and tuning in keys then driving through rush hour traffic. Two hour wait turns into six hour wait.

At home, dog in crate.

Finally, moving son and waiting mom are reunited, go through drive ‘thru for late fast food supper. Both have not eaten today so gobbling food in car, licking salt from French fries on fingers. Mom has not had French fries for at least donkey’s ages because she is tying to release some weight and it has taken over three years and the same ten pounds come and go.

Dog food , only the best, purchased because at home dog ate last of it for breakfast.

Moving son stays in town to unpack and settle.

Cold mom drives out to country and uncrates dog, walks dog and feeds dog.

Tea and toast for mom and a wee bit of cheese for dog.

Long suffering cat in her high level sleeping basket. Cat now used to living in exile in high level sleeping basket in mom’s bedroom, door shut with all her other needs met with litter discretely handy on another high level. Water in a tiny blue and white saucer, antique. Cat hates dog. Dog doesn’t understand cat’s issues.

Dog not happy, happy, happy having to wait yet another evening for transfer to new home.

Cuddles given, dog relaxes now beside me in the good chair with the soft velour throw, my chair. This time of night she is the most lovely thing, sleeping. I’ll leave her there.

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February 28, 2014 · 11:25 pm