The Dummy

I fell in love with Dixon first.

From the moment I saw him. It was love at first sight. I like to think on both our parts.

July 1st, 2012. It was swelteringly hot.

It was the first time the Sidekick and I met. He was driving up to Kelowna to pick up his newly adopted dog and I decided to go along for the ride because ... well, I love a good adventure and apparently had disregarded all those 'stranger danger' lessons I sat through in elementary school.

The road trip was awkward. Uncomfortable. The conversation oddly one-sided. At least on the ride back I had someone to talk to, Dixon. The dog. By the time I was dropped off at my house, I was sure I'd never hear from the Sidekick again, which was really sad, because I loved his dog. I even covertly snapped a blurry picture when our driver stopped for gas.

Now, for anyone who knows me, they might say I love all dogs. This is true. I do. I am a dog lover. But the affection I had for Dixon ran deeper than blanket dog-love. He reminded me of my first pup Patches - his big meaty head and stinky farts - and it was a miserable thought thinking I'd never see him again. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. And, as the story goes, I ended up falling in love with his Dad too. But this isn't about the Sidekick. It's about the big dummy.

Dixon.

So, yesterday was a terrible day. Dixon's diagnosis was confirmed. Cancer. Lymphoma. It's not a curable cancer. He's dying. And that sucks. Big time. Because Dixon is not only a big dummy. He's not just our family dog. He's my best buddy. He's my friend. My shadow. He fills every room he is in. And he isn't just a big presence because he's doofy and clumsy and snores like a fright train coming down the tracks. He's a big presence because he takes up every inch of my heart.

We spend a lot of time together, Dixon and I.

Over the years, we have adventured and explored a vast majority of the island together. If you see me out walking, it's a guarantee it's probably with Dixon in tow. I can't say for certain how many miles we've gone but suffice to say it's far. And the things we've seen and done - you wouldn't even believe it if I told you. He's rolled in rotting fish and deer, he's stood on a dead sea lion, and he's fetched a dildo out of a creek bed. He's been afraid of bridges, benches, and birds. We've found many buried treasures and witnessed breathtaking sunsets. We've climbed mountains, waded through rivers, swam in the ocean, slept on the ground, rolled in the grass, been drenched in the rain, clomped through snow, slipped on ice, and been spooked by random noises in the woods.

As much fun as Dixon has been, he's also been a world of heartache. From allergies to hematomas and everything in between, this guy has had me worrying from the word go. There was the inexplicable head tremors he experienced a couple years ago that had me laying awake at night just holding him tight. And let's not forget the ruptured ligament from six months ago that had him limping for half a year. There was the swollen mouth from a bee sting, a bug bite on his tail that made it swell up like a balloon, the chewing of the paws so the pads came off, and the constant scratching from allergies. Every time I turned around he was wounded somehow. It was almost as if he didn't know how to be healthy. When he was doing good, something inevitably would go wrong. He honestly is like an accident waiting to happen.

Even worse, he's destroyed so much. He literally chewed his way out of his crate! A metal crate! He's chewed Ray Bans, hats, doorknobs, shoes, Tupperware, and anything else he can get his mouth on. He chewed through doors people. Two of them. Right through two doors! Let's also factor in all the things he's eaten, like a tub of margarine, which he promptly puked up ... not in one go, of course, but in seventeen uniquely greasy piles. He's devoured loaves of bread and cookies and a bowl full of chocolate one Christmas. Just tonight he tried to sneak one of the Sidekick's cookies off the coffee table. He is a vacuum. A very sweet and lovely vacuum.

The memories are aplenty. I find myself reminiscing these days and my heart is so very heavy because I just can't even imagine what life will be like without his paws dragging on the floor, without his puppy dreams, without his whining at the door, without his zooming around after a poop, without his cold wet nose, without his tongue lapping up my bath, without his mooching, without his pulling on the leash, without his stepping on my feet, without him laying behind me while I cook, without his cleaning food off the floor, without his nose prints on the glass. Without his everything.

It's hard to focus on now and not dread what's to come. But I am determined and dedicated to making the rest of his life absolutely wonderful. I want him to have fun. Each and every day, I want to do something nice for him.More than anything, I want him to know he's loved. To feel loved.

Today is National Puppy Day. I never knew Dixon as a puppy. Sure, he's my puppers, but I never knew him as a little wee one because he was over a year old when we rescued him. Still, I celebrate him today. I celebrate the life we've lived and the life we are going to continue to lead. Above all, I celebrate the fact that we have time. Time to snuggle and kiss and walk and play. Time for me to bury my face in the meaty folds of his neck and weep. I don't know how much time, but if it's a day, I am thankful. If it's a week, I am grateful. And maybe we will get lucky and it will be months. Or even a year.

So, I have wrote out Dixon's To-Do List and each day we will tackle a couple things he loves to do. If you'd like to follow along and get to know this amazing guy a little better, you can do so on Dixon's Super Awesome Instagram Account. And if you don't have a dog and you are thinking about getting one. Don't. They are just heartbreak covered in fur. 

Obviously, you shouldn't listen to me and you should go adopt and rescue a puppers ASAP. 

A Little Forethought Goes A Long Way

So, Michael Buble posted a photo of an unsuspecting woman in short-shorts on his Instagram with him smirking away in the foreground as her cheeky-cheeks winked cheekily in the background. He even dressed the post up with some hashtags about her hungry albeit beautiful bum and it turned out to be the internet news of the day. A lot of people are perplex about why this is a big deal, a few are wondering where the cries of 'body-shaming' are coming from, and some are wondering why his post has garnered such attention, especially when the post was intended to be complimentary.

After removing the controversial picture, Mr. Buble posted a statement about how he would never intentionally be 'insulting to a human' and how he thought women should be 'loved, celebrated and respected'. Well, I call bullshit, and this why what he did is unacceptable, rude, sexist and disconcerting (to me, at least). 

1. A lot of opinionated folks feel the only reason Mr. Buble is getting flack is because he's famous. In a lot of ways, this is correct, mostly because if an average Joe posted a photo of some unsuspecting woman on his Instagram it wouldn't have gone viral. Most people don't have over a million people on their Instagram accounts, or nearly eight million on their Facebook fan pages, which is where the picture appeared. An average, bonehead dude wouldn't be able to reach a million people with a press of a button, so one might think with the sheer girth of his social media platform, Mr. Buble (and wife) might have used their heads and thought, "Hey, maybe this isn't a good idea?" But they didn't. Of course, this doesn't mean they shouldn't be held responsible for the tripe they put into the world, right? 

2. After addressing his popularity, let's take it away - because it doesn't actually matter when you think of the underlying issue. The fact that he is a world-famous singer has only allowed us to shed light on the complete lack of privacy we live with. In the world of social media, it is easy to wave goodbye to our privacy, and this story simply proves we are a poor clothing choice and a share button away from being the next viral sensation. This doesn't change the fact that it actually isn't okay to pass along pictures or information of other people. As humans, it'd be nice if we respected each other enough not to take covert snapshots and share them to our social media followers ... unfortunately, this isn't the case. Simply put, if you want to share your own lives, clothing, children, work, then feel free, but exposing someone else without permission is a violation of their privacy. And it's wrong. No matter if you are Michael Buble or not. 

3. What bothers me most about this picture is the poster actually thought it was complimentary! I suppose the logic correlates with when men catcall women from the side of the road. As if this woman should be happy that her 'humps' are plastered all over the internet, that she should be thrilled because a celebrity found it attractive, and that she should accept his 'beautiful bum' hashtag with pride. Because nothing makes you feel better than being objectified, right? Who wouldn't want to be turned into a piece of meat and thrown to eight million rabid fans? And yet, I noticed he didn't say these things to her face - maybe because to have said them to her would have been super disrespectful. Well, that's just confounding, right? 

The core of the issue is that the objectification of women is so rampant most of Buble's fans (which are predominately female) jumped to his defence, claiming he was being 'nice' and 'flattering', and very few seemed to see the flip side - the extremely common oppression of women and acceptance of sexism. Even more irritating is Buble's claim of lack of intent. So, you didn't mean to be chauvinistic? Oh, I guess all is forgiven then. It's the 'boys will be boys' mentality, and quite honestly, it's getting pretty damn old. Imagine if this was your daughter. The girl in the picture could have been fourteen, for all we know. Horrifying, right?

And some people wonder why we still need feminism. Because every day we facilitate this type of behaviour, excusing it and condoning it. 

4. Alright, let's say the man just didn't think, and he honestly does love, respect and celebrate women, and he was just being funny ... One must ask the question: has he never been on the internet before? Has he never read comments on YouTube or Twitter? Did he seriously think this picture was going to be met with the same (cough) love, (cough) respect, and (cough) celebration he posted it with? (The coughing is because the words were sticking in my virtual throat and causing me to choke on the irony) This might be a newsflash to Buble, but the internet isn't exactly a nice place. People are mean, usually just for the sake of being mean, and he put this woman on display, holding her under a spotlight for the masses to critique. Now, I only read a handful of the comments, but I was disgusted. People were calling her fat, asking if she was blind, saying she clearly forgot her pants, and there were even utterances of 'whore'. Not only was she body-shamed, but her intelligence was called into question, and all I kept thinking was, she looks far better than I would in short-shorts.     

5. And through all the harsh comments and abrasive observations, there was a very unsettling theme of her responsibility. After all, she went out in public in the shorts, she was begging for the attention, she knew she looked good, and obviously she brought it on herself. Let's all call this what it truly is,  victimization and our ever-present ability to blame the victim when they are taken advantage of, violated and exploited. 

More annoying are the people who are asking WHY she wore shorts like that out in public. First off, it's Miami, I hear it gets hot there. Second, maybe she went for a run and they rode up a bit, or perhaps she has a huge wedgie and didn't feel a restaurant an appropriate place to pick it. Hell, maybe she wanted to show off the obvious hard work she puts into her body. The truth is, it doesn't matter the reasons behind WHY she put the shorts on and went out - she doesn't deserve to be plastered all over the internet and mistreated for wearing them. Whether or not we want to admit is, rape culture is pervasive in our society and it's evident when things like this happen. This woman is a victim of her privacy being violated, and is on the receiving end of sexism.

In the end, a little forethought goes a long way, especially when your platform can reach millions. The truth is, these types of things happen all the time, to women every day, and instances of sexism and exploitation are readily accepted to the point where a lot of us don't even bat an eye. From where I stand, if you truly love and respect women and want to celebrate them, then perhaps allowing them privacy would be a great first step. And I am talking to other women too. We do the exact same thing. Heck, it was Buble's wife who snapped the picture in the first place! This world is already so hard, how about making it a bit easier by thinking about how our actions and words can affect those around us. Make each post count. 

Squeaking In A Rant

It's nearing midnight. I have to type fast in order to get this post done before the day is up and someone points out how I dropped the ball. Kidding. No one is paying that close of attention. Still, I set personal goals and like to stick to them.

The reason for the last post is my desire to rearrange furniture late in the evening. At eight, I thought I'd do a little bit of cleaning. Three and a half hours later, I'm exhausted and wondering if this was really an appropriate day to spend my Saturday evening. Yeah, it is. Because I'm an adult. And it's my responsability to clean and crap.

Fine, I am not being very eloquent with my words. If you're expecting easy, breezy and beautiful, you best pick up a magazine and check out the latest cover girl. On a side note, Cover Girl fired Ellen? Why is this news? Even more, why are we so fixated on what celebrities look like without their makeup? Who really cares? I mean, anyone with a handful of brain cells knows celebrities don't even look like celebrities. 

It's called photoshop. You too can look manufactured and flawless. But if you think about it, isn't being flawless kind of a big flaw? 

Personally, I think either way she's beautiful, but I would really love to see some more realistic women out there on television and on covers of magazines. Can you imagine a world with cellulite, stretch marks and *gasp* muffin top? I can. It's called my life. And most of your lives too. 

Anyhow, the rant part? It comes from being angry with Facebook and Google. Pretty much one of the same. And I only have ten minutes to spit this out. So, here we go. 

I have been wanting to drop the 'That Girl' persona for awhile now. I've outgrown it and I want to make something just a little bit more me. You can probably tell what I've gone with if you're reading this because my entire blog is completely different. Well, my twitter, tumblr, YouTube, Instagram and everything else has changed too. Trust me, it was far too much work to do. 

So, what's the problem? 

Well, the problem is that there are two things I can't change because I don't have the power to do so. The URL on my YouTube account and my Facebook fan page's name. I hate having my freedoms limited in these ways. There are no reasonable reasons why this would be something I couldn't do, except maybe Facebook and Google (the jerks!) want to hold some sort of control over me. Are we in a power struggle that I didn't know about?

Like I know I don't make a billion dollars a year, or more, but I would like to just do what I want to do with my stuff. Okay, fine, it technically isn't MY stuff, it belongs to Google and Facebook, but I like to pretend my fan page and YouTube account are my own. I effing hate these sorts of restrictions. 

After a little more thought, I have come to the conclusion that social media isn't for me. As someone who hates restrictions, I can't handle all these limitations, which all seem pointless to little old me, who just wants everything to be uniform. 

Big sigh. And two minutes until midnight! Win. 

Settle In

For some odd and inexplicable reason, I absolutely love the phrase 'settle in'. Probably because I completely support the idea of taking time to ease yourself into a new surrounding, whether it is a living space, place of employment, coffee shop, school or anything else that involves new environments, you need to take your time. No sense rushing things. Besides, there is a very important allotment of time for you to learn your way around, like if there are stairs in your new home and you haven't had stairs in years. You have to take a few days to settle in so you don't tumble down the stairs one night on your way to the bathroom. No, I am not speaking from experience.

Moving along...

These days, I am settling into my new digs. Gaff. Home. House. Abode. Dwelling. Whatever you opt to call it, I'm adjusting. This is my period of adjustment. Meaning, I am getting used to things. And you know what, it isn't all that bad this new place I'm living.

I know a lot of you don't follow me on Instagram (I linked my account if you're interested in keeping tabs on me there). You really should, though, because I post amazing pictures everyday or my extravagant little life. If you want me to break it down, I mostly just post pictures of the dogs in my life and food I cook. Sometimes random lovely things as well. There was a stint where I posted a picture a day for a year, which I documented on my tumblr here, but Instagram allows me to post 5 pictures a day. And sure, I might be annoying, but I like documenting the things I love. It reminds me of what is important and keeps the unimportant things from the cobwebs of my overworked mind.

That said, I have been documenting my settling in on Instagram. See, I already posted a vlog  that showed the rather awesome insides of my new crib. It was titled New Home and mostly consisted of Oliver going up the stairs and the boys fighting on the bed. Totally worth a laugh. But what about the outside? What surrounds me in this new foreign place on Vancouver Island? Well, I am going to show you.

Here, in no particular order, is the happenings around town so far. I mean, there's a lot more than these ten pictures, but they will simply have to do for now. So, that's what I am doing, settling in. Once I complete this, I will regale you with my thoughts on love, life, writing and cake. You know, all the stuff I am known for rambling on and on about. Until then, enjoy the pictures and let me know what you think.

 Allen Lake

 Stone Inukshuk

 Random Bridge

 Graffiti Around Town

 Into The Mountains

 Random House Two Blocks Over

 Raging River

 Allen Lake Again

 Trees & Water

 Reflection

 Water Source

 Lots Of Biking Trails Around These Parts

 A Trail

A Dixon On A Trail