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. 

Down Island

Since moving to Vancouver Island, I have done a lot of exploring and had many day trips. I have gone to beaches, walked through mountains, scavenged, adventured, seen wildlife, picked berries, and taken a bundle of pictures. Despite my travels, there is one trip I look forward to above all the others. The one when Oliver comes home.

As you may know, I have joint custody of my dog. A lot of people have a hard time comprehending how this works. Well, my ex and I both love Oliver so much that neither of us have the heart to never see him again. Not that it would happen like that, anyhow. Truthfully, I love my ex and consider us to be friends. Good friends, in fact, if not great friends. How he feels is a different matter altogether. It's hard ending a relationship and I think we are incredibly lucky we've come out the other side able to hangout, share a dog, and poke fun of who we were, are, and who we will become.

It's amazing to think there are people out there who can't get their act together enough to be civil for their children's sake, let alone their dog's. Alas, I am a different sort of person, and clearly so is my ex. While joint custody of Oliver is great, because it shows there is an ability to love after loss and not be a childish ass, it's also really hard. When he's not around, I'm slightly off. I mean, I have the Big Guy, and he's amazing to be with. He's clumsy, makes me laugh, and is the biggest Mama's boy you've ever met. We have great moments together, are the best of friends, and consider each other family.

But he's not my first born. Yes, I love them both unconditionally, but Oliver holds the softest of spots in my heart. I held him as a puppy. Named him. We have been through tough times together. He's grumpy and hilarious. Endearing and annoying. A huge attitude with the most velveteen ears. No, really, the Little Guy is made of silk. Anyone who pets him has to comment on how soft his fur is. And I really miss him when he's not here. Because for small dog, he takes up a seriously large amount of space in my heart.

Anyhow, today I went down island and got the Little Man. He's back home. Right this minute his fuzzy little bottom is nudged up against my arm and he's snoring away. So, yeah, I'm pretty happy right now.

Camping 101

Just got home from camping and I have never been so dirty. That's not true. I've been far dirtier. But that first shower after collecting three days of camp filth feels divine. As does sleeping in a bed again. We went away for the Sidekick's birthday. He's now another year older, but I suspect none the wiser. He said he feels twenty-nine. I tried not to laugh in his face.

While we were away, I got to thinking about the proper way to camp, what is and isn't camping to me, and the etiquette of being out in the wilderness. Here are some of the observations I made.

1. When an RV is involved it isn't camping. This is what the city girls call glamping but to me it's a bit on the excessive side, kind of like you're missing the entire point of the activity. On top of that, it's sort of rude, especially when you set up shop across from a couple with a tent and they have to listen to your generator kicking in every couple minutes or your smoke detector going off. Like, seriously? A smoke detector! Part of the fun of camping is second guessing whether you doused your fire enough and silently wondering if you're going to perish in your tent that night.

2. Showering is cheating. The whole point of going camping is to connect with your inner beast and become one with the wild. Walking to a shower and using such items as body wash, razors and a loofa sponge are against the rules. Now, washing up in a lake or creek is perfectly acceptable. That icy splash of water on your face is most invigorating.

3. Heat comes from a campfire. There are no other exceptions, unless we are talking bodily warmth. Huddling close to the fire to keep warm is a key ingredient to a successful adventure into the woods, as is practically burning your legs off because you insist on sitting a foot away from the eight log fire.

4. Wet wood doesn't make the best fire. Cedar kindling rules!

5. Always pack a rain jacket. Who wouldn't pack a rain jacket? (glances over at the Sidekick)

6. The weather reports are wrong. I am actually a firm believer that all meteorologists are liars and that weather predicting is about as trust worthy as witchcraft.

7. Camping calories don't count. It's okay to survive on potato chips and hot dogs for three days. No one is going to think less of you. In fact, you might become a hero in the eyes of people you tell.

8. Don't cheap out on a tent. From past experience, a leaky tent is literally one of the worst things in the world. Just because that eight person tent is a hundred dollars at Wal-Mart doesn't mean you should buy it. Pay attention to the words 'water resistant' - it is basically saying if it drizzles you will be fine. You want a waterproof fly. The tent we just got kept us perfectly dry and it wasn't too expensive.

9. Dogs are awesome, but don't just let them run around the campground. This is my problem with off leash dogs. Not all dogs are friendly and, while your dog might be the sweetest four legged creature ever to grace planet Earth, it is an animal with instincts. Keep your dog leashed or tethered, for their own protection and other animals' as well. Everyone in our campground kept their dog under control until the last day when two families showed up and just let their dogs roam free. This is a huge pet peeve of mine. As you know, Dixon is a pitbull. We have had two dogs run up to us off leash and start trouble with him. He's not an aggressive dog, but these bad interactions with uncontrolled dogs are terrible experiences we both hate having. On top of that, they are unnecessary.

10. Keep it clean. Camping is messy business, sure, but you should treat your surroundings with respect. Dispose of your garbage, keep the site tidy, and leave it in better condition than you arrived. We left our fire poker 2000 behind for the next visitors to use.

Okay, now it is picture time!

Comfy in the tent. 

Morton Lake

 

Mohun Lake 

A man and his dog

Andrew Lake (thought the sky looked cool in this one)

Being a good boy at the lake

Morton Lake

Camping abode (tent)

All bundled up

He's ready to go home

Sidekick and his fire poker

A rare picture of the Sidekick and I

The Wacky Woods

Today I took a walk in the Wacky Woods. It's this hidden art installation in Fanny Bay, put together by a man named George Sawchuk. Not only did George turn his 4 acre backyard into an outdoor art exhibit, but it's free and interactive. What will you find in the Wacky Woods?

Motivational quotes, books hidden in nooks in trees, anti-political and government sculptures and a lot of radical ideologies that go against virtually everything we have been raised to think. The Wacky Woods is equal parts nature and creative spirit. If you choose to walk in the woods, don't go alone, bring someone along, and be prepared to think, pause, and chat about the things you see.

What I loved the most? How George managed to stress our responsibility to the Earth. There was an overwhelming theme of how drastic our behaviour has changed this world we live in. How we need to step up, band together, and not be afraid to resist and speak out. While I wandered through this AMAZING piece of history, I was in awe of this man who took the time to create such a magnificent place and opened it up for everyone. I couldn't think of one person who wouldn't be inspired by it.

And because I am a total picture whore, I tool plenty of them. I will only post my top ten here, though.

The Gratitude Booklet

I live in a beautiful village where nice things happen all the time. This makes me supremely lucky, and it's something I am grateful for every single day of my life. Not all people live in such a magnificent part of the world, where they can be in the mountains and at the beach in the same day. Where they can drink water from their tap and know their neighbours' names.

Some people might want examples of nice things that happen in my village. Well, every Wednesday we put out our garbage and recycling and someone always puts our cans inside our property. It's a small thing, lifting our empty cans over the fence, but it tucks them out of the way so they don't go rolling down the street if it's too windy, and it means we can access our parking without being inconvenienced by getting out of the truck to move them. We don't know who does this, but every week, without fail, they do. Another example, during winter someone shovelled the walkway to our gate more than a handful of times. Again, we don't know who did this, but it's one of those gestures that makes this place a great spot to live.

But the sweetness of this town, extends beyond our neighbours. It't the rest of the population too. Chalked messages of love show up around town and are washed away the next time it rains. The community Facebook posts notices about found keys and cellphones, or about injured animals seen on the trails in the forest along with warnings to keep dogs leashed in those areas.

Today, I found yet another amazing thing to add to the 'why I love where I live' list. The little book of gratitude. There's a trail in the forest call the Missing Link trail and it actually goes up to this peak where a wooden bench has been built for people to sit. Here you can look out over the town and, I swear, the air is freshest up there.

When I reached the top this morning, I noticed a little plastic baggie stuffed into the back board of the bench. Upon inspection, I noticed it was a booklet and pen.

In fact, it was the gratitude booklet. A book where people had taken the time to pause a moment and consider what they were grateful for in life.

Out of curiosity, I read through what other people were grateful for. A lot of them were simply ecstatic over being a live, on the trails, running, riding, being healthy and touching the sky. It's a small thing this book, but as I read through it, it changed my morning. It took away the morning annoyances and really made me focus on breathing. I was there, on top of the world, free and alive.

All the posts made me happy, but this one took the cake: 

Ride fast, just a bit of advice from 'N'. How truly fantastic. I hope his dad knows how important he is.

27 Degrees

No, this isn't an all boy pop band. Although, I did just have this conversation with my Sidekick: 

Me: 98 Degrees ... that's insane. I mean, how hot is that.

He: No, you fool. Fahrenheit, not Celsius. 

Me: Oh. Did you just call me a fool?

I live in Canada. So, when I say it was twenty seven degrees, I mean it was in the eighties for you folks down in the United States of America. By the way, the metric system is grand and you all, or y'all, should hop on board, so I don't have to be called a fool anymore. Regardless, I am a bit foolish, and this whole scenario made me laugh. 

That being said, it was hot out today. It's the beginning of May, everything is in bloom, and I seriously regretted wearing tights to work. Thank goodness I had the foresight to leave my pants at home. No pants is always ideal when dealing with summer-like conditions. 

With the sun comes trips to the beach, higher levels of serotonin, skimpy clothes and shots of vitamin D. Depression goes out the window when you're speeding down the highway at 140 (kimometers, not miles), listening to catchy beats, and eating cherries. It is known. Unfortunately, down goes productivity on writing projects and the cleanliness of one's abode. 

Still, summer is around the corner and I live in a beautiful part of the world. And I feel like being happy about that. 

And here I am with another fool. 

Beach Kitty

One of my most favourite things is going out adventuring. Exploring places unknown. Since I didn't grow up on the Island like most of the people around here, every day can be a new experience. I say 'can be' because some days I'm tired and want to warm my weary bones over the fire of lethargy. That gave me a chuckle. It seems oxymoronic, doesn't it? Fires of lethargy. If anything, lethargy would be ice, I'd think. 

There's a sense of wonderment adventuring brings. The discovery of new things is rewarding, feeding your heart, soul and body. It's so simple too, just checking out beaches and picking up rocks, wading in the water. Some might think when you've seen one beach, you've seen them all. Not so. Each beach has new things to be discovered. The other day we went to Rathtrevor beach, and it was a fabulous one for finding funky pieces of drift wood.

Today, we went to Williams Beach. 

Lovely rocky, sandy expanse of land with the mountains standing watch as a backdrop. I even went in the water, it was that warm. Up to my thighs. Maybe a bit higher. I found a couple of sand dollars too! But, as it turns out, they are very fragile and I broke them. Clumsy fingers. Sadness. 

It's been an ongoing search to find one too. Last year, I was out with the Sidekick and found one washed up on shore, but it was a bit chipped and not so fancy looking. He reassured me we'd find out down at Rathtrevor but we didn't. Keep in mind, this was a year ago. And then, on Thursday when we were there, he found one, but it was alive. So, obviously, I didn't take it.

Some of you might be wondering how I knew it was alive since I am, by no means, a sand dollar expert. First, the colour, it was a dark purplish colour and all the ones I'd seen in gift shops had been white and the flower on the skeleton more prominent. After looking at the little guy and flipping it over, I noticed the fuzz on the underside of its body. Those fibres are what catch the microscopic food in the water, feeding the sand dollar and, if you look closely, you will see them moving. Cool, right? Now, if you find one that is bleached a light white colour and, when you turn it over, there are no fuzzy parts and you can see a hole in the middle, that's a dead one. 

And also, today there was a beach kitty. He showed up out of nowhere. Let me pet him and take a picture, then wander off to find another person to get pets from. 

Here I am with the beach kitty:

Anyhow, adventuring proved a success today, though I didn't find one piece of beach glass. What's up with that? Sometimes I wonder if people are ever as amazed by the world around them as I. Today I am sun-kissed, salty legged and blessed. 

Where I Live

This tiny village that I live is rather enthralling and I am supremely grateful for it. Small town living is totally for me. There are pretty much only a handful of shops on the main street. The only traffic that we get is when the folk from the neighbouring town come over for festivals and special occasions. It kind of reminds me of Stars Hollow from Gilmore Girls, except not as nearly big and a little more white trashy.

I just love it.

A little example of why?

Yesterday, I parked like a jerk. Backwards, on the wrong side of the street, and half over the stall behind me. It was the worst parking job I have ever done. I was just popping into the store, but I felt bad as soon as I stepped out of my truck. So much so, I felt the need to point it out to the woman working at the shop. She just laughed and said it was better than most of the parking jobs she's seen out there.

And she said, "The best part is you won't get a ticket. I don't think a ticket has ever been written in our town."

It's true. We don't even have police officers!

It's a beautiful place, truly. It reminds me of the saying 'it takes a village', I think this is what they had in mind.

Just a Friday night in the town I love.

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