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.

This Little Lady

Yesterday, there was this amazingly beautiful dog in the trunk of a car out front of my work. I know how alarming that statement is. The trunk was open and the dog had access to the entire car. From where I was sitting, inside my place of employment, perched behind the desk, I watched her standing there, panting and looking incredibly uncomfortable with the situation. Her owners were nowhere to be found, but I figured they were at the restaurant next door because this actually happens a fair bit. The frustrating part being, there is actually an outside dining area where dogs are welcome. 

Anyhow, this little lady had nowhere to go. And no shade. Obviously very well trained, she was watching the door to the restaurant, standing in the trunk. Just waiting. Now, I get the owner probably thought he was being responsible by leaving the trunk open, figuring she couldn't suffocate because she wasn't physically trapped inside the car. 

Except, here's the thing - dogs can't be in direct sunlight for an hour. It can still give them heat stroke. Dogs may like to lie out in the sun, basking in the glory of le soleil, but they often seek shade when they've had enough. And yesterday, the temperature hit a stifling 27 degrees, which felt more like 32, and there I was watching this dog panting, growing more agitated, getting up on the rim of the trunk like she's going to jump out, and looking extremely stressed out. 

Now, I have a healthy respect for all animals. They are, after all, animals and, just like people, their situations can made them grumpy, or protective. It was with this in mind that I decided to give this dog some water. I figured, if she growls and bites me, so be it. I didn't want her perishing of exhaustion right in front of me. So, armed with a bowl of water, I went out to meet her. As soon as she saw me, she jumped out of the trunk and came right over. Not a drop of water was left behind. Clearly, the little lady was thirsty. 

And she was also so lovely. A total sweetheart. After petting her for awhile, I let her into the salon where she hung out, going from one person to the next, seeking out love. When her owner came out to find his dog missing, I quickly let him know where she was and why. He then put her back in the trunk and returned to the restaurant to finish his meal. I have no doubt he probably cared about his dog. He just wasn't very bright. 

First of all, it's far too hot for a dog to be left in a car, even if it is open. That sort of direct heat is uncomfortable for anyone, including a dog covered in fur. Secondly, there are a lot of people who are shy when it comes to dogs, especially one hanging out on its own. With no owner around, what is someone to do if the dog growls or barks, or jumps out of the trunk? If you have a pet, consider them like a child. You wouldn't leave your child in the car unattended, so why is it acceptable to do the same thing with a dog? The answer is: it isn't acceptable. 

Oh, don't worry. I didn't leave her out there in the trunk. I brought her back inside where there was air conditioning, food, water and lots of pets. She stayed with us until her owner finished his meal in the cool restaurant. If you were wondering, no, he didn't say thank you. 

The point of this is to shed light on the reality of the heat on our pets, but also to introduce you to Kilo. A most beautiful dog. She must have had some blue-nose pitbull in her, but a cross with something else as well. She was gentle as a lamb. Quiet. And most definitely one of the most well-behaved pups I've ever had the pleasure of falling in love with. Seriously, I don't condone stealing other people's pets, but I would have taken this one in a heart beat. Just beautiful.  

Bath Time

If Dixon in the bath doesn't make you smile, then you clearly have a dead heart. 

How about him wrapped up in his towel afterwards? 

Oh, Mr. Sun

I think I can speak for everyone in the Comox Valley when I say, today was an absolutely gorgeous day. There is a reason why the West Coast is the Best Coast. It's March 31st and the weather was dreamy. After work, I went home and sat in the front yard with the boys. We simply soaked up the sun. The gloriously warm sun. It felt as if I was saying hello to a long lost friend, a lovely one that I'd missed so much. 

Despite my extensive vocabulary, words cannot explain how nice it was to simply sit on my porch and bask in the sunshine. And that's why we have pictures. I happened to snap one of Dixon that basically sums up how I felt. 

Look at that face. Utter joy!

Anyhow, I am grateful for living on the Best Coast. I mean, to think all those East Coasters talking about snow storms and such. Suckers!

For Shiggles

I use the word shiggles every now and again. It's shit and giggles. Shiggles. For shiggles. It might make me feel a bit more gangster. You know, this suburban white chick in her adorable dresses and adorkable glasses.

This afternoon, I took some photos with Dixon for shiggles. Instead of posting about death and sadness, or moroseness and being tired, I've decided to touch on something I adore. How my guy, the big oaf, my Doofus, the hilariously clumsy fool that he is, doesn't mind taking selfies with me. In fact, I think he kind of likes it.

Here is how we spent the evening.

It's all love. All the time.

Best Way To Start The Day

One of my most favourite things is the ability to look at a situation from another point of view. I'm not talking about 'walk a mile in my shoes' sort of thing. I'm talking about simply standing back and seeing the scene through the eyes of someone else.

This morning, I saw the world through my dog's eyes.

It was the best day ever for him.

Dixon couldn't have come up with a better way to the start the day.

The Sidekick didn't agree, though.

It was a terrible way to start the day.

Why?

Because he dropped all the dog food on the kitchen floor.

It. Went. Everywhere.

And he cussed loudly, and left in a huff.

But Dixon.

Oh, Dixon couldn't believe his good fortune. It was his birthday all over again!

Tail wagging. Ears at the ready. Jumping around. Looking at me with those big brown eyes. And I saw it written all over his face.

"BEST DAY EVER!"

It made me laugh. I mean, I held it together until the Sidekick promptly removed himself from the house in search of coffee. But as soon as that door closed, I laughed and let Dixon relish in the kibble strewn across the kitchen.

Don't get me wrong. I understand the frustration of a morning not going your way. I've dropped enough boxes of spaghetti noodles to sympathize with my Sidekick. But Dixon's face. The utter joy and excitement there. It erased even the slightest annoyance I may have had over cleaning it up. Because I did sweep the kibble up, off the counters, from under the stools, and actually gave the boys their breakfast in a bowl.

Still, I am ever grateful for the ability to see the world through other people's, and creatures', eyes. I guess some people call that perspective.