Blast from the Past

It has occurred to me that while I've been writing this blog, and mysteriously people have been reading it, I haven't ever really detailed my 'qualifications' as it were ... so maybe I'm just talking out of my ass. I've never thought my past was all that interesting and having met people with more complicated histories I think mine is downright boring. Still I should detail a bit of my childhood ... try to stay awake.



The best place to start is at the beginning and the beginning begins with my parents. They moved to Canada from England in the early '70's with their Pulis and within a few years had two children. I was in the ring before I was born and literally grew up attending dog shows every few weeks. There is a picture of three year old me at a Puli Specialty in CA covered in dirt and grime having been 'lost and found' by some Puli people and returned to my parents when they got out of the ring.



I have many memories of Puli Specialties in San Franscico, Los, Angeles, Portland, & Denver. I went to Disneyland when I was 6 but of course it was a day's break from the round of dog shows we were attending. I travelled to Idaho, Montana, Oregon, Washington ... we were taken out of school without a moment's hesitation to attend dog shows. What was more important? Learning the elements and the existential meaning behind the 'The Grapes of Wrath' or learning how to win and lose with grace and see the world?

My brother and I often showed the dogs that were 'not supposed to win' and sometimes we won anyway. I didn't want to compete in junior handling when I was very young because I think on some level I knew I wanted to be better at it before allowing someone to judge me and not the dog. Mostly I showed the dogs in the classes and my mom took dogs into the group but as I aged that sometimes changed depending on the circumstances. Somewhere along the way my brother stopped coming unless he was absolutely required and it was usually just me and my mom.


I grew up knowing and seeing the same people year after year. They got older watching me grow up. Occassionally I'd get the "I remember you when you were this tall" and I would think "I remember you when you had more hair." People have come and go from the show scene but there are still the die hards who religiously attend the shows and remember me as a child.

I wasn't a really competitive handler until I was in my early teens and was the Puli lackey hauling crates, walking dogs and showing the fillers. Pulis encompassed my life and time at home and on the road - the only thing that captivated my attention outside dogs was the horses we had on the acreage. It was sometimes a toss up between Mouse the Shetland Pony or playing with puppies ... some tragic childhood I had.

The Village

Everyone always says a vacation is never long enough ... I was in beautiful Nova Scotia. It was Thanksgiving and the colors were turning while I was there - everyday got more vibrant. What I wouldn't give to see that every year instead of a flah of yellow and then naked trees two second later.

I was in the 'elbow' of the province in Pictou County where the first Scots arrived to make new lives for themselves in the 1780's. They came over on a ship called The Hector which is replicated in the town of Pictou, known as 'The Birthplace of New Scotland'. (Nova Scotia means New Scotland.)

I can't even beging to express how many trees there are in Nova Scotia and by the end of my trip the colors were quite literally like a watercolor painting. The maples of course were showing off the most since they have the most to brag about what with being on the flag and all. I suspect the inspiration for the flag was this kind of maple.

There are beaches in some places, defying the majority of the coast where trees teeter right up over the water. I was at Melmerby Beach where there is a couple miles of soft sand and you can see PEI in the distance across the Northumberland Stait.

I stayed with just the nicest people in the world, they have a couple Pulis and Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retrievers. They got one of their Pulis from my parents - Trevor - who was infatuated with me and really, he was easy to like as a result. We even went to a dog show in Truro - a much smaller affair than the shows here but the good dogs were good and the not so good dogs were not so good ... just like any other show.

Have to get back on track with life here and prepare for the arrival one one Leeloo puppy. Raimi tortured Halo the whole time I was was gone ... so it will be his turn when the puppy arrives ...

The Holiday

I haven’t been updating for the last couple days – been busy getting ready for my week’s vacation to Nova Scotia. Raimi is staying with Tanja and Halo and he will be so happy to have his momma’s company for a few days. I’m not sure how happy Halo will be but she’s put up with worse.

I woke up this morning to Raimi snuggled all cozy and content next to me and it was hard to rouse him to get up. The alarm goes off and he just makes himself heavier and more comfortable. I would find it easier to succumb to the snuggling warmth of a nice lie in on a weekday except for the attention of the cats who know that once the alarm goes off they will get fed.

Ever wake up to a claw hooked in your nose? Oh yes … try it sometime. Weasley insists on walking up and down the bed purring and meowing and Ceilidh sits at my feet staring at me. If you’ve ever been stared at by Ceilidh you’d understand how it would be motivational. Mallaig sits on the bedside table and occasionally reaches over to tap my head while purring like a NASCAR engine.

I finally manage to get everyone off the bed, flip the covers over and back to ‘make’ the bed (a game for Weasley who always finds himself gleefully under the covers), let Raimi out, try not to break an ankle on the herd of cats preceding me up the dark hallway, make their food & Raimi’s, let him in, hop in the shower and prepare for another day.

For the next week I will miss the four ring circus mornings and wake up to a coastal town on the other side of the country. I do hope Raimi enjoys his visit with his mom and I will have to prepare for the onslaught of overjoyment when I return. Plus - by next Friday hopefully we’ll have some super cute 5 and 6 week old puppy pics to update and a Leeloo chosen!

Face Off

Last Thursday babies were 4 weeks old. Anyone who's seen the progression of a litter of puppies knows a universal truth. Four weeks is the time they begin to upload all the adorable traits of a puppy and are so cute you want to squeeze the bejeebers out of them. Ahem ... I mean gosh they are darling aren't they?

This is 4 and a half ridges ... we lost part of one along the way but I'm sure it will re-appear. They are a mish mash of bewilderment at this point and new surfaces, noises and smells will often tell you which puppies are the 'brave' ones and which are the followers. Personalities will start to emerge and even in a litter this large you will definitely get an idea about temperament.

And here are the pretty faces of which Leeloo has yet to make herself known. The puppy on the far right - with the four white feet - really draws my eye. She is so like Karma from my last litter I can't believe it. In Canada some judges white think that white is an absolute no-no but to overlook good structure because of white does no service to the breed.

One of those little faces will soon be in my home bugging the hell out of Raimi. Can't wait!

Raising Arizona

I had a really good Petal story I remembered at about 6am this morning and thought "no problem" I'll remember it. But now it's 12 hours later and I can't recall what it was. I do know I haven't mentioned a major part of Petal's past ... actually a friend of hers that I still think of now and then.

When I lived in Canyon Meadows in Calgary I had just moved back to town from Saskatchewan and had also just started dating Phil. The Primordial Soup roommate I had at the time was (unbeknownst to me when I moved in) bi-polar and medicated. I had Petal with me of course and Backward Moron got it into her head she also wanted a dog. So of course she put virtually no thought into the process and one day came home with a free puppy named Arizona but was too lazy to actually call her that so she became Zoe.

This little black dog was what my mom likes to call a village dog; no discernible breed, about 30 pounds, maybe 20 inches at the shoulder, pretty foxy face with partially pricked ears. Black all over except a white strip on her chest. Smart as a whip and about 5 or 6 months old based on her teeth.

I lent The Single Celled Organism a crate to house train Zoe which went terribly, she destroyed some of Ho-Bag's hideous slut shoes and generally behaved like a puppy that was pretty much ignored by her owner til she did something wrong. Normally I'd get home before Mattress Girl and let Zoe out to pee and we'd all go for a walk. Gradually this also began to occur on weekends until Phil and I were pretty much caring for her dog exclusively.

An example of the Knicker Nancy's psychosis was when she bought one of those roll-a-treat balls but took it away after a couple days because Zoe would crash it into the wall while rolling it. Nice. She would also let Zoe out of the the crate after 12 hours of containment and scream at her because the puppy peed on the floor 'out of spite'. Trailer Trash had two kids that didn't live with us so they'd come over on weekends and she'd lay on the couch all day with a hangover while the kids played my Playstation. Zoe was living a half life until one day she allegedly nipped one of the kids. Slutface Sally threatened the Humane Society.

Phil and I intervened and told Redneck Skank we'd take responsibility. Basically Zoe considered us her owners anyway so it wasn't much of a leap. In the time that Zoe lived with me we did all kinds of things together; we lounged on weekends, went camping, walks at the park and river, visited Phil's friends and parents. Basically everyone knew and loved Zoe.

Now we had to find her a good home. In the interim one of Phil's friends kept Zoe temporarily so she was not under The Tramp's roof while we found a forever family. We never told McSlutbag where Zoe ended up and she never asked.

So Zoe went to live with Phil's parents and now at about 8 years old she still does. Over the years we spent so many hours walking and camping with those two dogs. I have some really great photos of Petal and Zoe together on camping trips, in the car and at the park. I'll have to scan them in one day. Zoe loves water and retrieving to the point that finds her own stick and puts it at your feet. Her body shakes and she whines, quivering with excitement. Many a happy afternoon was spent with Zoe and Petal on long walks to the river.

Petal and Zoe were good friends and each life was better for having met. A few years ago Phil's parents moved to the coast of Vancouver Island and I can't imagine a better place for her than to have daily access to a beach and endless sticks. I'm glad in a way that I had that idiotic roommate who brought home a free little black dog - she was one of the best dogs I have ever known.

A Quiet Drink

Golden Eye