The Dead Dog

24 06 2017

In my travels, I came upon a dead dog. (Great first line for an epic world-building fantasy) He was lying in the middle of a parking space in Granville Island, an artsy/touristy area of Vancouver that I love to visit and soak up the creative vibes.

I knelt down, trying to remember my first responder abc’s. You know, Airway, Breathing, and the

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third one. Might I need to perform mouth to muzzle? Was a defibrillator nearby? I thought how, upon revival, a dog would be forever in my debt.

However, before being caught inflagrante, the owner, an artist in a nearby studio, appeared. Oh, he does that
all the time, I was told, lies down in random spots. He’s a bit elderly so he is happy to saunter aimlessly. (Like the elderly do on cruise ships!) Then, when he has had enough,  collapses like a puppet whose strings have been cut. (Again, like the elderly) Hence, and you might be able to see it in the photo, the tag around his neck: I AM NOT LOST.

Made my day! I was very happy not to have to spatula a dead dog from the ground. (I think there is an emoji for that) Thanks for reading!

I’ve Discovered . . .

23 06 2017

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And here I thought . . .

20 06 2017

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Whatever Happened To . . .

18 06 2017


A dog is a reminder . . .

16 06 2017

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More Coming to a Future Near You

14 06 2017

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13 06 2017

I occasionally take pictures of other people’s dogs, with their permission. (taking furtive pictures in people’s back yards wasn’t working out) I try to get a little of their buddy’s backstory, if they’re of a mind. Yup, that’s what I do sometimes when I’m on a run or walk. I get made fun of because of my penchant for stooping to pet a dog (or cat) in the middle of a 10K run. Can’t help it.

Anyway, this fellow is a schnauzer, from the German word for ‘snout’, and colloquially ‘moustache’.

His name is the Ojibwe word for sun: GEESIS. His ‘beard’ has to be trimmed or it drags on the ground, his owner said. Holy cow, can I ever relate. Nothing slows you more!

I had a cocker spaniel (Harold) growing up, then a 57 varieties mutt (Laika, named after the cosmonaut dog) after that, purchased at an ugh mall, when I was about 12. Yup, my parents were not that particular.

Remember that scene in the classic movie Johnny Dangerously, with the main character, Michael Keaton, brandishing a price tag gun, and applying tags to the puppies in the pet store he was working in? It was not unlike THAT sort of set-up. Laika lived a good 12 years, and we loved him, though not his behaviour. He was, shall we say, recalcitrant and contrary, which is what you get when you get a dog from the bargain bin.