Chrissy ( the fisherwoman ) told me about an excellent place to take the dogs, as well as it being one of the most gorgeous spots around here. And on both accounts she was dead on.
I took a few photos of the landscape, but it was pointless really. Photos do not do this spot justice, at all.You have to actually be there in body to understand. I just stood in one spot, with my jaw hanging down, amazed at the natural beauty of it all.
Yale, which is about 15 miles north of me, is the smidge of heaven. That little district is steeped in gold rush history. I will definitely become a regular where we were yesterday, and there are hordes of other spots, including forestry roads, where the dogs and I will be adventuring.
Didn't make it to Flood Falls the other day, too much slushy wet snow falling. I'm a pussy I suppose, 'cause the dogs would have gladly trecked it. I can walk in rain, hail, beating sunshine, but I refuse to do wet slushy snow.
Our walk yesterday began at a field off the highway ( Trans Canada #1 ) that we go to a few times a week. It's also a perfect *pee break* spot for the dogs if I'm driving to Chilliwack. It's the old Hope-Princeton Hwy, an old 2-laner that is overgrown now with blackberry bushes, scrub and fruit trees..... I guess the fruit trees came from the old homesteads that used to line that old highway way back then.
Now the "highway" ( barely a one lane now ) is used by fishermen to get to the good spots to fish. ( Oh! sidenote: My friend Chrissy is a fisherwoman, is fisherwoman a word?? does anyone know where to get fishing gear in adult sizes in the color pink? There is one website, but they are kind of limited....)
You jump over the tracks, head down through a well hacked back scrub and brush to get to this:
To the right of that photo is Herrling Island, a Cottonwood tree farm owned by Scott Paper. They harvest the trees for toilet paper. Poor trees.....
The river is the Fraser River, and it was running pretty fast so I kept Watcher and Frankie on shore. There are alot of still pools in this river but this area is not one of them.
Back up over the tracks and wow, what a pretty scene! Lots and lots of wild Rose bushes!
I love spring. Everything is new and happening! I believe these are new shoots from a Hazelnut tree. ( Frankie in the background )
Here's Frankie urging Watcher and I to hurry our asses. With every day he is becoming more brave. He darts ahead, but always stops and makes sure I am heading in the same direction as he is.
It never fails to boggle my mind when I come across scenes such as the one below. What the hell is it with some people? Where I see a lovely pastoral setting, they see a perfect place to dump their used items....grumble grumble grumble.
Off to Flood Falls...... And this was weird because the trail to the actual Falls has never been marked before, but this time there was this sign: and it's not even marking the trail! Well, it's marking a trail, but not the one that we normally use. The one we normally take is wide, and well worn. This one was steeper, the ground was loose, and it was difficult to make out a trail at all. But we went up it anyway for a change.
See what I'm saying....wtf is the trail?
Follow me!
Cool! Someone built a seat for the weary about half-way up!
At long last ( not really, it was only a 1/2 hour up :-) the falls are in my sight....
Pool at the bottom of the Falls
And another seat! Yippeeee!
The gully from the Falls
View from across the highway....Flood Falls is smack dab in the middle. It was a nice day and a couple of great walks. On the way home I had to take a photo of this old barn.....isn't it cool!
Watcher, Frankie and I meandered through my small garden this morning. ( and oh my gosh, what a beautiful sunny and warm day it was! )
The Parsley.....
Tri-Colored Sage....
Green Sage....
Rosemary....
And some Thyme....
Heckle, or is it Jeckle? came through the winter just dandy. He enjoys just hanging around....
And awwww, I grinned when I saw these beginnings of Snowdrops. Now I know spring is right around the corner.
Today at work I was talking with a lady, Linda, and we both agreed that we are living in a beautiful area of Canada. My gawd, the mountains awe me each and every time I ogle at them. ( and I do alot of mountain ogling :)) We have mountains for hiking, fields for walking, rivers and creeks and streams to splash/swim in, waterfalls to gaze at, and hordes and hordes of trails and Provincial Parks to marvel at.
Every morning I take my cuppa tea and go outside with the dogs...this is Hope Mountain, directly behind my house.
Oh, and here's a great photo of the town of Hope....this would be looking west towards the Fraser Valley. That's the muddy Fraser River winding through and a tiny streak of the Coquihalla River can be seen meeting up with the Fraser. ( in between the golf course and the town of Hope )
Oh! and omg, just looking at this photo disgusts me now that I know how scenic and large the frickin' golf course is! I dunno, it just seems ludicrous to take up that much beauty for a small majority of humans. Damn selfish beings!
Today was rather boring for Watcher, Frankie and myself. My fault. I just felt like vegging out and staying close to home. But we did get in quite a few ball games and "chase me chase me" games....but mostly we just lazed around enjoying the warmth outside.
The only negative ( as far as walks go around here ) is that because we are in such a rural area, I need to be aware of the wildlife, lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Nooo, actually just bears and cougars. The bears are starting to wake, and will be dribbling down from the mountains soon, if not already. In a couple of months I will have to think on the young cougars that got kicked out of the den because Mama is now pregnant again, or in season to be. And those youngsters ( about year olds ) are nasty bastards. They are hungry....Mom previously brought them dinners for the most part....and scared and their prey drives kicks in when they think they might have an edge up. I heard that 99% of the time, if you see a cougar out in the wild, it's already been tracking you for quite some time. Scary shit huh?
Our first spring here a bear sow and a cub came galloping down my street! Jack and I were out in the yard after dark and heard this weird huffing and puffing, and getting closer. ( sidenote: you know how in the scary movies the girl/guy hears a chainsaw and screaming in the next room,and opens the door to investigate and everyone who's watching this scene screams in their mind "Don't open the door!!! Run you idiot!! Get out of there!!! Well, I screamed that to my own mind as I walked to the gate and peered over. ) There was this HUGE Black Bear and her German Shepherd sized cub kinda' trotting in the middle of the road with a police car with lights flashing behind them. Herding them out of town. Just bizarre.
A couple of months ago I looked at this towering pile of boxes. All filled with my stuff. It was becoming scary because it grew! More stuff piled on more stuff with each passing week it seemed.
I was a hoarder of "stuff". I say "was" because I opened every box, and held every item in my hands. If my heart didn't go pitter patter when I held it, it got tossed into a box for charity. In the end ( 3 days later ), the one box turned into 28 boxes of "stuff" destined for charity.
Books. What the hell was I hanging onto all those books for? Was I planning on opening a library one day?
Clothes. Does any one person need the shameful amount of T-Shirts and sweaters and shorts I had? Was I planning on opening a gently used clothing store one day?
Trinkets and Baubles. Whoa. All that stuff sure could take up alot of space even if I had room for them, which I don't.
I hope I can maintain the desire to keep my life as uncluttered as possible with stuff, that in the end means squat really.
When Jack was 3, he began this nightly ritual that devastated me when it ended.
When he'd see me crawl into bed he would leap up, throw himself onto his back, and offer me up his inside back legs to scratch. He would stay there till my fingers were just about to sever themselves from my hand. I guess he realized I'd need them for the next nights scratches. Ha! Smart boy that one.
About a year and a half ago his back legs started failing him. At first he did the big leap onto the bed in slow motion. Then he leapt up with his front paws and kinda' bunny-hopped up with his back legs. Then ( and this was a VERY embarrassing thing for him the first few times ) he could only grip the top of the bed with his front paws and I would help the rear end. And then the inevitable happened this last summer; he couldn't even grip with his front paws.
I had someone build him a box to step up on to the bed, but his hips and shoulders were not following his orders. The holistic tries nor the pharmaceutical drugs really helped with either. Not enough for him to become a bed leaper again anyway.
So, I'm laying in bed this past Thursday night plotting the fun he is going to have before we go to the Vet in the morning. The stroll on his favorite walk, then the game where he stays while I hide his ball and then he finds it...THAT game is his all time favorite. It's the one to bring out the mile wide grins from both of us! Then a snack and some lovin'.
But the entire time I layed there I was sad. Not just oh me oh my sad, but every square inch of my body was the saddest it's ever been. On the edge of wailing like a banshee sad. On the edge of smashing everything I adored sad. I guess I was close to losing it.
And in the midst of all that inner turmoil Jack gets up from his bed in the closet, leaps onto the bed, throws himself on his back and offers me his inner back legs. I layed there in shock! WTF! He lifts his head and looks at me as if to say " come on Mom, scratch my legs! " My fingers started scratching and Jack starts smilin'. So I start smilin'. To Jack I said, "thanks baby, thanks for this gift, I missed this". * scratch scratch scratch *
Lots of people would say that *God* stepped in and knew that both of us needed that one thing that night. Maybe, maybe not. Who's to say for sure. But while I was scratching Jack I remembered a story that my friend Jo had told me a few days before; Her nieces very young ( 5 or 6 I believe ) son was very very ill and he was dying. One day he was speaking with his Mom and he said "God likes potato chips".
World renowned people in science will dispute the existence of *God* at every turn. But when a small innocent dying boy tells his mother that "God likes potato chips", well I'm on his side. Did God come and converse with this little boy, sharing a bag of potato chips? What about all the other children's stories ( and there are hundreds of them documented ) about speaking with God. If there is no God then these children must have been lying or dreaming? I don't buy that they were lying or dreaming. They had some sort of experience that was loving and kind. An all positive one.
All I know about it is that there isn't a snowballs chance in hell of Jack ever jumping, no LEAPING, up on the bed without some sort of assistance.
Jack woke very slowly yesterday morning, and took a while to fully wake. He'd been like that for the past 30 days. Once up, he had a super duper breakfast of BBQ chicken breast, 2 tins of sardines, and a big brick of aged white cheddar. And then a big ass bowl of milk to chuck it down. After breakfast with a cloth and a bowl of warm soapy vanilla water I began a ritual that Jack and I have had since the second week in January......I wiped him down from head to toe of the pee he might have inadvertently layed in overnight. And to digress a little bit..... Jack truly loved me doing that for him. He would lay down when he saw the bucket come out, and when I was done the first side he would roll over for the other side. Then he would stand up all shiny and smelling of vanilla, and head outside for another pee break. Every morning for the last 30 days was the same.
That morning he ate his favorite foods, we took a walk on one of his favorites spots, and we played the hide and seek ball game. He sniffed alot of coyote poop, told a rabbit that jumped out in front of him that it was that rabbits lucky day, and posed for the pictures I was taking of him. And here's the weird part....Jack despises my taking photos of him. I have 3 katrillion of him running towards the camera to ruin the shot,or turning away just before the shutter clicked. he's always always always hated it. But yesterday morning he f***ing posed for me! Another gift!
I had talked to him a couple of times about heaven and that he would be going there soon. But this morning,after our outing, and on our way to his Vets he seemed to *listen*. He got up from the back of the van and sat between the seats and listened. He smiled during my talk. He kept picking up and putting down his soccer ball, I said "yes, you will take your ball". Smile smile smile.
He left this world with his blankie, his ball, an eagle feather we had found on that mornings walk, and my love. He left knowing and feeling the love. He left feeling my arms embrace his body.....He left hearing "I love you Jack" whispered in his ear a billion times.
My heart is broken in pieces.
The very last photo I took of my best friend Jack:
JACK DONNELLY
June 27th, 1997 ~ February 15th, 2008
Here is a song that best describes my feelings and thoughts at this moment. And always will. Bonnie Raitt singing "Wherever You May Be".
When our companion animals health fails them, and us, we as their care-takers need to make the most heart wrenching decision. Should they be allowed to pass on their own, or should we mere humans intercede and assist them.
With Ruger, that decision was stolen.
With Jack, I waffled back and forth. I had booked one euth, and canceled the morning of. He came to me after his breakfast of poached eggs with his soccer ball in his mouth, put it down, and then rolled it towards me. How could I snuff out his life, when he so clearly was not ready to leave? I couldn't.
I have spent hour after hour after hour on this computer reading people and their pets experience with it. I spoke with Jack's 2 Vets. I read ALOT of posts from a very wise woman, Carol, who is director of a senior animal sanctuary here in Mission B.C. called S.A.I.N.T.S., and last night I spoke to my "soul sister" Jo.
It's not that I needed help making the decision of precisely when to assist Jack with this last transition, My brain needed the reassurance of people I trust, that what I was about to do was correct. Does that make any sense?
I knew this past Monday that it was a matter of days. My heart knew, my soul knew....and I firmly believe that Jack passed along to me that he knew. And I feel completely at peace with the decision. Because it was a joint decision between the two of us.
The decision was based on the fact that this bastard cancer Jack has, hemangiosarcoma, is a death sentence. ( I posted previously about my thoughts on chemo ) The last few days of Jack's life would have been possible nosebleeds, ( from internal hemmoraging ), passing out and coming to, only to eventually pass out again and again....till he didn't come to again. And that not coming to part, that dying part, would feel to Jack like he was being smothered. And weight loss.....my boy has already lost 16 pounds in 36 days.
I don't want him suffering nosebleeds, passing out, substantial weight loss, and feeling like he is being smothered to death if I can help it. And I can.
Jack's a very stoic being, and I want him to keep his dignity. It's bad enough he pisses himself because of the drugs. I wept like a baby the first time he realized that he had done that; he looked at the puddle, looked at me, and turned his head away. No amount of my soothing him and telling him "I don't care baby,no problem baby", took away his utter embarrassment.
I made the dreaded call to his Vet this morning.
Today's time with my boy will be spent on a nice walk to his favourite spot, home to whatever he wants to eat, then I'm going to set up my camera on a self timer and take a whack of photos of him and I together.
I'm going to miss my best friend, but I won't dwell on that today. I'll have the rest of my life to do that.
Go hug your companion animal, tell them you love them.
