GOOD OLD GOLDEN RULE DAYS....

All of a sudden I am thrown back in time. The hustle and bustle of ‘return to school’ preparations were part of my life so many years ago; then my children graduated, were into the work force, and the first days of September of each year only meant long, meandering walks to admire the changing leaves and enjoy the crisp autumn air. I seem to have come full circle, LOL!

Two of my three rug rats will be in school this year; the oldest in grade 2, and the mighty Bali entering kindergarten. It means preparing breakfasts early in the morning, making lunches, verifying that each has what is needed for the day, then brushing teeth and getting dressed and out the door to make it to class in time. Evenings will become the eternal arguments of homework vs television or play, watching that the toddler rug rat doesn’t scribble on said homework, the baths, and the repeated ‘Go to sleep! You’ve got school in the morning’.

The boys will also be registered for skating lessons, an extra-curricular activity involving a race against the clock on Thursday evenings, and a blocked Sunday afternoon. With the parents working shifts, and Mommy not much into outside activities anyhow, Mémère will be shouldering part of this responsibility. My son and I discussed it, and we have agreed that these kinds of things are too important to leave aside. Every Canadian child should have the opportunity to decide if he does or does not enjoy skating.

An extra calendar has been hung in the kitchen; notes will be made for school meetings, deadlines, appointments and hopefully, but not likely, we’ll remember everything. There’ll be the Halloween costumes to get together, birthday parties to attend, and the Christmas pageant to practice, not forgetting the boxes of chocolate bars that must be sold to pay for special school outings. Along with this there is the baby – distracting him when he can’t follow his older brothers everywhere, making sure he doesn’t fall down the stands he’ll be sure to climb in the arena, and the potty training which, from previous experience with my own children, he’ll get the hang of just when we’re all dressed in winter suits and on the way out the door to something for which we’re already running late.

Late last evening, under moon and stars, my son and I stood on the gallery, sharing a beer, watching the doggies as they played down in the yard, absorbing the intoxicating silence of the bush. Mommy had picked up the boys at 7 PM. They have spent 90% of their time with us since the separation 6 weeks ago, so this quiet break was welcome. My son ruffled my hair and asked his daily question. “You okay, Mum? Not finding it too hard?”

“So far, so good,” I laughed.

Nothing was said for a moment, but it was obvious that this child of mine, who is so much like his mother, was also thinking of the weeks ahead when he added wryly. “And the best is yet to come.”

“Hmmm. Yes.” I answered. “I’ve doubled up on my vitamins.”

His hug was warm, and we both SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

THE VISIT

Each day will bring you a new experience; some of them normal, some totally unexpected. My yesterday fell into the latter category.

I hadn’t been up long when the dogs' wild barking warned me there was a stranger in the yard. Still in pyjamas, hair uncombed, and slightly groggy from the cold medicine ingested the night before, I went out onto the gallery to see who was there.

Every parent’s heart will skip a beat when a police car shows up in his/her yard, and there were two of them parked in mine! Each of my children, then my grandchildren, spun though my thoughts...an edge of panic had me wide awake now.

The cars were empty, and I couldn’t see the officers anywhere. I had left my garage door wide open to air the place out, and I wondered if they had entered by there and were coming up the stairs in the front. The dogs were making such a ruckus! I hushed them sharply, and it was only when they shut it down that I heard someone calling. I peered out and under the balcony where the entry to my grandson’s apartment is found. A female Agent was looking up at me, and right behind her was second uniform, a male.

“What kind of dogs do you have?” she was asking.

What??

On hearing the voice, Grump and Smooch started up again, racing along the gallery, trying to find a way down. It took a minute to silence them, and during that time I realized that from where she was standing the Agent couldn’t get a good view of the noisy creatures, and she didn’t seem too interested in climbing closer. Her question wasn’t so dumb after all.

"They’re pits.” I answered her. Then with a touch of belligerence, “Why?”

It was with a mixture of relief and consternation that I listened to her explanation. This wasn’t about any of my loved ones being hurt, nor even about my dogs. It was about Sally, my neighbour’s Rottweiler, that had apparently bit a lady, and the police were following up on the complaint. I expressed my disbelief, telling them Sally was a good dog, kept mostly in her yard now because of her cancer. They knew the owner’s first name, and that there was a husky/wolf mix there too (Louka); in short, they had been to the neighbour’s house, but because no-one was home, they were not sure they had the right place, so moved on to visit me. Sending up a silent and grateful ‘Thank YOU!’ that my boys were blocked on my gallery when these Agents showed up,, I stated once again that Sally and Louka were never a problem, that the lady must have been trespassing, and ended the conversation there. The only other thing I said was to wonder aloud why they each had their own car, and this as they were getting into their vehicles.

“I was just in the area, so came along.” the male answered me.

Yeh, right, you sneaky buggers. I could tell he knew what I was thinking, but he owed me nothing more, of course. They rolled out of my lane, and I saw them turn into the neighbour’s driveway. I heard the thump of their car doors closing; then Sally barking from where she was locked inside the house.

I know Sally’s master will give me the follow-up – we watch out for each other’s dogs when we can. A plus - the Rot has had her rabies vaccination, so it should make negotiation easier. She is a sweet dog, though maybe a little grouchy since starting her chemo, but I still suspect that the lady was where she shouldn’t be if Sally really did bite her. I guess we all need to put up some ‘Beware of Dogs’ signs around our properties, if only for our own protection.

Grump and Smooch were overdue for their stroll outside, and were spinning around my feet, doing their best to remind me that I was being remiss in my duties. Because I never have them on a leash, I wanted to wait until the coast was clear.

“Hang on, guys,” I rubbed their heads, hugging each in turn, so happy that it wasn’t one of them who was in trouble. “We’ll wait until those nosy people are gone – then out we’ll go. How about a treat in the meantime?”

My words sent them scurrying to the kitchen counter; somehow they know where the treat bag is. They sat obediently. I doled out the marrow bones as promised and they gazed up at me, their faces full of doggie grin. With a heart full of admiration and love for these marvellous, funny, affectionate companions of mine, I grinned back at them.

If I could share just a part of their devotion with you, I would. Instead, I’ll share our SMILES!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

UGH!

We have been sick – the two youngest rug rats and me. Runny noses, fever, cough....that icky thing that you can do nothing about really except endure and wait it out. When my son mentioned not going into work, I told him there was no problem...I’ve done this before. Staying up with sick kids is a part of every mother’s life. Right. Except that was a few years ago, and I’m a grandmother now.

Wow – it was tough! There were l-o-o-n-g nights, with the baby waking up every other hour and crying because he felt so rough, and a granny feeling just as rough trying to comfort him. During the day the three of them were at home; no-one sends sick children to daycare. There wasn’t much sleep so we were all cranky....but we did survive.

Smooch wasn’t helping any – he was so fed up being restrained to the gallery, no matter how big it is. If anyone happened to let him in while the kids were still up he would be all over them, frightening in his intensity to play, jumping around to burn energy. This morning, after taking the younger rug rats to daycare (they were feeling better finally), my son and Nalou and I did the trip to the vet for stitch removal. That pup howled and lamented for the whole drive in, and it took someone as strong as my son to hold him during the short procedure. During the ride back home he lay on my knee, exhausted simply by his emotions, His first run outside was thrilling. We watched him go, laughing at his antics. His attitude changed immensely, thankfully!

Tonight my son left with the boys to spend a bit of time at his dad’s chalet, telling me to take a good dose of cold medicine and get some rest. Oh my, but yes! No matter how I miss them when they are not here, it was due! I’m heading off to bed immediately after I post this. It is not a moment too soon!

But we all made it – a hurdle passed – so we’re SMILING!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

DOGS & BOYS...AND SMILES

Nalou & Smooch - relaxation - the calm before the storm ;)


My ex-DIL called yesterday. She has known me for 10 years; she probably suspected what I would be thinking after that visit with her mom. She hastened to assure me that she finds the hassle of the separation much easier to deal with because it is evident that her children are happy and doing well. The oldest, who is 7 years old, proved the point by telling his Mommy that he wished she and Daddy would get together again, but not that they move back home. Instead he wants his Mommy to move in here with Mémère and Daddy. And that is the only approbation I need.

Meanwhile, back at the farm...Smooch has been doing very well these past weeks. He has learned to tread softly with the rug rats most of the time. When he begins to get excited, he will listen to the ‘down’ command, although I’m sure he still doesn’t understand why. The interaction between Smooch and the boys is always supervised by either me or my son. He is, after all, just a puppy, and not used to living with youngsters. I’m not worried about him being mean and trying to bite, but he is rambunctious and weighs 80 pounds now. That’s a lot of doggie to contend with when he barrels into you for play.

He was operated on last Tuesday, and the vet told me he should be quiet for a few days. She forgot to tell Smooch. He was no sooner out of the car than he wanted to horse around with Grump, completely oblivious of any pain he was supposed to be feeling. For the next 10 days, he is not allowed to run or jump for fear of opening his stitches. I can’t even tie him up on the lawn, because the stitches need to be kept free of dust or humidity. It means he is again shut up on the gallery for most of the day. The poor puppy is going crazy because of lack of exercise, and driving us crazy to boot. I have an endless supply of chew toys and rawhide sticks, but it still doesn’t prevent him from getting bored and gnawing on the wooden posts of the railings, or any wires he happens to find, or the corner of my French windows if they happen to be open. ARRRGH! Friday, the day scheduled for his vet visit, can’t arrive too soon!

I’m off to the city to see clients this morning. My son will pick up the rug rats either from day care this afternoon or, if the 2 youngest still have the cold, from their Mummy’s house later this morning. He has the next couple of days off, so the construction of the tree house will continue. I know Nalou is anticipating inviting some friends over to spend the night in sleeping bags out there; a big adventure, one that every child should live. Mémère has been practicing (in secret) her ghostly yowls; what’s the fun of spending the night in a tree house if there isn’t a big scare on?

After a day in the city, it has always been a pleasure to arrive home to the exuberant greeting of the doggies. The pleasure is more than tripled now – I also get a warm, hugging welcome from three little rug rats.

Life is good, and my SMILE is as big as that of Kabu’s Cheshire cat!! Lots of it to go around, folks – so sending it out to you!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

MÉMÈRE VS MOMMY?

I saw the look exchanged between mother and daughter – a long one that speaks volumes without uttering a word. I don’t know what was behind it, although I can think of a least a dozen things. It put my teeth on edge, and if the boys hadn’t been with us, I probably would have asked which of the dozen things it was exactly. I didn’t like that look.

My son had left for work at 5:00 AM, and the rug rats were up within 10 minutes of his departure, Saturday or not! The agreement is that the boys live with us during the week, and spend the weekend with their Mom. It was her birthday yesterday, so she was celebrating last night, and advised that she would come for the boys only this morning. I agreed when my son asked me; anything I had planned could be put off until noon or so. When I hadn’t heard from her by 9:30, I decided to call her. She was waiting on her mother, she told me. The grandma in question wanted to see where I lived so that she could visit the boys now and then. I have no problem with that; she used to see them daily, and I can imagine how she misses them since the separation.

As a parent goes, my ex-DIL is very protective, like her mom was with her, and I am nearly the opposite. Her mom worried that there were no security gates to contain the baby, what about the stairs? No, he’s fine – watches where he’s going, I said. Follows the other two everywhere and I do keep an eye out.

The two youngest have slight colds; I was up as they coughed through the first night, the second day was better, and last night even more so. Just a bit of a cough now, a low grade fever, sniffles. I gave them lots of juice and water, spoons of honey and ginger for the cough, cool cloths when they were too warm, more down time than usual. They both ate good breakfasts this morning. I saw no need to use the pumps or Tylenol in the medicine bag, so didn’t. Fearing bronchitis, his Mommy medicated the little one before leaving. Oops!

There were a few other things – yes, the older boys roam the 3 acres outside on their own. They have been told where the boundaries are, and are expected to respect them. Daddy and the oldest already have the floor and ladder done for the tree house. Yes, it is high, but it’s a tree house.

The couple of red spots on the baby? Mosquito bites. He has been playing outside, picking wild raspberries and blackberries with Mémère and his brothers, shoving them into his mouth as fast as he can. He also jumped in the only puddle to be found in the whole lane, getting his shoes very wet. He beat his Mémère to it, but they enjoyed it together when she caught up to him.

Hmmm, that too; black soles because they run around most of the time barefoot. With 2 dogs, 3 rug rats and 2 adults, not counting visitors, plus the dust from the dirt road...and oh - I wouldn’t eat off the floors here unless you wash whatever falls on it first. It all comes off in the bath at night.

The list goes on.

I’ve been expecting some hassles, of course. Disputes happen in most separations, no matter how friendly the participants. I am also very aware that my methods are different than those of my DIL. Fortunately, we sincerely like each other, so I have no doubt that we’ll deal with it as time passes; either adjusting or accepting as needed.

One thing I know for certain – there was disapproval in that look. I was still stinging from it as I stood on the gallery with the doggies and waved goodbye to the rug rats.

“What do you think, guys?” I asked Smooch and Grump. “Is this old Mémère okay as a parent or not?” Probably happy with the sudden undivided attention, they both leaned against me, a sign they’re content.

“That’s what I thought!” I told them, and I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

LUNCH...AND BANQUETS

My youngest Rug Rat


The boys were all up, breakfast had been cleared away, and each of them was doing his own little thing before our drive to daycare. I decided to use the quiet time to get dressed. I went into my bedroom, leaving the doors open so that I could hear them, and stripped off my pyjamas. Undies and jeans were on, and I had just picked up my bra when I heard a noise beside me. I looked around to find Tao, the youngest rug rat, standing there watching me. There were never scruples about dressing in front of my own kids; it will be the same for the grandchildren. I continued what I was doing, but flashed him a huge grin, saying “Hello, my love!”

He smiled back shyly, then pointed to me without saying a word. His finger was up, then timidly pulled back, then pointing again. I looked down to follow his line of sight. Uh-huh, as I thought – it was breasts that drew his attention. Each of the boys had been nursed by Mommy, and for little Tao, who has just turned two, that time was not so long ago. No wonder he zeroed in on that part of my anatomy! I am, however, rather more endowed than his mother.

"Big, huh?” I teased him now. He nodded. I had finished fastening the bra, and was pulling on my shirt.

“Yep – Mummy was lunch,” I winked at him. “Mémère is a banquet!”

Although I’m sure he couldn’t understand what I was saying, he did realize that we were sharing a joke, and he laughed in delight. I closed the last button, and held out my hand. He put his chubby little paw in mine, and we both SMILED as we returned to join his brothers.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THAT AWKWARD MOMENT WHEN....

It was very early Saturday morning, and the doggies and I were alone at the house – oh, and the kitten, Dora, who lives in the apartment downstairs. My son was off to work at 5 AM, the rug rats were spending their weekend with their Mom, and Fred’s little girlfriend was away with her sister. Armed with determination, I changed the cartoon station to my rock music and plugged the hose of the central vac; the house was due for a good cleaning. Oops- when the central vac didn’t come on, I remembered that it was on the same switch as the door chimes. Now what?

I had mentioned to my son the week before that I missed my chimes. They had been removed from the wall unit and I didn’t know how to re-install them. No sooner said that done, Jo had it working. What I had forgotten is that there is a short somewhere in the exterior button, and whenever it rains for a day or two, the chimes come on...and stay on. Grump, ever conscious of what good doggies do, immediately begins to bark a warning when he hears them....and keeps barking as long as they play. When Grump barks, Smooch joins in. This was the reason it had been deactivated in the first place. I was rudely reminded of that fact when the weather changed last week. Jo was not home at the time, so my only option was to throw the breaker to stop the infernal racket! Then it promptly slipped my mind; I never thought to mention the problem to Jo when he got back.

Now I was faced with a dilemma. It takes at least an hour to vacuum the house. Did I really want to endure the extra noise and get it done? Or put it off until Jo would be able to repair it? Ah, what the heck. It was just me and the animals. I decided to take care of it by turning up my music!

It presents quite the picture, doesn’t it? Door bells chiming merrily throughout the house, two excited doggies jumping around barking their heads off, Ozzy blaring from the sound system, and a pyjama clad granny wielding a roaring vacuum hose, alternating between singing along with Ozzy or yapping back at the hounds, with an occasional holler of “It’s Rock N Roll!!!”....all this at 7 AM!

While running some errands later that day, I met my closest neighbour (Louka’s master) at the Canadian Tire store.

“Housecleaning this morning?” he asked casually. I stared at him for a minute.

“Sh*t!” I said sheepishly. ‘I forgot to close the windows again, didn’t I?”

“Uh-huh. You added to the choir? I didn’t know the dogs liked Ozzy.”
I explained about the barking, and apologized. We’ve been neighbours a long time; he knows my habits pretty well. He was on his way out the door when he turned back for a parting shot.

“Hey, if you son doesn’t get around to fixing the chimes, let me know. I’ll come over and do that for you.” Then he winked and added, “And for me.”

We both SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

A WAY HOME

Bali's in the dentist's chair. Pretty cool dude for a first visit!

Mommy telephoned. She was lonesome and wondered if she could come and visit with the boys before going into work at 11 PM. My son had told me to expect her call; she had mentioned it to him when they met at the dentist a couple of days previous. The two oldest rug rats had ‘first ever’ appointments, and one parent was there for each of them.

They are cooperating well, especially for the children, and I didn’t want to throw a wrench into the works, even if my son told me it was my decision to allow her to come or not. My only worry was how the boys would react when she would leave without them, and I said as much to her on the phone. She would be there for bath time and would put them to bed; they would be sleeping before her departure, she reassured me.

“Then why don’t you join us for supper?” I invited. “Jo will be at his job, so there will be only us and the kids.” The rug rats were excited when they heard the news; mommy was coming! Man, how I remember that feeling from my own childhood! I can also remember my Mom telling me how ill at ease she felt whenever our foster mother would correct us in her presence.

With this in mind, I decided that I would leave my ex DIL alone with the boys after our meal. Bali only confirmed that my decision was a good one by being bold, thinking that he could get away with it in front of his mommy. When he stood on the chair during our meal, his mother asked him politely to sit. Bali ignored her as usual, grinning at her, then glancing in my direction to see if I would dare do something about it. My expression when I stood up to approach him told him that yep, Mémère is a daring old thing. He sat down immediately. I caught a glimpse of his mom’s face, her eyes downcast, and my heart went out to her.

“I have some errands to run,” I said, “so if you don’t mind, I’ll go now while I have the chance.” I sensed her disappointment, even though she agreed, and realized that she had counted on chatting to me too. I quickly told her that I would return around the hour the boys go to bed; we could have coffee together. That girl has one sweet smile, and my statement put me on the receiving end of it. I was reminded how much I care for her.

Later, she attempted to explain her views on the why and what of the separation. I listened, and I understood. I also encouraged her to pull out her easels and brushes and immerse herself in something she loves to do, but had put aside in the hustle bustle of ordinary life. We talked about how an artist is special; an artist can only flourish when practicing art, otherwise something inside shrivels and dies. I told her she was blessed with rare talent. “What you are living now calls for you to get back into it. I expect you’ll find yourself there, as my son will find himself again in his music. You are both fortunate because you know the boys are okay here in the meantime. Not everyone has the chance; don’t let it go by.” She nodded then divulged her hope.

“Maybe one day Jo and I will find each other again,” she said wistfully. “And what we’ll have will be stronger.” Maybe, I thought. And maybe not. We hugged each other when she left, and neither of us was dry-eyed.

I was beside my son last night when he called her, wanting to know what time I should bring the rug rats over for their weekend. She didn’t answer the phone immediately. When she did, I heard him ask if she was okay. He got the information he wanted, ended the conversation, then turned to tell me, “She was painting. She has carried all her materials into the sunroom, and is working on a canvas she began a long time ago.”

“Good!” I said.

‘Yup,” he replied. And we both SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE END...AND A BEGINNING

It’s done. My son brought me the rug rats in the early afternoon before joining his lady for the inevitable discussion. He came back home 4 hours later, relief apparent on his face; the pain was evident too. They both concluded that trying again would have maybe been an option if no children were involved.

This is the second time that she has asked him to leave within the past year, then changed her mind, and each time it was for the same reason; she felt she was losing herself in the relationship, she was confused, not sure what she wanted exactly. The whole family pays the note, and Jo was not willing that his boys go through it again, especially with a very good chance it would keep happening. Realizing that she is still not clear in her feelings, that the promise to change her character would be impossible to keep, and for the sake of her children’s emotional health, she agreed with his decision. The details for custody and property will be worked out later. In the meantime, the boys will be spending the weeks with us, and the weekends with their mom.

The separation is amicable on all fronts. Our family cares deeply for the girl, but right from the start it was obvious that she and Jo were very different. She is a talented artist, and her nature is as sweet as her appearance is beautiful .She is however an introvert, slightly egocentric and, having been sheltered by her parents, lacking the experience and assurance that many women of her age have long acquired.

My son was raised in a home where people were coming and going on a regular basis, learned early that sharing is a must, friends were important, and to “stand on your own two feet – you will tumble, but you get back up!” He knew who he was by the time he was 20; she has just now taken her first tentative step on the road to self discovery.

It was a classic case of opposites attract; the question was the length of time the attraction would hold. Ten years later the strong physical magnetism is not sufficient. When the going gets rough, something much deeper is needed...and it’s not there.

All endings are sad, but with each ending there is a new beginning. I am sure that, with time, she will find within herself a lovely person full of potential, and hopefully a partner with similar tastes and ideals.

As for my son? There is a discernible ease of tension in his movements. I hear him singing and laughing as he plays with the boys, and his charming little grin made an appearance this morning. He took his tumble, and is on his way back up. Someone, somewhere will be waiting for him too.

So his Mama is SMILING.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

FAREWELLS

Fred and Marie -The sweet farewell, when a day feels like a year


Oh my, but the house feels empty this morning! Besides me, there are only the two doggies, and Fred’s little girlfriend who is hiding downstairs, probably crying her eyes out after having bid her first love goodbye for another long month. My daughter and her youngest slept over last night, and have just left to drive a despondent Fred to the airport. He’s off to his job in Alberta, and won’t be back until September. Marie-Eve (the little girlfriend) decided not to go with them, preferring privacy for the difficult farewell. When Fred left her she was snuggled up to her kitten...and a box of tissues. "Oh, gentle feelings, soft sounds, the goodness and the gradual stilling of a soul that has been moved; the melting happiness of the first tender, touching joys of love—where are you? Where are you?"
- Ivan Turgenev, First Love, Ch. 7

The rug rats are away spending the weekend with their Mom. It’s amazing how quickly I have become used to the changes around here. My son and the boys had only been gone an hour on Friday and I was walking around in a sort of daze; finding myself at a loss without the sound of young voices, no pitter patter of little feet, no demands for juice or strawberries or referee service, LOL! I rallied within the hour though. The doggies and I slipped back into our ‘before’ routine, taking a long walk, sitting quietly on the gallery watching the moon rise in the evening sky, followed by a long soak in the Jacuzzi.

Yesterday my son and I had guests for supper. Jo loves to cook, and I could hear him singing as he did ribs and Idaho potatoes and fresh asparagus on the BBQ. It was wonderful to see him happy, and I suspected that the agonizing wavering on his decision was done. He confirmed this just before he left to sleep over with some friends. He didn’t actually tell me what the decision was, just that his head was clear now. He added that he would be bringing the boys back here this afternoon, then would return for a discussion with their Mom. She’s regretting her actions, and has been trying to give him space, promising to change. Although I love the girl as a daughter, and fear that she will pay dearly for her mistake, it was because of my influence that Jo forgave and forgot on the first occasion this happened. He told me as much, and it’s one of the reasons I refuse to get involved this time. My heart aches for her, but que sera, sera.

It’s still early, so I think I’ll go curl up in my comfy bed with a good book and maybe cop a little snooze while I have the chance. The timing is perfect; it’s raining here now, the drops echoing on my tin roof. Hopefully it is doing the same in Camelot, nourishing Kabu’s garden and inciting the gnomes to dance in glee. I know others need this weather badly, and I wish I could share it with you. Not within my ability, we know, but I do have one thing I CAN share – a humongous SMILE!

It’s up, up and away!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

THE RETURN OF KUJO

The beautiful Louka flirting with Smooch


Smooch was overdue for his 3rd vaccination. I’ve been putting it off both because a vet visit is so darned expensive ($100.00 !!), and because the pup hates going there; he tends to become much like Kujo the moment he gets a whiff of the vet’s establishment. However, the beautiful Louka, my neighbour’s husky/wolf mix, is going into heat again, and my puppy has grown up. His interest in Louka’s condition plus the arrival of my rug rats made it imperative that Smooch be inoculated immediately in preparation for the big ‘O’.

I enlisted the help of my son, and it was a smart idea. The pup was uncooperative the minute we entered the examination room, and 77 pounds of stubborn pit-bull is not easily handled. The vet was a woman not much bigger than me; even together we could not have accomplished what my son did so easily. He picked up the dog and put him on the table in one swift move, then stood there to hold him still. The obedience training we’ve been doing helped a little and one could tell my patting him was somewhat reassuring, but it wasn’t sufficient to overcome his apprehension. If Jo had not been there with his strength, there is no way, short of tying the pup down, that we could have kept him on that table long enough for the necessary probing, then the needles. Smooch wasn’t the only one relieved when it was over. He has a part whine, part yowl that he does to show his displeasure; and we were serenaded with this for the whole drive back home. I don’t have to tell you that the date for the upcoming operation was chosen with my son’s availability in mind!

The moment he jumped out the truck, Smooch’s attitude changed. My happy-go-lucky, loving companion raced toward the waiting Grump, probably to tell his big ‘brother’ about the traumatic experience, then ran back to me again to lick my hand. My son, who was watching the scene, said it all. “Humans should be more like dogs,” he remarked. “Forget and forgive immediately. Now we play.”

We both SMILED. Sharing it with you, folks!

Luv from the bush in Quebec.

OUCH!!!

Nalou & Smooch - buddies!


“Mémère! Smooch is eating your chair again!!”

Nalou, the oldest rug rat, was standing at the window looking out onto the gallery. His words galvanized me to action. Darn that pup anyway! Forgetting that the poor thing has been spending most of his time shut away there and was probably bored to death, I took off out the door, intent on kicking his butt (not literally) for tearing my swing apart. I was moving fast, so when my slippered foot hit the rain water covering the wooden deck, I went down hard. Owie!!

I couldn’t get up immediately. Nalou’s worried call of “Are you okay, Mémère?” was faint, and I didn’t know if I should reassure him or ask him to go downstairs and get Fred to come and help. I lay there for a moment, and here was Smooch, ears pricked in interest. I felt him nose my ear, then he was licking my face with joy, happy that Mistress came outside to play. Fortunately he didn’t know what I’d been planning!!

I managed to stand up on my own, but spent the day moving at a reduced speed. By the time my son came home, I was feeling much better. The next morning found me struggling to even get out of bed; it was hurting so badly. The result was that my son was unable to go to work because I ended up in the emergency room. Any movement would send an acute shooting pain from my right shoulder up into my neck. The nice lady doctor palmed my back, then told me it was a strained muscle and prescribed anti-inflammatory pills; no x-rays necessary unless the medicine didn’t do the trick within a couple of days. In spite of being sore, I was relieved there was nothing more serious.

I would like to tell you here that my 3 grandsons were very sympathetic and considerate with their wounded Mémère. Not!! Daddy warned them, and they stared at me for a moment, searching for any sign of blood or gore, I bet, and then, being typical children, quickly forgot about it. In no time at all the baby was clamouring up on my knee for some hugs and some tickles and horsing around. Bali did his running jump, expecting me to catch him (of course I did!), and Nalou was asking for help to build a chateau from cardboard boxes. Hmmm...one doesn’t get to sit and whine for long around here!

The event was the catalyst – it was time for Smooch and the rug rats to learn to live together. The boys were instructed on what and what not to do, and either my son or I keep a constant eye out while the pup is with them. He was a little hyper when first allowed to run around inside, but is slowly settling down...and loving the attention. He and Nalou are fascinated with each other.

Mémère’s babies are all together now, and she’s SMILING!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec