the scene this morning...

They were playing so nicely, and then...they both got stuck under the highchair. All part of the chaos of a two-and-a-half year old and an eight month old.

homework

With September here and John back at school, Anderson has been imitating him. He walks around the house with his drawing board saying, "I got to do my homework". He drew his first picture on this erasable board so I took a photo. It is of himself, he was talking while drawing, "my feet, my hands..." and the final touch (the little line at the top of his head), "Anderson's curly hair."

bird watching

 

 

rainy day

Gotta love a rainy day with a big pile of books and your two snuggly cats.

1960

April 1960, my Baba at age 33 and my mother at 15 months.

8 months old

A little giggly, curious girl is eight months old today. Eight months means cereal all over the floor, octopus arms and spinning wrists as she waits for breakfast, tummy spinning around on the floor to reach toys, strong legs for jump jump jumping, big belly laughs, grabbing at hair and cat fur when going in for a kiss, playing hard - sleeping hard, cross-eyed stares at little details on toys, wispy curls, wet, soggy hands, and little teeth dotting her grin.

Tabu's Story

Tabu came into the SPCA shelter in the cold, snowy January of 1999. Her icy blue eyes had a piercing look to them. I was scared of her; she was probably more scared of me. She was rescued from abusive owners, but then left outside to bear the elements with her five newborn puppies. She arrived with only two surviving puppies. They were one week old and had frost bitten pink tummies.

I always carried treats when I did my rounds at the shelter, while feeding and cleaning up after the dogs. Tabu cowered in the corner of her cage, and I wasn’t sure if she’d bite out of fear. So I kept doling out the treats to keep her happy.

Soon, when I arrived for my shifts on Saturdays and Sundays, she’d be jumping in the air with glee, wagging her tail. She was a new dog. All she needed was to learn to trust. It was a long process, and each new person had to put in the time and energy to get to that place: to see Tabu as a “normal” dog.

Once pups get to weaning age, most mother dogs get a little aggressive and territorial at feeding time, biting their pups if they approach her while eating. But Tabu was different, she backed away and always let her puppies eat. So much that I had to separate them, so that she could actually eat. Soon, her puppies had grown up, and were placed for adoption. Tabu was placed for adoption as well. I tried so hard to convince people that she would come around and be a different dog once they earned her trust. It was hard to believe, when she stayed in the corner of her cage, head down, staring, sitting on her tail and shaking.

Eventually, it was spring. Tabu had been at the shelter for 4 months - a long time. Her time was nearing, she just wasn’t very adoptable. At the time, I was leaving my job due to school/homework demands and the stress and sadness of working with so many unwanted animals was becoming too much for me. I had seen many happy endings, but I had also seen many tough ones as well. There were too many animals and not enough homes. So many animals were coming in and getting sick, because all of a sudden they were in a stressful environment around so many other animals.

There were a lot of tears involved and then, “can we just have her for the weekend to see if it could work?” My mom’s heart is just too big, we couldn’t send her back. My Dad agreed, probably because his daughter was so upset about this dog that was likely going to be euthanized. Tabu just looked so happy perched on the front step, her nose in the air. It was a big deal in our family when Tabu’s tail was up. My Dad even walked her and she would be happy and carefree. It took years before he could come up the stairs with his briefcase in his hand without scaring her. He built her a pen and a “to spec” insulated dog house. That was the deal; she had to stay outside. She could come in on Christmas day. Well that didn’t last too long, soon she was part of the family. Her fur all over the house, her accidents (she was an outdoor dog for 4 years before we got her – so her house-training was at times non-existent), her deathly fear of thunderstorms.

She loved going for walks and hikes, running off-leash, playing with other dogs, running along the beach, lying around, and eating, all that typical dog stuff.

However, she posed many challenges in the 11 years that we had her. The day before we were supposed to adopt her, she escaped the SPCA and was running loose on the Kingsway (a very busy road that is part highway near the old site of the shelter), she was caught and then went in for her spay surgery, where she started hemorrhaging and almost didn’t make it. She was so afraid of thunderstorms, that the whole thunder-storm season was very tough. During a storm, she’d be up all night, panting, shaking, pacing. Tabu sure did a lot of pacing in her life. She tore apart a mattress once during a storm. Her soiling would last for months after some bad storms. She’d develop separation anxiety that would take months and multiple strategies to shake. She started bolting when off-leash, and attacking dogs she didn’t know. She did have a little circle of friends that she could run loose with and play with.

Nonetheless, when stressors and causes of her anxiety weren’t present, she was a wonderful dog. She was mellow, relaxed, quiet, and gentle. She’d follow my mom or me around. She rarely barked her whole life, but she would do a great howl when really happy, and kneel up on her back legs, with her paws in the air. She always seemed so grateful, and she’d stare right in your eyes with pure trust - once it was earned.

I’ll be forever grateful for all that my mom did for her. I went away to school, and of course left the dog with my parents. It was supposed to be my dog, but she took the responsibility. I came home, bought a house, and took Tabu back. We had her for almost 3 years and she got along great with the cats. Then I had my first baby and we had those awful moments where I’d be standing there holding my screaming, colicky newborn and Tabu would be covered in poop from her latest anxiety attack. But, we toughed it out. However, over time, other life circumstances made our household even more hectic for our nervous dog. As well, Anderson was 18 months and following Tabu around and she was stressed, so I’d keep her outside, but then she’d pace.

My mom rescued her again. She gave her a peaceful home, where her needs were better met. She gave her the best, in her final year; the year that she aged. Tabu was remarkable in how she kept her youth for so long. At 10, 11, 12 years, people would still mistake her for a puppy. But in that last year, it all caught up to her. We made the decision on Friday, September 17th. I stayed at my parents place, my mom made her scrambled eggs with cheese, I took her for a last short walk that morning. I held her chin as she got drowsy from the sedative, she was so relaxed, which was nice for a dog who spent so much of her life so anxious. One of my past co-workers now works at the veterinary clinic. She was there too. It was nice to say goodbye to a dog that had lived her life. We could have been in a room like that 11 years earlier, but we weren’t.

It is hard to say goodbye. But I was sadder for what was gone, for what Tabu was before age took over her body and mind. She was at the end and we couldn’t get her back. I will always have the memories and the lessons learned from sharing in her life.

I went back to the waiting room with her collar in my hand. I said to my mom “Thank-you for taking such good care of her”, but really I should have said “Thank-you for loving her”.

{this moment} sept 17

Sometimes little or no words is better. Her life was simple, special and her story was at times extraordinary. This morning I paused, savoured and remembered. {Her story to follow at a later date...}

quoting Soulemama {this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Rocking Chair

Anderson at 2 years, myself at 2 years, Maeva at 8 months

dressing up the dresser

I got these great decals at Homesense. I love the little woodland creatures, they are so cute. This dresser was my cousin Heather's when she was little. If she needs it back one day, I'm guessing she won't mind the owls and bunnies. If not, they easily peel off. My little peanuts are now sharing a room, so far it is working out pretty well. I love listening to them sing and talk as they fall asleep. Some days it is crying in surround sound though.

The rocking chair was mine as a child, and so was the baby scale. I'm glad my parents never got rid of anything and moved that stuff from their first home to three different homes after that. Finally, it is back in use.

example #1

Here it is, one of my grains being used. Aztec blend: wild rice, brown rice, split peas and amaranth. I mixed in some left over bbq'd corn, butter, salt, pepper and garam masala spice. Which is my new favourite spice for fall cooking...it just tastes like fall should taste.

Also, I'm kind of thinking of eating vegetarian more nights of the week. Biggest reason being, I'm too disorganized to have fresh meat in the fridge, or the planning ability to thaw out some from the freezer. It's usually...hmmm...we're hungry...what should we make? Mind you, that squash took a damn long time to cook. And there are lots of good reasons to eat less meat, environmental, health wise, and financially. We were nice and full after this, we didn't do any evening snacking after this dinner.

grains, nuts and seeds

A recent trip to Bulk Barn got us some great fall foods. The mason jars were John's idea. I always leave them all in bags in a big pile and then nothing actually gets eaten. I think the idea stemmed from John's belief that we have too many mason jars (that are never even used). You can never have too many mason jars, you never know when you'll need one. I think our fall project of decluttering and cleaning room by room isn't going to go so smoothly. I want the results of decluttering, without having to actually get rid of anything. Good news is, the nuts, seeds and grains are being used up now. And that pile of bags did result in some curry infused pecans (because they were right beside eachother), and I noticed that my spelt had an interesting spiciness to it.

farm museum

Some views from inside the farm house museum. Look at the picnic table out the window, below is Anderson trying to climb it last fall. He'll have no trouble climbing it this year, after all that practice while camping...and being taller helps too. Also, I loved these books in the sewing room display.

fall fair

honey, why don't we go to homesense?

...and that's my husband talking. Isn't that what we'd all like to hear on a Friday evening? I found these two little critters there, and I couldn't resist. Perfect for breakfast on an autumn Saturday morning, before heading out to our local fall fair. We both love fall so much. It is when we started dating, got engaged, got married, moved in together for the first time, and moved into our first home. A great season indeed.

morning

Don't get me wrong, the baby has had her share of jarred food and instant baby cereal. But some mornings we all have the right amount of patience, the right amount of groceries, and the right amount of sleep, so that this can happen. There is a cold going around here, so it is a good thing everything lined up this morning, because this is the perfect breakfast for this sick bunch. I have a mini food-processor, so that a little serving can be made without it feeling like a big production. Anderson was so excited to try a bit of all the fruit we bought yesterday. He loves fruit only second to ice cream, and maybe dried cranberries. Anderson and I had our fruit on this platter, but Maeva had hers cooked.