Up Schitts Creek- But Rallying On to Kenora

How does one spend a particularly dismal couple of days?  I could be lamenting about the rain followed by a snow storm and my slushy, soupy driveway turned ice rink OR I could reflect on the journey to our third Rally Competition of the Year.  I chose the latter.  

As I have aged I have found it increasingly harder to balance my committments.  Have you encountered this too???  Has it always been this way and I was just oblivious?  Or maybe I have just blindly added to my list of obligations over the years with little regard to time management.  Anyhoo, for 2024 I had a lofty goal of attending as many Rally Competitions as I could; as long as the competitions had minimal impact on my work schedule, my ability to farm sit on the weekends and did not eat up all my vacation time, so that I still had time to visit with the family.  

Looking at the Rally event schedule I figured out there were exactly two weeks between the Kenora and Portage Dog Shows.   Hmm, in three weeks I could attend two competitions and fit in a visit with family and friends.  Sign me UP!  

As I registered for both competitions I may or may not have had a small panic attack when I realized how much the fees were going to set me back… did I mention dog shows are not for the faint of heart… and do you know of anyone who would be interested in being a corporate sponsor? 

Up until then the Ladies were only eligible to compete in one level at a time, but now they have graduated to the big leagues and could compete in both Advanced and Excellent at Kenora and Advanced, Excellent and Masters in Manitoba.  Well you can imagine how fast the entry fees rack up with you have three dogs running 3-4 trials per level per dog.  EXPENSIVE… even with the multi-run discounts. 

I had the option to travel right through to Kenora, same day, or to break up the trip.   I decided to spend one night at Pukaskwa for a well deserved night of camping.  I must admit it wasn’t the competition or the thought of seeing family that got me through the weeks of work prior to vacation, it was the thought of reconvening with nature, that had my cup running over with excitement.  As I drove that morning, I found myself randomly squealing “EEEEEEeeeeeee!”… every 30-45 minutes.  The frequency increased the closer we got to the campground.  I was even more delighted when we managed to snag my all time favourite campsite.   

It had been raining off and on for the 5 hour drive to Pukaskwa.   Luck was on my side and the sky’s cleared up as we pulled into the campground and registered for the eventing. With the Herd staked out on tie out ropes, I set up the tent and unpacked everything we would need for the night.  That done, it was time to explore. 

Before they decided to play Tie Out Twister

The plan was to go for a short hike down to the shores of Superior where we could look at the interesting pieces of driftwood that the Lake had deposited on the beach.  Nature had other thoughts.  We had just started down the trail to the beach when the skies opened up and it poured down upon us.  

NUTS!

I had left my rain jacket at the campsite and I really didn’t feel like spending the night with soaking wet dogs.  We weren’t far from a comfort station and I decided we would make a dash for it.  What I didn’t plan for was my foot landing weird when coming down a small hill.  The weird landing in combination with three dogs pulling on the leash resulted in a pop in the knee and excruciating pain.  I pushed the pain aside and hobbled triple speed to keep up with the dogs, who seemed to be equally intent to get out of the rain.  

We made it to the comfort station only to find out it was locked.  Thank-goodness for an overhang that we could huddle under waiting for the rain to lighten up.  The storm lasted no longer than 10 minutes, but it felt agonizingly longer as I couldn’t put weight on my left leg without pain shooting down to my toes and up into my hip.  Eventually the rain lightened and we slowly made our way back to campsite.  The dogs exuberantly bouncing about in the puddles and me swearing under my breath and growling at them to knock if off, as each jostle of a leash brought on a new wave of pain.  

Hiking was now out of the question, so I decided the next best thing was stretching out on the King Mondo air mattress to chill and read a good book.  I read, Ferg slept and the Ladies kept guard.  I had a moment of panic when a bunny decided to hang out at the entrance to the tent.  I don’t think it knew it was taunting death, sitting where it was sitting.  There was only a thin layer of mesh separating it, from three big dogs, one of which has shown an extreme interest in chasing down rabbits.  Luck for the rabbit the Ladies held it together and Ferg slept through it all.  It seems sleeping for 5-6 hours while someone else is driving can be tres exhausting!

Waiting for a break in the rain

What is that???

Travel can be soooo exhausting!

Mum, the Bunny is looking at us!

Ummmm nature!

Where is our supper? PS you have some ropes to untangle. Tee Hee!

We were up early the next morning to pack-up and head the rest of the way to Kenora. It’s a good thing I gave myself extra time to pack-up, as I had to figure out how to solve the Tie Out Tetris puzzle the dogs had created while I was packing up.  Ropes untangled.. swears kept to a minimum,  we were on the road.  

There was a quick stop in Terrace Bay for gas and a chance for us all to tap a kidney before we were on the road again.  Around Kakabeka Falls  I needed another pee break.  I typically “air” the dogs when I stop,  but this time I decided against it.  I don’t know why.  Maybe it was the thought of trying to manage all three dogs with a sore knee, while another dog was also out being aired OR I was trying to save time as they had already had a break a few hours before.  Whatever the reason it was a decision that I would regret in a few more hours. 

We were travelling down the highway and I ended up behind a semi carrying a load of livestock.  It was fragrant and I was biding my time until I could pass it and get out of the cloud of funk.  I passed the semi but the cloud of funk didn’t dissipate, in fact it was getting stronger.  I glanced over my shoulder at the three in the back and commented “That better be gas… ha ha!”.  It had to be in my imagination right?  The smell started to fade away… it was totally my mind and nose playing tricks with me.  Then all of a sudden it came back more pungent than ever!  What in H E double hockey sticks was going on?  I saw a side road and pulled over.  The smell was getting stronger.  Please tell me what I think happened, did not happen???

I open the back door and my nostrils and eyes confirmed that my worst fear was actualized.  Lyndy had a diarrhea accident in the back.  Ferg was huddled in the corner traumatized.  Lyndy looked chargrined and was trying to escape from her oops.  Meanwhile Hazel was dancing about… in and out of the diarrhea spill zone, excited to see where we were and what was up next on the docket.  I clipped leashes on all three and got them out of the vehicle to further survey the damage.  There were two main liquid poo piles on the mat,  but tails and paws had managed to paint poo on the door, back of the seat, etc.  As I turned around my rage scream lodged in my throat as I finally got a good look at Hazel.  My normally white dog was splotched with diarrhea brown.  

Christ all mighty she had laid down in it.  That explained why the smell had started to reduce for a short period in time, she was smoothering it with her body.  

Lovely! 

There was no way I can show up to a hotel with poo encrusted dog??? Not to mention there was no way I could compete with her poo stained self.  What could I do?

That is how I ended up deep cleaning the back of a truck and bathing a dog on the side of the highway,  while also holding onto and trying to control two other dogs. I thanked my lucky stars that I had to foresight to pack extra paper towel and garbage bags. I removed as much fecal matter as possible from the mat before rolling it up and depositing it into the box of the truck.  That would need to be a problem to solve on another day. 

Once everything was cleaned and sanitized to the best of my ability, we were back on the road again.  I did have a moment of  worry that history repeated itself when we caught up to the livestock truck in Dryden.  But the funk quickly disappeared when we passed.  Thankfully Lyndy lived up to her promise to keep all remaining poop in her body until we made it to Kenora.

The next snag in the plan was I couldn’t remember the name of the hotel that I had booked and I couldn’t find the email with the confirmation.   There I sat in the Tim’s parking lot looking at the list of Kenora hotels hoping that something would flag my memory.  It didn’t help.  I was drawing a blank.  Luckily my sister had recommended this particular hotel, as she had stayed there for work.  One text later, I Google mapped my way from the Tim’s parking lot to the hotel. 

WE HAD ARRIVED!

Nature’s Inn turned out to be the home away for home that we needed for the weekend.  The staff were friendly, the room was large enough to fit all the crates and still have room to walk around.  There was even a small table and chairs to use for meals.  The other bonus was it was close to the venue. 

Once unpacked we went for a short walk to unwind and coax more poo out of Lyndy.  My knee ached as I walked and there was intermittent sharp pains.    I wondered what the next day would be like, but hoped that Aleve would work its magic and get me through the evening and weekend.  

The next morning had both Lyndy and I popping Pepto.  Me for my nervous stomach, her to ensure there were no Hershey squirts in the ring.  I arrived early to set up and had a momentary panic when it did not look like there would be space on the floor of the arena to crate the dogs.  The only other alternative was to crate them on the upper mezzanine which would mean doing + + stairs, something that would be difficult to do quickly and ad nauseam with an injured knee.  But in true Rally fashion some of the competitors moved over so that I could tuck in my three crates.  

At the beginning of our Rally season we had been competing with the top three Rally teams in Canada.  Kenora introduced us the Teams ranked 4th and 5th.    Both dogs were owned by the same person and she and her two lab mix’s had an amazing weekend with perfect scores on most of their runs.  Man it is something else to watch a flawless run, let alone multiple flawless back to back runs.  Very impressive!!!  The Kenora club also did something that I had never seen before.  They presented High in Trial rosettes to the teams with the highest aggregate score over each trial run. This is something that tends to be offered in formal Obedience but this was the first time I had encountered it being offered for Rally.  Needless to say the Lab Mix teams went home with a plethora of well deserved rosettes!

On Day 1 Ferg managed to earn two legs in Masters, despite the handi-cap of having me as partner and finished off his Master’s title.  He would have had higher scores, if I had not continued to mess up signs. Duoh!!!

Hazel was all over the map on her runs. Sometimes she was ultra focused on me, other times she noticed everything around her.   At one point she got overly excited by the Shepherds running in the conformation ring that was adjacent to ours.  There was a moment where I thought she was going to jump the barrier to go and join them, as she really, really , really wanted to run vs having to do boring things like sitting, standing and backing up.  Thank goodness she managed to hold it together and she earned one leg toward her RAE title. 

Lyndy was lack luster in her performance on both runs.  There was a dog and a half between us when heeling (almost like she didn’t want to be seen with me😆) and she would follow through on commands but at her own pace.   Even though it wasn’t her best work she did manage to make it through all 4 runs with no poo accidents in the ring and with qualifying scores in both her Advanced and Excellent runs for two legs toward her RAE title.

Is that a human or elephant knee?

I wish I could say that my knee also held out, but it didn’t.  Sadly, Aleve was not enough to combat the hell of prolonged walking and pivoting on an injured limb.   By the end of the day I was walking like a pirate with a peg leg, complete with a grimace with each step.  I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and put my leg up.  It wasn’t until I got back to the hotel and surveyed the damage that I realized me knee wasn’t just a little hurt it was FUBAR!  It had ballooned up to double its normal size, with swelling in my calf and up into the thigh.  In a desperate attempt to reduce the swelling I started a contrast bath for my leg, sitting in hot water for a few minutes and then as cold as I could stand it water for a few minutes. Repeat, repeat, repeat.  It helped a little, as did the Tylenol and second Aleve, but I still had difficulty walking.  Thank goodness I conveniently had not removed the cane from the back seat of the truck after my last round of dislocating fibula.  Procrastination for the win!  

As I didn’t have it in me to go out for food I ordered in from Spice N Nice Indian Food Hub.  Man was I impressed with their butter chicken.  It was hands down the best butter chicken that I have ever had.  I would highly recommend this restaurant if you are ever in Kenora.  

Spice N Nice… Yummmmmm!

Lyndy took advantage of my impaired mobility to try and claim the bed.  She knows full well that I don’t allow dogs on the bed in hotels but that doesn’t stop her from trying her luck.  I guess she thought I would relent as she was also feeling under the weather, but it doesn’t work that way.  She was banished right after I snapped this shot.

Nice try… OFF THE BED!

Despite the contrast bath, anti-inflammatories and sleeping with my leg elevated on pillows, my knee was still double its size the next morning.  Now a sane person might have just taken it as a sign that was time to go home to be loved up by my Mom, but I am not a sane person, I am cheap, determined Mother Fudger and there was no way I was going to forfeit all that money and not compete.  Tylenol, and Aleve were added to my Pepto cocktail and cane in hand I loaded the Herd into the truck for our final day of competition.  It didn’t take me long to realize that the only way I was going to make it through the day was to use the cane.  I brought it into the ring for Ferg’s first Master’s run, but quickly realized that although it aided my mobility it caused the dogs to panic and mess up the signs.  I quickly compromised and used the cane to get to and from the ring but would leave it on the chair with the leash while we ran the course. 

The second day of competition proved to be Hazel’s day.  She managed to get two more legs toward her RAE title, even with some jumping, running and hopping around the ring.  One of the judges commented “I know she has been naughty in the ring, but I just love her personality!”.  That sums Hazel up very succinctly… naughty but lovely!

Lyndy and Ferg both petered out by the last run.  Neither qualifying for their Advanced, Excellent and in Ferg’s case Master’s run.  Ferg became progressively slower with each run, to the point where I think he was walking backward in the final run of the event.  Even with this set-back, Ferg still managed to earn enough points to become the #1 Golden in Canada after that weekend.  It was short lived… but it happened🙌🎆.

I tell you, you have not lived until you try to load three dogs, three crates and all the accoutrement’s that go with dog shows into a vehicle while needing a cane to help with mobility.  It was trying, but I managed to get it done.  It was a quiet ride to my parents.  The dogs were conked out and did not stir until we pulled up in the driveway.  Even at that they barely lifted their heads from their slumber, but life was breathed back into them when they heard Grandma’s voice.  We had made it and were…

HOME FOR A REST! (As if!!!)

I’d like to shout out to the:

• Kenora & District Dog Club for providing a fantastic venue for the competition. 
• The Ring Stewards and Organizers for all their hard work and assistance.  Without you we would not have a show to compete at!
• The other competitors for their words of wisdom and for cheering us on and
• The Judges Mary Monteith and Diana MacKenzie for their well thought out and challenging courses. 

Dogs with Jobs

I am a week into my annual retreat from the daily grind of life.  I tend to take this time to get a head start on typical New Year’s Resolutions like healthy living and this year is no exception.  After spending most of the year dealing with dislocating bones I have finally made my triumphant return to morning yoga and meditation (Chuckle of the day: Spell check changed meditation to medication… which is ironic as that is how my mornings have started for at least the last six months,,, thank-you makers of Tylenol). 

I love the 10-15 minute yoga clips that Yoga with Kassandra produces on YouTube.  As it has been over 8 months since I last did one of her video’s I totally forgot about her encouragement to set an intention for the upcoming day… something that I hoped to encounter or embody.  My word for today is joy and what brings me joy… 

DOGS! Especially puppies!!!!

GoldenPride Norah X George Litter

During Covid I started fostering a Mom for GoldenPride Kennels.  It was the best decision of my life.  Not only did I get to expand the herd by one, I also secured unlimited access to puppies.  

GoldenPride Whisper X Nigel Litter

GoldenPride Whisper X Sebastian Litter

Puppy Snuggles!!!!

The disadvantage of this arrangement is there are points in time when the Mom is away from home and the house feels empty.  However, I have found a coping mechanism to get me through it all… I choose to look at it as the Mom is away on a business trip and we get to meet up at least once a week at Disneyland aka the whelping box to debrief on how our week went.  I complain about work, the amount of snow I have had to shovel and lack of time to partake in all my preferred extracurriculars and she laments about the pain of birthing a litter, sore nipples, how tired she is and how it is all worth it for unlimited access to food.  At the end of the visit we part ways vowing to meet up again and hoping for the best for each other in the week to come. 

My fostering of the one Mom led to fostering of three more future Mom’s, and recently one of the future Mom’s became a Mom.  Yup, Lyndy is now a Mummy!  I will admit I was nervous about how she would take to motherhood, as she tends to be a little persnickety about change and she is not as open to meeting other dogs as the rest of the herd is.  Over the last two years she has tolerated having various puppies in the house, but she doesn’t actively follow them around and engage with them like Hazel and Wee.  I spent the whole of her pregnancy hoping for the best and trying to guess how many puppies were bipping and bopping in her belly.

She was due Nov 20/21st and the hope was that she would hold off until the weekend to have her puppies.  Well that was the Breeder’s hope.  I on the other hand couldn’t wait for her to head to the farm for her lying-in period, as she was up every hour to two hours each night needing outside to use the washroom.  Maybe it was my anxiety about work or her impending motherhood, but once up, it was hard for me to get back to sleep and in a 48 hr period I was lucky if I accrued a grand total of 6 hours of sleep.

Well Lyndy decided to extend my sleepless purgatory. The night of Nov 20th she was restless the entire evening, panting so hard at times the entire bed shook… not conducive to sleeping.  I couldn’t handle it and got up to create a “den” for her in the smallest most zen like room in the house.  She initially settled, but about an hour later she was up vomiting and then had a poo accident.  It became apparent that I was not going to get much sleep so I let her come back to the bed.  

As she made herself comfortable in the blankets she stuck her nose up in the air and made a noise that was part belch and part grunt.  After the second one I started wondering if it was gas or a contraction.  I was humming and hawing about calling the Breeder when I just happened to place my hand on her stomach as she did it again.  

Just the cutest dang Contraction Face!

DEFINITELY A CONTRACTION!

CRAP!!!!

Why had I not prepared the back of the truck for this? What if she started birthing while I was driving out to the Farm??? I threw extra absorbent mats and towels down on the floor of the truck, loaded Lyndy in and started driving like a wailing Banshee to the Farm.  It did not help that a torrential rain storm was happening at the same time.  I got to the turn off for the highway and there was a Police car parked waiting to catch speeders.  I momentarily considered pulling over and asking for a Police escort, but decided that most likely would be a waste of time,  so  I slowed it down, at least until I rounded the corner, and was out of radar range.

Truthfully I couldn’t go to much over the speed limit as the standing water on the highway made it hard not to hydroplane when travelling more than 10 km over the speed limit.  I went with the safer option of taking it slower and arriving alive vs having Lyndy giving birth in a car wreck on the edge of the highway.  

I interrupt this regularly scheduled blog to play a little game.  Here is a picture of Lyndy 5 days before her due date.  How many puppies do you think are baking in her belly?

Bonus points if you can guess the final count of boys and girls

We arrived at the Farm around 2:45 am.  Although the rational part of my brain was telling me to drop her off and head home to get some sleep; the emotional part couldn’t leave her angsty and unsure as to what was going on, so I settled into a comfortable position in the whelping box and the waiting game began.  

Lyndy was in a semi-crouched position when the first one shot out around 3:30 am. The look on her face was priceless when she turned around to see what happened and spotted the baby.  She didn’t know what had come out of her back end, but it definitely wasn’t poo.  She started warming up to the puppy, as I cleaned and interacted with it and it wasn’t long before she was licking and nuzzling her (in case you are playing the game… I’m giving you a freebie here!). 

A little while after the second puppy arrived I took Lyndy outside for a washroom break.  Unfortunately I was a little too slow getting my shoes on and she had a Hershey squirt accident in the house.  Sorry J!  We headed outside just in case there was more in the tank and there was.  

Picture it, I’m standing out in the pouring rain holding a washcloth and a flashlight that is trained on Lyndy’s backend in case a puppy shoot out instead of poo, when I notice something long and green hanging down from her back end.  What was it?  I definitely knew it wasn’t a puppy.  Could it be a placenta??  Highly unlikely as she had already delivered the placenta’s with the first two puppies.  I knew this as I had to squelch my gag reflex while watching her attempt to scarf down each placenta.  She would start chewing and trying to swallow the placenta but as it reached the back of her throat she objected to the texture and it would start coming back up.  A scene that is not for the faint of heart nor for those that are easily grossed out.  Eventually we gave up on Lyndy being able to eat the placenta and bite through the cord and we had to cut the cord and discard the mangled placentas in the garbage.

Okay not placenta… what could it be?  Curiosity got the better of me and I gingerly took a hold of the end  and gave a gentle tug. It started to move.  I pulled some more…  more came out.  I pulled and pulled and pulled and it just kept coming.   

What in H E double hockey sticks is this????

It wasn’t until the entire length came out that I realized what I had been pulling out of her was the end of a roll of poo bags.  

Yup!  

The yahoo ate poo bags!  Maybe it was a misguided attempt to pre-package the poo to reduce my clean up, but her experiment did not work and thank the Good Lord she didn’t end up with another obstruction.   Yes, this is not her first trip to the I ate weird stuff rodeo.  In fact she has earned a long scar for her ability to eat and not pass weird stuff.  I tossed the three bags on the grass and we headed back in for Round 2. 

By the time we made it back inside the two littles were squawking up a storm.  They missed their Mom and man were they hungry.  Lyndy didn’t appreciate being greeted with mewling and refused to get close to them, let alone lie back down.  Gentle coaxing couldn’t entice her to leave the safety of behind my back.  We eventually resorted to lifting her over to the puppies, as she vehemently refused to go on her own.  As soon as the puppies settled on teats she was back to thinking these little beings weren’t so bad.  The night progressed with a puppy every 30- 45 minutes until the last one made an arrival at 7:30 a.m.  

There is something to say about formal obedience training!  Right after she had her first one I told her she had to be done by 7:30 so I had enough time get home and get to work.  I love that she took my suggestion to heart.  I stayed with her until I knew she wouldn’t miss me and then I was in the truck, rushing back to town for a Mickey Dee’s breakfast, a change of clothes and then it was off to work for the day.  

There were doubters that I could put in a full day of work on zero hours sleep, but little did they know I have had years of training thanks to chronic bouts of insomnia and summers working nights to pay for school.  I was 100% alert and lucid while assessing and observing.  The one thing that I couldn’t do was chart.  As soon as I started typing out notes I felt my eyelids drooping and my head nodding.  More than once I know I drifted into a one second nap right in the middle of typing.  Re-reading what I had typed, I realized that there was a huge risk that any notes made that day wouldn’t make sense, so I decided to fore go typing and relied on taking detailed handwritten notes, as handwriting didn’t have the same effect of lulling me into slumber.  I finished off my day and it was home for a rest, but not before checking in to see how Lyndy was doing.  

It seems all my angst about her ability to adapt to motherhood was misplaced.  She and the little litlle’s were all doing well.  Secure in the knowledge that she was embracing her new job, I head to bed for some much earned rest and puppy dreams!

We have reached the end.   Do you have your guess as to the number of puppies and how many of each locked in?  If not, I will give you another second or two to make your choice.

FROM THIS

Little Lyndy

TO THIS…. THE GRAND UNVEIL!!!

The “Hart”land Litter (GoldenPride Lyndy X Tyco Litter)

Bonus Points if you guessed 9!

As Lyndy was named after one of the characters from Heartland, the quintessential Canadian Horse Woman show and the Breeder’s last name is Hart it seemed fitting to name the puppies after Heartland characters.  Here is the break down of who is who:

Pink Collar: Amy 

Purple Collar: Lou

Blue Collar: Ty

Yellow Collar: Katie

Orange Collar: Georgie

Red Collar: Jack

Dark Green Collar: Mallory

Light Green Collar: Jade

Black Collar: Caleb

6 Girls and 3 Boys.  

The puppies are now three weeks old and are up starting to move around and their eyes are open.  Lyndy  is going to be one busy dog over the next five weeks and Grandma is going to be one happy camper!

THE END

Tiny Mallory toes!

There Was Something In the Air… Outdoor Rally Competitions

I’m very behind in my blogging and am using this opportunity to catch up.  The plan had been to blog right after each Rally trial but that didn’t happen.  So now you will get the highlights that I can remember, as we attended a number of shows over the month of June 2024.  The Muskoka trial kick started my trial bug and I was hankering for another fix.  The plan was to maximize the number of trials we entered but try and keep the driving distance under 6 hours.  The Powassan trial seemed to fit the bill… less than 6 hours away, 4 runs to maximize our chances of titling.  The only thing that I missed was the large bold letters OUTDOOR TRIAL!.

Little did I know at that time of entry, that my distrust of on-line banking would cause such havoc and lead to some mega stress.  The listing for the trial indicated that it would be a small show with a limited  first come first serve entry.  Even though registration had only been open a few days the organizer informed me they were close to capacity and if I wanted to attend I needed to get my entries and payment in quickly.  

The problem was I don’t have e-transfer capability and I had run out of cheques. 

What to do?

Some quick research gave me a glimmer of hope.  I could send a money order from Canada Post.  If I sent it Express post it would be there in 1-2 days, hopefully in enough time to secure spots for Ferg and the Ladies.  Everything was squared away the next day by 12:30 pm.   I was feeling pretty proud of myself and my quick thinking.  Look at me, both solving my problem and helping out Canada Post (which had just announced business model issues the day before).   Using the tracking number I started following the package’s progress across the province.  

It left the city the afternoon of Day one.  Off to a fantastic start. 

Day 2 it arrived in Toronto.  Whoot! Whoot!  Not long until our registration would be finalized.

Day 3 there was a delay.  No need to panic.

Day 4 it had travelled from Toronto to Barrie.

Day 5- Unexpected delays, no estimated time for delivery, could not locate current location.  Phoned the contact line,  could not get through.  Tried social media account and was told that was only answered on weekdays.  Tried the chat bot… it wouldn’t/couln’t answer my questions.  Frustration was mounting, along with my anxiety that we would miss out on being able to register for the trial.   I tried the Canada Post phone line again and eventually got a customer service rep who confirmed the package was in the system, not to worry, it would be on its way.  I expressed my concerns that I paid a premium to have the package delivered in 1-2 days and we were now on Day 5.  I mentioned that the odds were high that the envelope would have arrived faster sending it with just a stamp and was told… had I sent it by stamp there wouldn’t have been the ability to track it.  

Day 6- Still unexpected delays with no estimated time for delivery.  Are you kidding me!!!!!  I had checked on the status so many times over the last six days, I had the 10 digit tracking code memorized. 

Day 7-  Still no movement.  I tried to fill in the on-line form that would start an official inquiry process, but it would not accept the address that the package was sent to.  I ended up phoning the number to cancel the money order, as the new plan was to have one of my friends, who has faith in on-line banking, send the e-transfer for me.  I about lost it when I was told that I would have to wait 40 days before I could cancel the money order and be reimbursed… Canada Post had to make sure that it had not been delivered first.  I pointed out that we knew it had not been delivered yet, as it spent the weekend somewhere between Barrie and Toronto.  The Rep checked into it and quickly identified that the issue was a “looping error”.    One of the most frustrating questions that customer service reps kept asking was… “When does it need to be at the destination?”  My response was last week Thursday… which was why I chose to send it Express. 

In the end, the envelope had to be manually pulled from the system or it most likely would still be shuttling back and forth between Barrie and Toronto.  By the next day it had arrived a full week after it had been posted.  I had been promised by the Supervisior that I spoke with, that I would have official answers to what went wrong and reimbursement within a week of my call. Answers and reimbursement never happened, but in fairness I got busy and never followed up myself.

Registration secured I started doubling down  on the training to get the dogs ready to compete outside.  We trained in the yard, the park, the farm.  It became apparent pretty fast that Hazel would be the one to struggle the most at the trial, as she was thrown by the wind, birds, grass smells etc.  I had to break out the cheese reinforcement to even get her to look in my general direction when any of the aforementioned distractions were present.  

The other thing that became a concern was all three “forgot” how to go over a jump.  What was the issue… they are used to jumping inside…. Outside jumping???  We can jump outside????  Thankfully I discovered this two days before we left for the show.  Ferg and Lyndy adapted the fastest…. Hazel went over 1 out of 5 times, if I was lucky. 

According to the internet Powassan, didn’t have any dog friendly hotels,  so we ended up booking a hotel in North Bay.  The plan was to leave around noon, get there around 5 pm, settle in, go for a walk and just relax.  It turns out that I am the Queen of Wishful Thinking.  Noon rolled around and I wasn’t even remotely ready, my schedule had been thrown off by multiple pee accidents by Brie.  She peed while I packed and then decided to flood her crate while I went to pick-up groceries for the trip.  Irritation was running high by the time I loaded all five in the truck at 2:00.  

I hurdled down the highway, with a quick stop to drop off Wee and Brie at the farm.  Luckily traffic was light on the highway and we were able to make up some time; rolling into the hotel parking lot around 7pm.  

30 minutes later I was out in the parking lot trying to convince the dogs to eliminate both bowel and bladder when I heard my name.  I look up and see my friend and her husband over in the parking lot.  What are the odds that her child would have a soccer tournament in North Bay the same time I had a dog trial and we both decided to stay at the same hotel? We had a quick chat that was cut short by the dog’s perpetual need to wrap the leashes around my legs and then try to leap up on K&J.   My crankiness factor indicated that an early bed time was required. 

I must say the hotel room was roomy and deluxe.  It easily accommodated the three crates, three dogs and myself.  The only thing that would have made it better was if the room was on the main floor vs second floor.  It is hard to manage flights of stairs, three dogs and three crates at the same time.  I will also say that North Bay and the surrounding area is very picturesque and there was lots going on.  It definitely would be a great place to go and explore when I have a little more time.

The Super 8 in North Bay is 3 out of 3 Golden approved!

The drive down to Powassan went smoothly the next morning and before I knew it we were set up and checked-in for the trials.  Ferg was first up in Master’s.  The outdoor format and having people so close to the entry blew his mind.  The Judge had just finished asking “Are you ready?”.  I was in the process of saying “Yes”, when Ferg looked over his shoulder and took off out of the ring to jump into the lap of one of the ring stewards.  The Judge took pity on me and let me repeat X 2, each time resulting in Ferg bolting from the ring.  On the final attempt I took it upon myself to say “We are ready!” Before the judge even asked.  Well dear reader, it doesn’t work that way… you have to wait for the Judge to ask.  The fourth time ended up being the charm and we made it past the first few signs before Ferg decided to make a break for the exit after taking the jump.  Can’t blame him it was lined up perfectly with the exit and there were “adoring fans” waiting for him. 

Running out of sleeve space for Competition #’s

The Ladies also struggled with the outdoor venue.  There was grass to smell, something in the bush across the road (never figured out what it was), the heat and limited shade to contend with.  I chalked Day One up as a figuring out day.  I learned Ferg had to sit on an angle facing away from the exit if I wanted any hope that he would remain in the ring.  I really needed a refresher course in lefts and rights as I kept doing Master signs backward and I really needed to invest in shade cover and another battery powered fan before our next outdoor show.  

What I totally love is how quiet life is after Day One of a trial.  The herd is usually sleeping before we even make it to the highway and they rouse long enough to have a pee break before couching out again once we get to the hotel room.  

Post show crash and burn

What was the end result you ask?

Ferg qualified in all his Advanced and Excellent runs which helped him work toward his RAE title.  By some miracle he also managed to earn two high in trials for two out of his 12 runs.  Whoot Whoot!.   This accomplishment tempered the disappointment of only qualifying for one out of four of his Master’s runs.

Lyndy worked hard and managed to earn her Excellent title and one high in trial for one of her 8 runs. 

Hazel also managed to earn her Excellent title but the toys in the ring proved to be too much for her.  She would take the jumps and then bee-line for the toys. Ripping around the ring as soon as she “captured” the contraband.  It would have been amusing to watch… but the humour of it all was lost on me while in the ring.  

We definitely found out that all three need more time training outdoors and around lots of distractions. 

The Herd and I would like to shout out to EPS Training Associates for their patience and understanding with the delay in getting payment to them and for hosting the event.  We also send a shoutout to the Judges Del Lunn and Susan Des Cotes for the challenging courses, the patience with Ferg’s Day One ring breaks and for the reminders to read the signs and brush up on lefts and rights before heading into the ring.😄 

The Ogre Years…

 I hate to admit it but I have seem to have entered the Ogre years of my life. That period of time between cute young thing and cute little old lady.  Now you might be asking how does one find out they have entered the dawn of Ogre times? 

The snow moat in it’s infancy

My epiphany was brought on by the scads and scads of snow that fell last weekend and continues to fall without an end in sight.  When I first moved into my house there was a multitude of men who would volunteer to help the “poor” young woman clear what the City sees fit to dump into my corner lot driveway.   It was like they were fighting over the opportunity to help me out.  A truck with a front end plow would be passing by and the driver would slow down, wave me aside and take a sweeping pass to push the bank out of the way.  Or my early rising neighbour, with a tractor, would push the offending snow out of the way while I slumbered. Or if I decided to have a slow start to my morning and no one else had moved the snow my other neighbour would  snow blow my driveway after he finished his. Nothing beat  waking-up fully prepared for snow removing duty only to glance out the window and see the snow had been moved.  I would do a little happy dance, change back into lounge pants and sit on my couch sipping a cup of tea or hot chocolate, delighting in the luxury of it all.  

During those years, I remember experiencing occasional bouts of irritation, as this assistance brought with it the implication that I lacked the physical strength and endurance to clear the driveway and windrows by myself.  However my parents didn’t raise a fool and my chagrin was quickly replaced with gratitude, as it meant that I could hit the ski or snowshoe trails earlier than I thought.  If I had known that it would all come to an end, I would have cherished those moments all the more.

Flash forward 20 years.  Now when the snow flies I am out there with the snow float, for hours at a time, clearing as much as I can before the next snow squall strikes.  My neighbours with snow blowers come out well after I have started, clear their driveways and head back in to the warmth of their houses.  The tractors from snow removal companies zip on by ad nauseam, taunting me with how fast they can clear a driveway… seriously they are done in the time it takes me to load and move three floats of snow.

As I load the bucket of the float with yet another load of wet slushy snow, I can almost picture the thought bubbles over the tractor operators heads  “Just think if you had a contract with us you could be watching us work from the comfort of your house, but now you must live with your frugal a$$ decision to clear snow on your own.  It sucks to be you!!!”  So while the rest of the world continues on with their lives, I am spending minute after minute and hour after hour hauling and dumping bucket after bucket of snow.  The banks have reached an all time high in the front and the back and the snow still comes.  I must admit I am more than a little nervous about running out of space to dump snow if we don’t get a break and continue to have record breaking snow fall until March.  

Yes Virginia, that is a double snow moat around my house.

Now one could assume that this reduction in people proffering to help with  shovelling is a direct result of a change in culture.  That people in the 2020’s  are less likely to help if there is nothing in it for them.  I would like to think that that’s what is happening, but for one glaring exception to this rule that I have witnessed on Day 2 and 3 of Snowmagedon!

See there is a small in stature, but larger than life, 78 year old Greek woman who lives down the street who has a double wide driveway that she clears by hand, when she is not showcasing her mad snowblower skills.  Seriously you should see her rock her snowblower, wearing her dark wrap around shades and beanie toque.  She is so tiny her body is hidden by the auger housing of the blower and all you see is a winter bedecked head floating between the handlebars when you are looking at her from head on.  My view from down the street is a solitary blue Pom Pom moving up and down the snow bank as she methodically makes pass after pass… Pong the Winter version!  But I digress.

Everyone was out trying to rid their walkways and driveways of the foot of snow that fell overnight.  I looked down the street to see Mrs C slowly making her way down her driveway with her snow float.  I vowed that I would head down that way to help her out once I was done clearing the end of my driveway, but the operator of the tractor that was hired to clear her neighbours driveway beat me to it.   He made quick business of the neighbour’s driveway and then waved Mrs. C out of the way and zip, zip, zip her driveway was done and he was bombing down the street toward my house.   I was tackling the 4 1/2 foot wall of snow, the plow left at the end of the my walkway.  As the tractor got closer I started anticipating the nod and wave aside, the thrill of watching the snow wall being obliterated in one fell swoop.   I could almost taste the chocolatey goodness of a steam cup of cocoa that I planned to make myself to celebrate.  The hum of the motor was getting closer and closer, my excitement level was building… Am I warmed up enough to do a happy dance without pulling a muscle??? The tractor started to slow down as it approached my location… I’m waiting for the wave off, only there isn’t one and the tractor doesn’t stop.  Instead it speeds around the corner to the next driveway on his list.  

This is what I was moving when he went by!

D frickin’ ied!!! 

I’m standing there dazed and confused.  This didn’t use to happen?  I can’t believe it… I lost my come hither remove my snow mojo!  To add insult to injury, my other neighbours come out and snow blow their driveways and return back into the comfort of their houses while I’m still chugging away at clearing mine.  All that was offered was some sage commentary that they shouted over their shoulders as they headed into their houses- “Try not to have a heart attack!”  In fact, I heard this same comment at least five times over the course of the two hours it took me to finish shovelling.   I guess that is all that an Ogre can hope for in life is to finish two hours of shovelling and still be alive to start the process again the next day.  

Well if you need me, you know where I will be… out in the driveway shovelling and taking many water breaks to minimize the risk that one of my neighbours will have to perform CPR on this tired ole’ Shrek’s carcass.  

PS.  I can’t have you thinking my neighbours are all cavalier about my health and well being.  Mrs. C, the bad a$$ Greek woman from down the block, using her snow float for balance, made it half way down the street to another set of neighbours asking them to relay a message to me, as she is too old to make it all the way to my place (her words not mine).  She wanted me to know that I could borrow her snow blower if I needed it, as she was worried about me.  Us single ladies need to stick together!

PSS.  I had to call my brother to find out what the front part of the snow blower is called… he laughed when I asked what the part was called that covered the whirly whirly bit that munched up the snow and moved it to the shootie out part.   Joke was on him as he didn’t know what it was called either.  Google supplied the word auger… boring!  

PSSS.  If anyone wants some white stuff for Christmas let me know.  I’m will to ship it to you 😶‍🌫️

An ice boulder left at the end of my walkway, trying to close the snow portal, but not quite big enough!