A Recent adventure

We had a great time.  It was a trial run with both dogs and a refitted trailer - new wheels - upsized to a 12 inch hub with fenders to accommodate, added trailer jack, and then of course a solar powered battery system to support the inside fans and any added DC plug ins. 

The dogs fit in quite nicely into the back of the wagon while pulling along my teardrop - took the quieter roads to Sandbanks - took about 6 hours from Guelph, then camped there for 3 nights.  It was beautiful weather though cool just before the long weekend in May.  Glad for the cooler nights - both dogs fit into the trailer with me and needed to throw off covers a few times - a bit on the warm side even with a window open.  Those fans will be useful come the summer.

I am deciding to leave Harnett behind as long as the neighbours, Elaine and family, can take him.  I would be selfish to bring him along knowing the distance and his age - plus with Molly it would be an accident waiting to happen.  Such different energy levels, and with both set to be wanderers I wouldn't be able to relax much on trails I don't know.  Holding both by leads would definitely be difficult on rocks.

So I will enjoy this Month with both of them locally - maybe take Harnett out canoeing :)

Some pics from our trip this past week.  You should see Molly swim!

Puppy explosion

I tried very hard to plan ahead for the road trip adventure 2016.  Thinking about the type of car I needed for the trip and the trailer I would buy to pull along. And then matching up the two - size weight, height, etc., and of course, budget.   And all the time looking for a second dog.  Why a second dog of all things?  Well Harnett, at 13 is going to be a big miss in the not too distant future, and so maybe another dog now, to help with my own transition, but also, just maybe, some of Harnett's wisdoms and great habits could be passed on.  Harnett would carry on in someway.  That of course meant two dogs traveling with me next summer - Harnett for the sake of having him with me for as much time as possible, and the new dog just because I'd have her by then too.

Yes a her, Molly.  I searched pretty hard during the summer, scanning websites, doing my usual visits to the local pound, reading adverts in local newsletters.  Nanna!  No puppies available in the middle of the summer except of course through puppy farms. Not so hot on puppy farms.  I did try signing up with a few rescue agencies advertising puppies of medium size (and so cute!!), submitted all my information, how I was a good owner with a friendly house mate already.  Friendly replies but always a decline with an encouraging message to keep on trying....  I suspected I had missed the prime puppy season in the spring.  That was confirmed after a friend and I drove up and down Mennonite country looking for the 'puppy for sale signs' that often showed up on the back roads.  None.  The owner of a small coffee shop enroute confirmed the futility of our search, and that we should try again next spring.
But I didn't want to wait until next spring.  I had committed myself to a second dog for the following year, and I needed a full grown 'well trained' pet by then, without the worry of house breaking etc. along the way.

Well there she was, finally - on kijji of all places.  The last pup from a litter of twelve - lab – border colie mix. There was her picture -   the short fur I liked (and so would my vacuum), but not so much the black - another story.  However she did have a striking white crest on her chest and the hints of white on the tips of her tail, feet and even around her nose.  I though of my first dog, patches when I was a child - I adored him.   All eleven of her sisters and brothers had been adopted out within a day of posting the add, so I was told by the woman on the phone.  Yes she would hold her for me but only for the afternoon.  Not much time to ponder - Harnett and I along with a crate for the pup, were in my car within an hour, driving out to Woodstock.

Harnett was with me to test out his behaviour with the pup.  All he did was sniff then ignore her.  With money exchanged, and some adjustment to a box I had brought making it into a cradle for the 5 lb pup, (Harnett's crate was ridiculously oversized), we were on our way back home.  I had the pup sleeping peacefully beside me with a towel draped over the box. Feeling all maternal like. Harnett was in his spot in the back cargo space, displaying his usual calm, accommodating behavior.  Just 5 minutes from my home and everything changed.

The pup was up, peering out from under the towel.  Small cries, me speaking in a soothing voice, right hand into the box to offer gentle touches.  She'd have none of it.  Cries became screams.  I'm still driving trying to make this still work, but she's out.  I pull her to my lap, still attempting to calm her.  Screaming away, she claws up my right side franticly, me holding her now firmly, not wanting her to bolt, or me to lose control in the city traffic I'm now in.  Trying to park would be even more disastrous right now.  I drive the next few blocks, feeling guilty, astounded. What have I done?

When my second child, Owen, was born I heard a very similar cry. Just out of the birthing room, me and babe being rolled on a gurney to my room when a nurse comes up, and quite efficiently with only a quick howdoyoudo, takes Owen out of my arms. The sleeping baby wakes with a start and just screams, sounds bitter, frightened protest bellowing from his lungs, with his legs dangling out of his blanket.  He is whisked away for 'his wash'.  Oh my, what just happened, what have I done?

That was the same cry, fear mixed with defiance in my little pup’s cries and struggles and nothing I could do to help her.  It was not too long afterward that I came up with her name, Molly Mobster.  Molly for the tender heart I believe she had.   Mobster for, well the other side of her that was so strong, yet defiant - perhaps a prankster , maybe a leader.  I have seen both sides over these last few months.

The good ol'boy

It was all planned.  A trip out west this summer - me with a suitable vehicle to get me there, two dogs, and a small teardrop trailer to haul along the way and then house me without all the fuss of setting up and taking down a tent..

I only had one dog.  Harnett has been with me for  8 years.  He came with all things good - well mannered, friendly with everyone, sweet adorable eyes, no jumping or barking even, no messing, no chewing and with an iron clad will to just be on his own for hours  when I needed to be off to work, waging his tail happily whenever I came home.

Harnett was a rescue from the local SPCA.  He had been picked up several times with his sister by the dog catcher after escaping from their supposed owners.  After the last pick up the owners never came to claim them, so both of them were put for adoption at the local pound.

I had lost my dog Julie the year before and was missing the walks and her company. I decided to visit the pound every Saturday much like I had when I found Julie, until a dog I liked showed up.  I had the perfect dog in mind - small to medium size for easier handling, short haired so the house wouldn't get so too much dirt carried in, and no more than 3 years old but 'potty' trained so that I'd be past the puppy phase, yet with lots of years left in my pet so that I wouldn't have to face change again for a while.

When I arrived at the pound  one fateful day, one dog had just been brought back - too nervous, wetting the house, difficult.  It was Harnett's sister.   Harnett, then Bernard ( the pound gave each dog a temporary name) was in the pen a few cages off.   As I walked past the dog cages (reminded me of what I envisioned as skid row) every dog was at high pitch, barking frankly, set off possibly by a busy run of people looking for their hoped for perfect pet.  Like everyone else, I walked past Harnett, larger than I wanted, older at 5 years and just one big fur ball - I could only imagine the fur clogging up my vacuum.  I then heard it - er.  and looked back -  every other dog was barking in rhythm it seemed, taking in gulps of air in between.  In between is when the 'e'r came through - it was Harnett, head down between his front eyes, lookup with those irristable deep brown eyes.

I took in a breath myself, talked a bit to the staff - been here for weeks, not looking like an adoption is coming, great dog, trying to hold onto him as long as we can, but then...

Harnett came home with me the next week. In another week, it was his home.  He was my dog.  He's been my dog for the past 8 years.