Sky Raisin

Dear Sunday,

There’s something about a global pandemic that makes me lose track of time. The only thing that keeps my days structured are twice weekly Zoom meetings. I know today is Sunday because I host my family– we call it Appy Hour. Mid-week is friends Zoom, which is a bit like sitting out on the deck with them with a glass of wine and completely frivolous conversation.

Otherwise I’m at a loss. I’ve pretended, quite convincingly so far, that all this isolation and social distancing has not been a hardship for me, since I learned a long time ago to be self-sufficient to the point of hermitry. I can entertain myself. I don’t need (nor do I want) constant communication with people about every little thing, I don’t rely on my acquaintances for validation (whatever that is).

But I miss people. I miss people I like and even people I don’t like. I’m tired of being cooped up with only the voice of Trump saying increasingly stupid and scary things day after day. Tired of partner, of my demon puppy, of this beautiful house, of floors, walls and windows. Tired of weeds and rain and morning headaches. I miss you!

Did you know there is a Text Crisis Line for those of us who feel isolated, depressed or just lonely? If you are in Canada, the US, the UK, or Ireland, visit this site for more information.

M e a n w h i l e . . . May I brighten your day with a few cartoons from Drawtism that brightened my day?

…

Demon puppy used to be partial to The Egg, but now shamelessly sleeps like The Sistine Chapel.

Peace and love and virtual hugs!

~~FP

To Be Polite

Prompt: Polite

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Hello Wednesday,

Did you ever see the movie The Miracle Worker, where Patty Duke played young Helen Keller and Anne Bancroft her teacher, Annie Sullivan? Do you recall that the majority of the movie was the teacher trying over and over, in vain, to get through to Helen that the hand sign language represented words?

Well, we should have named our puppy Helen, not Holly, because despite constant repetition, relentless persistence, and immense patience it took forever for smart, stubborn Helen to grasp that the signs meant something, in a dramatic climax to the movie after which the film ended like the snuffing of a candle. My question to the heavens is, when will Holly have her wawa water pump moment? When will she learn what commands (politely delivered) mean? When will she let us know when she needs to pee? When will she get it? When will I shout to the stars SHE KNOWS! ?

Yes, I do think we should be polite to all living things, including dogs. Why not? And why not trees and air and oceans? We might not face extinction if we had better environmental manners, right?

So relating tenuously to today’s prompt, here are a few of my favourite cartoons:

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Love and peace,

~~FP

Not Guilty

Prompt: Humans

Hello Wednesday, a little late.

To be honest, I completely forgot about my Wednesday post, since I had a very unharmonious day with our new puppy, Holly, who picked February 26 to be the worst puppy she could be, and I have the damaged clothes and broken skin and frazzled nerves to prove it. In addition, she forgot everything she ever learned about housetraining. It is a day that will live in infamy. Next February 26 I will book myself into a spa with a sensory deprivation tank and try to forget. It will be an annual event, and wine will be involved.

On Thursday, Holly was gentle as a lamb. We took her out to socialize and she met lots of other dogs and people and did very well. I talked to a professional trainer who assured me that housetraining and biting regression are common and that, after all, puppy is still just a baby at 12 weeks. Puppies are like human babies, she added, and get hyper and bratty when they are tired. She then taught puppy, in less than a minute, to come to her hand. We learned how to stop her jumping up on others, if not on us, from a woman in the parking lot. Holly and I had cuddles in the car on the way out and on the way back.

A few minutes ago, she ravaged my back and legs, unprovoked, with her needle teeth and razor claws, while pulling on my jeans and top and possibly ripping them. I haven’t looked. I can only think of spa day, 2021.

The prompt today is “human” and I keep reminding myself that I am an adult human, the most advanced species on earth, and Holly is a little baby dog who has never seen a toothbrush and who was literally bred over the millennia to be my best friend. I just checked on her and she is crashed out in the front hallway, snoring. I simply adore her when she is asleep.

Relating to today’s prompt and just a little to today’s tribulations, may I present a few of my favourite cartoons?

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Peace, love, and cuddles,

~~FP

You Are Here

Prompt: Start here

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Dear Wednesday,

You know what they say about beginnings: They have to start somewhere.

This coming Saturday marks the startling start of a new era in this house: Our adopted 8-week old puppy comes home. Cliché alert! She is a cute, cuddly, soft, plump, adorable, blob of perfection. She is also Godzilla, a big fat steamroller with brown eyes and a little red collar who will pee everywhere and deny us an uninterrupted night’s sleep for too many months. Why, WHY do this to ourselves? This is why:

Such a sad little Godzilla. So melancholy while ready to wreak spirited havoc. She is a Christmas puppy so Holly seemed like a fitting name. Will she live up to her name? Will she be pretty, prickly, evergreen, and seasonal? Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, in the spirit of today’s prompt, may I present a few of my favourite cartoons?

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Love and peace,

~~FP

Bad Goldfish

Prompt: Unrelated

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Hello Wednesday,

As summer approaches we get busier here in tiny town, with gardening, watching fish mate, visitors, making up species names for birds, wondering what “that smell” is, mentally putting out forest fires, and treating sunburn. It is a magical time of year.

We are thinking of getting a puppy. There is a local farm litter of chubby creatures of unknown lineage, and a couple of shepherd/ lab puppies now available at a local SPCA. Life is so easy and peaceful without a puppy, dear Wednesday, so I’m of two minds. My brain is split. My heart wants a cuddly fur ball, but my muscles, joints, and sleep centre all scream ARE YOU SURE?

Decades ago I did this: I woke up in the morning and noted that I felt cheerful enough to hum a random song, that it was supremely easy to propel myself out of bed, that I felt healthy, fit, alert, awake, energetic, and optimistic about the day ahead. I wondered if that moment would be worthy of a spot in my memory. It was a worthy thought. I appreciated, even if for just a fleeting moment, my youth and vigour, and as I now am greeted each morning with bizarre little aches, pains, random bumps, vague mental lapses, and a desire for a puppy, at least I have that vivid sense memory of a time when my body sang, even if my brain was annoying and juvenile.

The saddest thing in the world: a lone duck or Canada goose gliding across the lake,  obviously looking for a missing mate. Also puffins washing up on shore starved to death because global warming has caused their food fish to flee to colder waters further north. Today I recycled a wax milk carton, so I’m part of the solution.

Before I go and peel an orange, may I present a few of my favourite cartoons of no particular theme?

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Love, peace, and happy memories.

~~FP

Any Chance?

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Peace and love,

~~FP

What do you do

What do you do when your dog grows old? When his feet are tired and the pads are worn? When your words of praise are muffled in his ears, and his eyes are milky from their years of use? When his face is grizzled and his color isn’t as vibrant?

You love him.

You rub the feet that dutifully carried him by your side.

You speak your praises more loudly, so everybody else can hear the words that he can’t.

You guide him the way he has guided you, and prevent him from getting lost as you were before he came along.

You kiss his muzzle and admire the wisdom that has beset him in his later years.

And when it comes time to put him to his final rest, knowing that an irreplaceable part of your heart will follow him, you will do so knowing that you loved him.

And he loved you more.

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• —Written by Jackie Short-Nguyen

Tiny Umbrella

Prompt: None

Hello Wednesday!

In a departure from tradition, this post is not related to a prompt, nor is the post meaningfully related to the images that accompany it. (Just call me crazy and wild!) It’s just that the following has rattled around in my head for over a day now, so it’s time to let it loose:

Your family’s home
They wanna be fed
But you are confused and tired and stressed 
And would rather be dead!

We are the caterers, my friends
And we’ll keep on cooking ’til the end
We are the caterers
We are the caterers
No time for stress dreams
‘Cause we are the caterers of the world!

Who knows what it means
It’s only a dream
But when it’s night after night after night
You just wanna scream!

We are the caterers, my friends
And we’ll keep on cooking ’til the end
We are the caterers
We are the caterers
No time for stress dreams
‘Cause we are the caterers of the world!

Do you have recurring, repetitive anxiety dreams? I do, and they get so frustrating— and so boring— that I am trying new strategies to keep them at bay.

The kitchen/ cooking dream had almost faded away, once I conjured up detailed images of a singing catering crew who would pop into the middle of the stress dream as soon as I saw the dreaded big kitchen. Now my dreams are getting sneaky. The big cookpots are only slowly revealed. The ingredients and guest list keep changing…

I suppose if I dealt with the cause of this particular recurring dream it would go away for good. But for the life of me, I can’t figure it out.

Apropos of nothing, may I present, since it’s Wednesday, a few of my favourite cartoons?

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Wishing you an excitement-filled week—

~~FP

Eli, no!

Prompt: Playful

I found this wonderful illustration by graphic artist Katie Kirk.

Ever brought a puppy home and tried to teach it to be responsible member of your family?

My first puppy, Chance, thought that “no” was the beginning of a fun game, where I would chase him around the house. Another entertaining game was “Escape from the fenced yard and give Fluffy a heart attack”. And “Leave all the cheap rugs alone and chew only the expensive one”. Chance is long gone but that little rug is in my kitchen, the corner chewed and mangled, and reminds me of my fuzzface boy, who looked a bit like this:

Chance became diabetic at age seven, and we gave him insulin injections twice daily until he died at at fourteen. Yep. I miss him.

 

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• Our dog Chance was a purebred Samoyed. He was not a product of a puppy mill, but many purebred puppies are. Do not buy a puppy from a pet store. No reputable breeder would supply their puppies to a pet store. There are often purebred dogs awaiting adoption at animal shelters, along with completely lovable mixed breed animals, like our current dog.
  If you know of an animal who is abused or neglected, please contact your local humane society, SPCA or animal rescue organization.