Meet Bonnie Prince Charlie

Dearest Reader,

Thank you for stopping by. It's been many months since I last posted. A special thanks to all those who left comments or emailed me in my absence. I greatly appreciated the encouragement to return to blogging. After ten years (soon eleven) I was feeling a little burned out. I needed a break from social media, so I took some time for myself.

To be honest, I haven't entirely missed sitting at my computer writing and editing photos. In the late summer and fall, the garden kept me pretty busy. As the days got colder my focus shifted inside. Our quirky, old house is a fixer-upper that still needs work. This fall I tackled several projects– the biggest of which was our front and upstairs hallways.

There are a number of good reasons that I don't write a home decor blog. For one thing, I don't have the proper camera equipment for decent interior shots. More importantly, I am not at all convinced that my offbeat sense of interior decor is something anyone else might aspire to.

The first thing any good interior designer would have recommended is to paint out the dark woodwork in the front hallway. Certainly, it would help give our one-hundred-plus-year-old house a fresh, modern look–but even though I knew it was the tasteful thing to do, I just couldn't bring myself to paint the vintage woodwork (with one exception). Years ago, some mischevious children carved their initials and other crude drawings into the beadboard at the foot of the staircase, so I had to paint it out of necessity. Still, I stopped short of slapping white paint on everything.

By far the biggest part of the hallway renovation were the walls. Rather than remove old wallpaper, some previous owner stuccoed plaster over the paper. Then they painted the walls with a color I'd describe as "mochaccino". Underneath all that beige paint, the stucco was really crude with bumps, lumps and valleys.

To get rid of the entire mess, we would have had to strip the walls back to the studs. The construction is lath and plaster, so it would have been a huge job. Instead I elected to sand the bumps and fill the divots in the plasterwork. Even so, it was a really big job! Imagine, if you will, the clouds of plaster dust that have been a big part of our lives all through the fall!

You may note that I need to do a bit of touchup on the edge of the white paint. The dratted painter's tape ripped away some paint when I tried to remove it.

I painted the walls creamy-white. A darker color might have sat next to the dark woodwork better, but a soft white suited my contemporary artwork nicely.

The work is still ongoing. There is one large wall that needs to be completed. The pine floor and staircase need to be refinished (as evidenced in the photo above) and a runner needs to be installed on the staircase (I'd love to leave the stairs bare, but the dog's claws are really hard on the soft pine). Hopefully, this work can all be completed before the gardening season commences.

In other news, we have a new pup! Meet Charlie (named after the legendary Scottish figure "Bonnie Prince Charlie".

Scrap with Piper when he was just a pup.

About a year ago now, our senior dog Scrap passed away. The loss was hardest on Piper, who was then three years old. Scrap was a mentor and Piper's best friend in the world. Over time we all made adjustments, but daily life never felt quite the same.

Despite the unease, I resolved to stick with just one dog. My husband retires in a year and one pet would make our plans to to travel across Canada so much easier. I'd tell my husband to remind me of this resolve in one breath, and in the other, I'd scroll through online listings for Shetland Sheepdog puppies.

We finally went to see a puppy in the late summer, but something didn't feel right. I didn't like to number of dogs in the house or the size of the kennels. The puppy, in question, was scruffy looking and seemed disinterested in us. So we came home disappointed, but feeling like we had made the right choice.

A month or more passed before then I saw another listing for CKC registered pups in the city where we live. There was just one male pup left in the litter.

Charlie not long after we brought him home.

It was love at first sight when the breeder handed me little prince Charlie. He snuggled his warm little body right into the crock of my neck and fell asleep while we chatted about Shetland Sheepdogs with the breeder. 

A few weeks later we brought Charlie home. 

Every dog has a distinct personality.

Charlie is a quick learner. I don't think we've ever had such an easy time housetraining a puppy. After just two weeks, he had only a couple of accidents. At 18 weeks, Charlie obeys hand/voice commands to sit, lay, jump and rollover. We are still working on "stay".

Charlie taste-testing hostas in November (which thankfully are not poisonous).

As with most puppies, Charlie chews everything! Most worrisome is his fondness for eating vegetation. There are lots of poisonous plants in my garden. Hopefully, it's a phase he grows out of.

If not, I may have to rethink perennials like foxgloves. 

And how is Piper handling the little interloper? 

His excitement for having a new buddy made me glad I had reversed my decision to get a second dog. Piper loves Charlie and Charlie dotes on him. It's cute to see how much Charlie takes all his queues from the older dog.

That's not to say that Charlie doesn't give his elder some attitude. Piper's magnificent tail is looking a bit worse for wear after all the games of tug-of-war.

"Hey, let go of my tail!"

Like a Sumo wrestler, roly-poly Charlie hip-checks Piper and knocks him to the ground. In a wide-open show of teeth, big dog and little pup "gurr" playfully at one another and tumble around. Poor Piper puts up with a lot of love! 

So now you're all caught up on all my news. Thanks again for returning to my blog. I hope to resume regular posts going forward.

The Boys Learn to Swim (the hard way!)

Piper took just one look at the brown ducks gliding effortlessly across the mirror-smooth surface of the lake and he forgot all about his aversion to water.

Those of you who have followed this blog for a while probably remember how much Scrap loves to play in the sprinklers.

Piper, on the other hand, absolutely hates the water. If he sees me pulling out the garden hose, he cowers on the porch until the tap is turned off and he knows the coast is clear.

A bath is his worst nightmare come true! If he thinks he’s about to be groomed and bathed, he plots his escape and hides from me.

In late August, we took a vacation trip to northern Ontario. Our destination was a campground just outside the town of Sturgeon Falls. 

A couple of hours north of Toronto the landscape changes quite perceptibly. The hills get taller and deciduous trees give way to pine and fur. Traffic thins out the further you go. If there was any doubt about the wildness of the landscape, yellow signs begin to pop up warning drivers about the possibility of encountering a wandering moose. 

Have you ever seen a moose? 

I haven't. The whole way north, I kept hoping we might catch a glimpse of these huge, lumbering creatures, but the only excitement we experienced was a family of wild turkeys scurrying from one side of the highway to the other.

After a long day in the car, the dogs were restless. The clerk manning the front desk at our hotel in North Bay told us there was a leash-free park nearby. Perfect! 

So off we went to Champlain Park on the shores of Lake Nipissing.

That's where Piper saw the brown ducks. Squirrels and large birds are enemies you ward off in Piper's mind. He took one look at the small flock of brown ducks and forgot all about his dislike of water.

The ducks weren't exactly worried about the barking dog. They simply moved a little further out into the lake and quack, quack, quacked their disdain from a safe distance.

 Scrap modeling a lifejacket.

Neither Piper nor Scrap can swim. Whenever we're out in our canoe, the boys sport canine lifejackets. Should they ever have the misfortune to tumble overboard, the lifejackets would keep them afloat.

It's a comfort to know that the lifevests would save their lives in such an eventuality, but they wouldn't spare the dogs from being in a state of complete panic. It would make it much easier on them if we could ease their fear of water.

So we didn't discourage Piper from charging into the water after the ducks that day. We even had them fetching the ball just off the shore at Lake Nipissing.

A bend in the Sturgeon River.

The following day we arrived at our final destination– the campground in Sturgeon Falls. After we unpacked our camp gear into the cute, one room cabin, we decided to go for a swim even though the grey clouds overhead were spitting rain.

Dogs were not permitted to swim at the campground's tiny beach, so we skipped the usual precaution of the lifejackets. When we discovered that we were the only crazy people swimming in the rain, we let them off-leash so they could watch us swim from the safety of the floating wharf.

Big mistake! The Sturgeon River is both wide and deep. A few feet from shore the sandy bottom drops away into deep, dark depths.

I bravely took the plunge into the cold water while my husband stayed behind with the two boys. The dogs were transfixed by the sight of me floating in the water. Barking madly, they followed me along the wharf jostling one another for the best vantage point.

Not five minutes later Scrap lost his balance and fell in. I am not sure who was more shocked him or me! You might think that instinct would kick in and Scrap would begin to dog paddle, but no. I watched with horror as he began to sink like a stone.

Thank goodness I was just inches away! I reached down and grabbed Scrap by the scruff of the neck. In one quick movement, I hauled him back up to the surface. 

Treading water, I held Scraps up as he recovered his composure. Unfortunately, he is almost 40 lbs. After a minute or so of treading frantically, I had to let go and pray he would swim on his own. As one final gesture of assistance, I propelled him in the direction of the shore.

Instinct finally kicked in and Scrap began to paddle the water furiously with his front paws. My husband, who had dashed into the water at the first sign of trouble, reached out and dragged him back to safety.

In hindsight, we should have foreseen the possibility that the dogs might accidentally fall in the water.  Lesson learned the hard way! From that moment on, we resolved to use the lifejackets whenever the dogs are anywhere near water.

Thankfully Scraps wasn't at all traumatized by his ordeal. In fact, he waded back into the river a couple of minutes after he was taken to shore. I guess if you're a furry beast cool water is always a relief in the heat of summer.

We put our new rule into practice the very next day. This time it was Piper fell into the Sturgeon River. You should have seen the look of shock on his little face!

The lifejacket did its job and kept his head up above the water. In this instance, instinct had enough time to register and Piper began to paddle. Unfortunately, he chose to head in the direction of the wharf floating high in the water rather than the safety of the beach, so he still needed rescue! Luckily the lifejackets have a handle across the back that allows you to lift the dog out of the water in a pinch.

Even if Piper eventually becomes a confident swimmer the brown ducks, like those on Lake Nipissing, have nothing to worry about. If threatened, they'd simply take to the air.

It's highly unlikely that Piper will ever learn to fly!

And then there were two...

He was the little guy responsible for dandelion control. The bright yellow flowers were his favourite snack food and I didn't mind one bit!

Piper and our rabbit, Honey, were my constant companions in the garden (the two older dogs always preferring the cool comfort of the air conditioned kitchen). I have never felt right about keeping the rabbit caged, so when I could, I allowed him the freedom to hop around and explore the backyard.

Last May

You might suppose that at this small hint of freedom, the rabbit might make good his escape into the wild. Quite the contrary is true! He preferred the safety of familiar ground and always had a few favourite spots. The yard is fully fenced, so it was never likely that he'd stray far at any rate. 

My only worry was hawks. That's is where Piper's animosity for large birds came in handy. 

This hostility started with seagulls that frequent the Walmart parking lot. Piper loves the car (weather permitting). He’s one of those dogs that likes to ride in the back with his head out the open window. The slightest jingle of car keys and Piper’s at the front door manoeuvring to ensure he gets to come along.

On the occasion that I am off doing errands or in the store, Piper takes the self-appointed task of protecting the car very seriously. It was on one of these shopping trips that Piper got introduced to seagulls.

Gulls are brash and brazenly opportunistic. They often hang around in the parking lot of our neighbourhood Walmart looking to take advantage of the smallest scrap of edible garbage. When a few of them flew near our parked car, Piper decided the gulls were the enemy. I came out from the store to find him jumping around the car barking at the seagulls through the half-open windows (I should mention this happened in the fall. I don't leave him in a hot car in the summer).

Piper on patrol.

It occurred to me that his dislike of seagulls might have an application in the garden.

I began to encourage him to bark whenever something large flew overhead. Before I knew it, he was barking at any large bird who flew over the garden (mostly harmless black vultures, but expecting him to appreciate the subtle distinctions between a hawk and a vulture seemed to be overly optimistic).

I began to feel comfortable with the rabbit being in the garden as long as his buddy Piper was on patrol.

I have never known a dog who is as fascinated with other creatures as Piper is.  I'll be digging around in the flowerbed when I notice Piper poking his nose at ants that make the mistake of crossing his path. Or I'll look over and see him watching bumblebees with rapt attention. 

When my husband discovered a Swallowtail newly emerged from its chrysalis earlier this spring, he gave the butterfly a free ride over to the flowers in my garden. Of course, Piper was fascinated with the tentative flutter of butterfly's new wings.

Piper loved the rabbit. He was forever licking his face and ears. I am not so sure the feeling was entirely mutual, but the rabbit put up with all the attention.

In early June, I began to notice a problem with the rabbit's ears. A bit of online research suggested it might be mites, but I couldn't find any indication of mites when I examined him. His balance seemed a bit off, and then sadly, Honey took a sudden turn for the worse. He had a little seizure and passed away in my husband's arms.

I was devastated–especially by the unexpected nature of his loss. To make me feel better my husband took away the empty cage and hid it in the basement. Still, I found myself looking over to the spot by my desk where the cage had been. My morning routine of cleaning out his cage was gone and I missed the way his eyes lit up when I fed him a sliver of apple for breakfast. And of course, I felt his absence in the garden...

Unfortunately, Honey has not been our only loss this summer. On Monday, we had to make that horrible decision that I knew was coming. 

Buddy was well on his way to twenty years old. He was a handsome boy and the best of dogs.

This is one of the ways I want to remember him.

In the last six months, Buddy had really slowed down. Stairs were impossible with his limited vision, so my husband carried him to bed each night and down to breakfast each morning. 

The two younger dogs would devour their dry toast and be standing at the door ready to go out for their morning exercise. More often than I'd like, Buddy would eat his breakfast and head for his bed. Still, there were lots of times he'd rally and his quality of life was still good.

On Saturday, Buddy seemed to have a bad stomach bug–not untypical for an older dog. By Sunday we knew it was something more serious. We were up quite literally all night mopping up mess after mess. I took him down to the bathroom at 4 am to give him a complete bath. He lay exhausted and spent as I dried and brushed his fur. There didn't seem to be any fight left in him.

On Monday we made the terrible decision that no pet lover ever wants to make and booked an appointment with the vet. Buddy lay still while the vet confirmed the merit of our decision. A few minutes later I stroked Buddy's head, tears rolling down my face as my husband and I said our goodbyes. Buddy stirred and then drifted quietly away.

There are now just two dogs in a garden, but in my heart, there will always be three.

P.S. Though the bunny is gone, Piper still charges up and down the yard alerting me to the presence of any large birds. Perhaps it is just as well because yesterday I noticed there is a wild baby bunny in the garden.