Hi, I'm Yoda

Me before my accident

I’m young according to the human calendar but adventurous beyond my years.

Today, my new carers have arrived and I’m curious about them both. They stand near my owner, the one that smells sweet, and although I am allowed to jump on her shoulders from atop the refrigerator, I’m not sure the large man would take me into his arms as she does.

The human with the flower in her hat is shorter, like my master. 

“Oh, Yoda, come down from there,” my owner says.

I jump into her arms and cling to her sweater with my nails. I snuggle into her neck. The other female reaches to pat my head. I let her.

Now we’re all going to take a tour of my house. My male owner, the one who scratches me behind my ears, taps my head and runs my tail through his hands, is coming along. I hope he doesn’t give away my hiding places.

Oh, we’re passing by the back door. I’ve taught myself to recognize the sound of the door handle turning and because I want desperately to go outdoors, I leap from my female owner and jump at the door. Arrrg! She picks me up and carries me down the second flight of stairs to the basement. I’m alright because it’s cool down here and there are at least seven places, good ones, to hide.

The humans are talking about the shower. I’m bored. I’m heading upstairs for something to eat. I’ll have a rest and tell you all about the new people later.

Here's my favourite song. The Cat Came Back

So Long, Farewell

The Foothills are alive with the sound of music

The upbeat lyrics from a The Sound of Music tune come to mind as we prepare to leave this house and pet sit in Okotoks, Alberta.

There’s a sad sort of buzz from the clock in our assigned bedroom combined with the barking of the two dogs in the back boot room. And from the floor of the bedroom, a squeaky shrill executes from the Yorkie. We rise up because there are chores to complete before the homeowners arrive.

Loading the Ural

The most physical and cumbersome task is to winch the bike onto the trailer. 

Frank sets up the parallel metal ramps as guides for the three tires. It’s a Ural sidecar motorbike and weighs about 800 pounds. 

On the first go, the ramp under the bike is too close to the edge of the trailer and the motor cannot get past the wooden barrier. So, the bike is released down the ramp and sits on the gravel driveway. 

The second attempt forces one of the pins on the pully system to break and profanity fills the air. Frank manages to crank the hoist without one of its pins as I guide the front tire up the ramp until the two back tires are on the trailer. With several pulls, tugs and the use of a wooden board as leverage, the bike is positioned into place.

Ural on trailer

I think of the little birds in that song and “cuckoo” comes to mind.

The indoor chores include washing the spare room bedding, then the dog blankets, clearing and cleaning the breakfast dishes, cleaning the refrigerator, wiping down kitchen appliances, letting the three dogs outside for one last ‘wee’, wiping twelve paws, vacuuming the carpets and wiping down the floors. We sit quietly afterward at the kitchen table and savour a cup of tea.

The owners arrive home to a frenzied welcome of barks, jumps, licks, frantic tail wagging, and circles. The pet owners are as enthusiastic about seeing their darlings as are the dogs.

We debrief with the wonderful homeowners and assure them that there were no issues with the three dogs or the property. We exchange hugs and handshakes and walk out the front door. Once inside Big White, we motor on to our next overnight location –  a roadside pullover.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good night,

 we hate to go and leave this pretty sight.

We sat this geodesic dome home and dogs

It's All About Ms. M

Moxie ready for her walk

“The little one’s name is Moxie. She was in heat but we think that’s passed,” the owner says. I pet the trembling Yorkshire Terrier. “This one is Biscuit and that one is Clifford.” The owner points to two relatively calm Staffordshire Terriers.

Little Ms. M is held by the owner and kissed over and over. When her owner needs to do something with both hands she passes the little dog onto another member of the family. In the meantime, the older of the two Staffies, Biscuit, licks my legs and ankles incessantly. My skin is exposed because I’m sporting shorts today. I push her away and the owners looked surprised. 

"That's how she greets people," the owner says.

I can tell by the looks on their faces they don’t like my redirecting the compulsive behaviour of their large dog. Conflicted by my gentle nudge, Ms. B takes to licking my husband’s legs; he’s wearing his kilt.
.

For the time being, the younger of the Staffies is distracted by our presence and shows no attention to the little dog held securely by the owner.

Ms. M on the dog bed with Biscuit in background

Moxie and Clifford

We are given a written general outline of their pet's habits and are asked if we have any questions. We come up with only one; “Are you expecting any trades workers to come to the house while you’re away?” They explain about the possibility of a cable tech coming by but tell us not to worry.

The homeowners leave and in their absence the prominent activity is keeping the big male dog away from the little female doggie. He follows her relentlessly, trying to mount her, mounting her and causing her to squeal. We phone the owners to let them know about the dog on dog activity and they recommend that we isolate the male to the back boot room. His howls are long and loud.

A dog is a dog when it’s near a female in heat.

Life Is A Gamble

First, you see it. A lit cigarette hangs from a man’s mouth. He removes it with one hand and stuffs a few fries into this opening with the other. Next, you smell it. The unique aroma of tobacco. Then, you taste it. A thick cloud of expelled smoke from deep inside this stranger’s lungs swirls, almost purposefully, into your nostrils and lingers in the back of your throat. You cough it away as best you can. It’s futile. It lingers.

Stoney Nakoda Resort & Casino

Stoney Nakoda Resort & Casino sits comfortably on the Stoney reserve at the convenient intersection of Highway 16 East and 40 South; a long road through Kananaskis Country. We’ve chosen to settle here in our RV for the night with permission from the front desk clerk. We consider having our evening meal at the lounge but are told by security that it is a smoking-permitted café. 

First, you see it. Paper hand towels crumpled and strewn around the garbage can near the sinks. Next, you smell it. Contents left in the toilet bowl. You flush. It’s futile. It lingers. Afterwards, you approach the woman at the front reception and inform her that the ladies’ room is in need of attention. You smile.

Life is a gamble. Play the hand you are dealt.

Walmart Wetlands

Nicola Lake roadside view

Refreshing fragrances waft from the lakeside and brushes alongside Nicola Lake through the screened windows on our bus. 

It's early morning and we are enjoying a breakfast to prepare us for the trek to Kamloops to visit family. 

View from Big White window

Frank's grandson and his mother have purchased a house and he is now preparing a magnificent back yard garden. The first thing we inhale when we step out onto the back porch is the dynamic fragrance of lilacs. Our visit with them is filled with lively chatter and full meals. They are a pleasure to be with.

We arrive mid-day in Salmon Arm and experience a most disturbing event. We sit outside our bus at the Walmart parking lot and our conversation is interrupted by the sound of barking squawks emanating from the bushes at the edge of the wetlands. My research into the sounds doesn’t clearly identify its source. It sounds a great deal like a Black-crowned Night-Heron.

Coyote ~ courtesy of  Clive Byson

I put the binoculars to my eyes and begin scanning the horizon. A Coyote stares back at me. He releases his gaze and directs his attention to the ground in front of him. Within a few seconds, he captures a gray mouse in his teeth and devours it. I watch him trot across the grass back into the protection of the bushes. I’m impressed because it’s the closest I’ve ever been to a Canis latrans.

Coyote at Walmart

I set my field glasses down and see near us an adorable quail strutting along the fence line. She disappears cloaked in her famous camouflage into a small cluster of beige bushes. 

Grouse ~ Clive Byson

Earlier that day, we walked along the Salmon Arm docks to observe the calm glide of grebes and the dynamic plunge of an osprey as it grabs food from the lake and sits on a wharf post, feasting on his find.

Nature is the ultimate reward between house and pet sits.

Hope For The Hopeful

Spike, our pretend cat

We phone one of Frank’s relatives just outside of Hope. She answers with a friendly tone and we are welcome to stay with her overnight. It is our great pleasure to connect with friends and family and to meet new people on our 2016 adventure across three provinces.

Big White is as ready as she’ll ever be to haul Frank and me and our Ural motorcycle on a trailer behind her. She’s a powerful beast and doesn’t mind the mountain terrain. 

Big White hauls the Ural

After Hope, we stop in Yale. Their new rest area is complete with large displays of the history of the little town with a big gold-rush past. We take our time with our picnic lunch and chat with other folks on their own journey.

Clean up service

We settle in at Skuppa Rest Area in Skihist Provincial Park for a late dinner. We have the privilege of meeting a wonderful lady who used to be a dump truck driver and helped build the Dempster Highway. She reminds us that it is also referred to as Yukon Highway 5 and Northwest Territories Highway 8. The next morning, Frank cleans the area a bit. It’s a happy service we both enjoy.

Later that afternoon, we arrive at Spences Bridge, a small community north along Highway #1. We take several photographs of the St. Michael and All Angels church with the intention of having Frank prepare a sketch of it. We’ll display it for you when it’s complete. 

St. Michaels and All Saints church

If you like trains, behind you and in front of you and the clickity clack and squeal of metal on metal combined with the sound of a rushing river, then the Cal Woods Recreation Reserve campsite is the one for you. We prepare a meal over an open fire, explore the area on foot and capture memorials of good folks gone on to the next realm.

Panning for gold ~ Fraser River

Frank prepares dinner

Archie Adams memorial

Cal Woods memorial

Beautiful yellow daisies call out to me to take their photograph. All daisies remind me of my mother. Frank and I stand in silence for a while admiring the view and the magnificence of nature.

We pull into Kamloops and make our way to a suburban neighbourhood. We settle in for a few days. Life is good. 

Yellow daisies roadside

It Was The Best Of Times

Vancouver Island View

Today is a happy day and a sad day. As house sitters and pet sitters, we are glad to be with two dogs, two parrots and one cat in a luxurious home on a forty-acre parcel on Vancouver Island.

We started this gig mid-November 2015 and are now leaving April 14, 2016. It was a pleasure to sit the homeowner's pets and very nice of them to provide a private bedroom with an ensuite bath.

We agreed from the onset with the owners that we would feed the dogs at 5:00 a.m. as is their habit, along with the cat who knows when feeding time is also, and of course, the two parrots who chatter as Frank prepares their food and water. We often joked with each other about our living at a veterinary clinic.

Tipper the Ragdoll

Walking the Jack Russells

African Grey parrot

 When we first arrived, Misty, one of the Jack Russell dogs, struggled to get up from her bed and wobbled tentatively to the door. Ah, she didn’t make it and pooped on the rug. We worried a bit about her hip and asked the owners, by email, if we should contact the local pet doctor. They calmed us famously with comforting words that the little dog did suffer from hip issues and to only watch her condition. We will miss Misty and her companion Shorty.

Dogs housed in pens at night

Just yesterday, one of the parrots, Rose, fell from her perch and broke her beak. She bled a bit and very soon it coagulated. For the rest of the day, and again this morning, she tucks her head under her wing and sleeps. We took the owner’s advice to offer her small pieces of banana and fruit juice. She accepted both, cautiously, but went back to resting.

Beautiful Rose

That leaves me to say that I will miss Tipper, the beautiful Ragdoll breed cat, the most. He is so loveable and cuddly. What a pleasure it was to have his bump his head on my arm to encourage me to pet him. We brushed him regularly, but, alas, his long hair tends to live a life of its own.

Tipper in the sun

Life is a journey (thanks Marc). Life is good.