Life and Pets

Finn, taxes and ataxia …

This is the labradoodle I groomed today. I was looking forward to grooming Finn, and I was warned that he “didn’t like” being groomed.


He is wearing a soft muzzle because I was warned, and he didn’t seem to try to bite in spite of it. But Finn growled for almost anything, was very jumpy and “touchy” and grouchy.

It was a challenging task to part Finn from his matts, but other than getting one nail too short, neither of us got hurt! He was extremely tense over his nails getting trimmed, so I didn’t really take too much off each one; his owner thought I had forgotten a few. He will have to go to a vet or a different groomer for a shorter nail trim. He was better, but not much better, for “dremeling” (filing with rotary tool).

Partly in thanks to the soft muzzle, I didn’t get bitten, but he reacted to touch or maneuvering of his body, any clipping of his legs or handling of any kind of his paws. I outmaneuvered him for the three hours that it took to get him “fixed up”: yes, he is muzzled, but I still jumped when he jumped. I have rarely had a doggy client who was more disrespectful and “dominant”. I was told he was a rescue dog, but his owner has had him for EIGHT years!

Finally, I finished Finn and let him into an indoor-outdoor run. He urinated what seemed like GALLONS indoors, right beside the open door! He glared at me when I tried to get him to go outside, as he had glared at me all day. Just forget coming back in when called! Then, as he was shaking his head, I tried to examine his ears, and he nearly took my hand off! Hmmm … job well done, eh? In my defense, he also hated his face being handled, and it was pretty hard to trim his head with or without the muzzle on, while he curled his lip and growled the entire time.


I rustled up some lunch for Gary and I… I was starving! Or so I imagined.

While I was in this perceived state of exhaustion, Gary asked if I had made any progress on the tax return that our tax preparer needs. Evidently this year, the household income will affect Gary’s tax refund, so I am obliged to get mine in “on time”. As Gary’s has been handed in early, there is some pressure for me to follow suit, soon. It used to not matter, as we filed separately; now it matters because the rules have changed and we are not “separated”. Hmmm.

Never before have I been as “ready” to submit my information as early as this Spring… but I wasn’t QUITE ready. So guess what I did this afternoon after my grueling morning of labradoodle grooming? It really did not take very long to list the figures I had come up with for income and expense, and I always have the feeling I am missing something. Revenue Canada needn’t worry… the mistake will always be in their favour. Linda (the accountant and tax preparer) said that because MY return is a little “fussier”, she was happy to have it so promptly. Gary’s return will get sent in next week, WELL ahead of the deadline.

I didn’t mess about McBride very long after seeing Linda. Made a bank deposit and stopped at the grocery store briefly and hurried home. After feeding the boarding dogs their evening meal, I fixed myself a hearty drink of my birthday rye: Northern Harvest Canadian Whiskey … voted the best rye in the world. (Thank you Mr. Schwartz!).

I know you’re all waiting for it … where does the “ataxia” come in? Well, I have now had two and one half drinks of rye, and they are “Granny” drinks (those who knew Myrtle will understand!). I do not want anyone to phone or come by. I had thought of driving an hour to Valemount for some live music, but … I think better of it now. We are waiting for Shelly to return safely from Calgary, and that will make my day and my evening.

I can hardly walk. That’s where the ataxia comes in…

Remember the collar story from yesterday? My friend, Fanny’s owner, posted this picture on Facebook for my interest:


The infamous personalized collar, saved from the garbage, thank goodness. I love Fanny Mae and her pretty collar.

I guess that’s it for tonight. I’ll be sober enough to administer the darling Archer’s insulin shot at 7:30… and after that it’s a crap shoot. We’ll just see how many online word games I can win at this rate. 😉

Tomorrow, or soon, I should tell you about Monica’s darling “red dogs” who are boarding here: Archer, Lucy and Jackson. I tell Monica, “I am in love with your red dogs!” every time that they stay here. Monica also has a couple of dogs at home, plus other livestock, but with three of the dogs staying here, she knows that pandemonium and chaos is not as likely “back at the ranch”, where she has others watching.

Love, Ann

And then there’s Juno. Her mommy is designing baby clothes, and has the finest model possible! OMG we love this child.









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