Life and Pets

Tuesday …

Coffee’s made and I’m loafing. I’m in Gary’s recliner with my fresh Oso Negro caffeine and looking forward to the day.

There have been quite a few check-outs, so the Pet Hostel is down to a dull roar again, only 12 boarders in total.

While rereading my own last blog entry, I realized that Eirwen’s photos didn’t load. I don’t even know why that happens, as I went through the same procedure as always. But yesterday, too, I deleted 4,000 pics from this iPad, thinking, “I sure hope these are all on the computer by now”. So I will find Eirwen later. She’s a beauty.

On the desktop Mac computer, there are 32,000 pictures, and a great many are of dogs and cats. There are probably thousands of exact copies and often more than one shot of each pet. It is almost as difficult for me to delete photos of my treasured guests as it is to delete any photo of any human friend or family member. Even duplicates!

I need another long, cold Robson Valley winter to organize computer files and my taxes. I might have said that last year as well. Oh, yeah, I did catch up with the taxes, now overdue again. That has an effect on Gary’s pension cheque, so the pressure’s back on.

But for now … enjoy the summer! I wore myself out yesterday afternoon cleaning out a hedgerow of raspberry canes, and only finished one side of two long rows … ie. about 1/4 of the job. It’s tedious work, but sometime tedium is restful. I was on a roll! While “scootching” along on my butt, getting soaked from the soil and berries on the ground, I promised myself that I would not consult my cell phone until I had finished the row. Mercifully, I didn’t hear the ping or chime of any call, mail or Facebook notification while I worked.

You might have guessed where this is going … I got to the end of the row and the limit of my endurance, then reached for my phone in my back pocket. No phone. I felt desperate to eat and drink, so I went up to the house to do that, and eventually came back with another phone to locate my cell. No wonder I didn’t hear it as I worked! It was buried in the canes and weeds that I had piled up as I worked. I had missed nothing urgent, not even in the business context. Leaving it somewhere safe next time!

Yet another view from Teare Mountain.

Sandra James Photography: view on her morning walk

Eventually, this dog, “Felony” committed a misdemeanour while staying at the Pet Hostel. The dog, cane corso or a mix (some kind of mastiff) was treated like royalty, as are most boarders. I was warned that Felony might bite someone who stuck a hand into her kennel, so I hung a “BEWARE OF DOG” sign on the gate. While she stayed here, I made no sudden moves near her, but about the fourth time I petted her, she snapped at me. I was not injured, and I guess if the dog was “serious”, she wouldn’t have miss, but this hurt my feelings!

Felony’s owner reports that the dog has always been unpredictable, and didn’t apologize. I didn’t fire this client, but they visit the valley no more than once per year, so I will likely see them again.

Felony says, “Make my day.”

But then there is Festus. I’ve babysat Festus all of his life. I love Festus, and we sat on a large blanket discussing the meaning of life, and as I clipped his nails he made no fuss.


Gibbs is a senior dog who is enjoying a country retirement in Canada after growing up in San Francisco. He seems frail, but while boarding, he eats well and is usually quiet.

Murdock is a handsome baby Frenchton, a hybrid cross of French Bulldog and Boston Terrier. This mix has become quite popular, and Murdock is the most pleasant and biddable of all the nice ones I’ve handled.

Baxter & Moose

Baxter, Moose, and their owner have become dear friends. They live in Prince George. Coincidentally, I was boarding Winston, whose family just moved from PG to McBride … and Moose and Winston are brothers!

I guess I have deleted Winston’s pic from the iPad, but you saw him in the last blog post.

Sorry to run away … but I have real live beings to care for (yes, Gary has had a breakfast, but pets await).

Love, Ann

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