THIRSTY THURSDAY

"When you're hot, you're hot."

I have no idea who dreamed up that line, but it certainly makes a lot of sense, in several ways.

Huge chunks of North America have been suffering through temperatures in the 90s (F) or above. (That's 30+ for those of us who count temperature in degrees Celsius.) Even up here on the Canadian Prairies (north of the Plains States) I've seen video of people cooking eggs on sidewalks and on the dashboards of cars in the last few days. I kid you not. 

One of the managers of our SPCA (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) was on tv, and surprised me. We might think it's OK to leave the family pup in the car for a bit, while we go sun and surf. Park in the shade if you can, leave some water, roll down the windows. Apparently not. There is no safe period of time that you can leave your pet in a car, unattended, on a hot day, said the bright young woman. Our dogs feel the heat as much as we do. I assume that would be the same for cats. (Yes, this is one time I worry even about cats. Dogs have owners; cats have staff — you can tell the difference in attitude pretty quickly.)

I was talking to an SPCA's Board member a few days later, and told her how good her employee was. And I got some additional info about hot weather care, because people underestimated how sick their animals could get, and how quickly.

So, what to do as the heat wave continues?
1. Head for the local swimming pool.
2. Get into an air-conditioned building — library, mall, whatever.
3. Drink lots of water, especially if you're working outside. Your body is going to put out a lot of liquid trying to keep you cool, so you need to keep filling up the internal water reservoir.
4. Crawl under a rock, and don't come out until September.
5. Keep your pet in the shade, out of the car, with lots to drink.

I'm serious about this! You people are so sweet, you'd probably melt in about ten minutes. I'd hate to lose any of you. My blog depends on you!

FOCUSED

It was a week or so ago that I wrote about the experience of feeling "diminished" by all the "editing" we are doing in our lives, and our life together. All because we are moving into an apartment which has about half the size of our house, and has little storage space.

A lot of things are going to Village Green (our Mennonite-operated thrift or "goodwill" shop). A lot of paper is being recycled. All of this is good. 

It also means I'm engaged in a process of sorting out what is important.

What do I really want to do in this last stage of my life (my "psychosocial development"), where the virtue is wisdom, and the options are integrity (i.e., wholeness) or despair? (This, according to psychologist Erik Erikson.)

In addition to my personal introspection, I'll continue to work (in one way or another) on ethical projects. Those include health care and animal welfare. But they will also include a closer involvement in issues of poverty, hunger, and homelessness. I may not be able to walk as much at rallies, but my fingers move quickly, and my thoughts can be sharp. (Such things happen when you combine a journalist and an ethicist.)

I'm not changing my commitment to life, and to others around me. To change would mean betraying who and what I have been, and am. What is changing is the manner in which I live out my commitment. But I'm not changing that commitment.

SOME MEETINGS ACTUALLY MATTER! (And they even feel good!)

I realize that, from some peoples' perspectives, I'm about to commit the ultimate heresy.

However, there are some meetings which I go to that are actually worthwhile, and even fun. (I warned you about heresy — I know most meeting are pretty yucky, even at the best of times.)

I'm referring to the Executive of UCACS (The University Committee on Animal Care and Supply). This is the committee which is responsible for the welfare of virtually all the "critters" who "crit" (live) on campus, particularly those involved in research and teaching. (At a University like ours, with multiple biosciences, a lot of animals are involved in a lot of research and teaching.)

Over the last several years, I've gotten to know the people on the committee in a variety of contexts that are all related to our main responsibilities. Some are teachers and researchers, some are administrators, some are technicians. They are all very good at what they do, and they all think creatively. People like Ali, Amanda, Brenda, Colette, Diane, Jane, Ramji (our chair), and others. We all have a high degree of respect for each other, and a very strong sense of collegiality. And these folks are interesting to talk to, in their own right. 

Yesterday morning, we had to meet and deal with a significant problem. (Details aren't important.) We started, as usual, with some pretty light visiting, and a few "bad" jokes from the Bear. (I'm the community representative and formally-trained ethicist in the group, and sometimes the class clown). When we get down to business, we're darned serious, but don't lose our senses of humour or irony. And believe me, there are some strongly ironic moments.

In trying to conclude the matter, I put a motion forward. Long and short of the situation is that my colleagues didn't agree with me. Which is OK. We come from a wide background of experience, which is important, because it really does help us achieve important consensus. And since we see the problem from different perspectives, we can make different comments.

Eventually we arrived at a better solution than I had proposed, and we all apparently felt good about that. A tricky problem solved in roughly three-quarters of an hour.

I cannot speak for the others, but I came away from the meeting feeling good, feeling that we had resolved something in a way that was ultimately in the best interests of individuals and the University.

Not too bad for a meeting that started at 9:00 a.m., when I'm Bearly awake. (I'm retired; gimmie a break, already!)

Yes, it was a good meeting, heresy notwithstanding.

WHOA! WHAT'S HAPPENING?

What is this bright light shining into my den?

What's this puddle of water beside where I'm sleeping?

Spring already?

Can't be; I haven't lost any weight.

OK. I'm out of my den, but the sun is way too bright. It's hard on my eyes. I'll look the other way.

Right. Clear blue sky — gorgeous! Sunny and warm. I'll bet it's 15°C. And the snow is all gone.

Time to stretch way up, and yawn, and shake my head, and try to come alive.

There are a couple of squirrels, running around the spruce trees, checking for any more seed cones.

I hear a chickadee, and a nuthatch. There are two thieving magpies chasing each other, practically right in front of my face. I hear a Blue Jay, right, . . . oh, there he is.

There's a Mountain Ash tree, with quite a few bright orange berries. I must have missed that one. Yeah; I was getting pretty dozy.

Seeing as I'm up, I might as well have something to eat. Those berries will be tasty.

Oh, but I'm stiff already. Grumble, trundle, mumble, trundle, mumble. …

Sigh.

I really hate it when my solar alarm clock goes off at the wrong time!

HIBERNATION (or, Hi-Bear-nation)

Yes, it is getting to be that time of year. Colder temperatures; the arrival of snow. I'm very sleepy, and I'm getting foggy-brained.

Hibernation time. 

I've got a really nice den picked out. The foxes used it over the summer for their family home, but they have moved on. This is good. I've tried it out, again, and it's good!

Unlike some other animals, Bears are not "true" hibernators. We don't really pack it in for the whole winter. Like other animals who go into hibernation, our whole bodies (metabolism) slow down, and we live on stored energy. But, on nice days, we come out of our dens, to stretch and enjoy the sunshine, and maybe grab a snack.

So if you don't see me around as much, don't worry; I've just gone into hibernation. And if I show up at your place, don't panic; it's just too nice a day to be sleeping.

And, lest you be concerned, I've made contingency plans for Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie. She will receive excellent care; no question. She may even come to my den to sleep for the night.

See you in the spring, or perhaps earlier. I hope you have a good winter!

Footnote:
Not only is everything covered with ice and snow, this is the first day on which the high temperature for the day will be zero°C, or less.

IN AUTUMN, A MAN'S MIND TURNS TO …

cleaning up the yard and getting ready for winter. Which I was doing this afternoon at our micro-holding. (For those of you who are not familiar, I think our property is really too small to fit the classic definition of a "small holding"; hence, it's a "micro-holding.")

When I work outside, Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, comes with me. First we play a bit. Then we light a fire, into which I can toss odds and ends of stuff that need to be removed and can be burned.

Then I get down to work. And Miss Sadie waits for me to be done with the work silliness, and come to play — which is the important thing to do outside.

When I need to take a break, we play.

There was a lot of brush to clean up at the back. I didn't take a picture of it, but you can see where the leaves are. That's where the brush was.

And there was some other stuff to clean up, too. Like garbage that blows in from the back lane. (The automated garbage pickup isn't always that thorough.)

It has to be bagged and returned to the garbage, along with bits of glass and metal which uncannily pop up to the surface of the earth from time to time. And I need to do something with Miss Sadie's "leavings" (otherwise called, by some, "doggy-doo").

Then, the wood pile. It was a mess. Now we've got it organized, and partly tarped. The one challenge is that there are mice living under there, somewhere. I only know about them because Miss Sadie keeps trying to find the mice, even climbing up on top of the wood pile.

Last job, cover the rose bush with fallen tree leaves, to protect it over the winter. (This was the first year since we transplanted it to our yard that it actually bloomed.)

We had beautiful magenta roses. I hope we get them again next year.

All in an afternoon's work. Or play (if you see it from Miss Sadie's perspective).

WAKING THE SLEEPING BLOG

NO, I didn't get that wrong. I did not substitute "Sleeping Blog" for "Sleeping Dog." Besides, Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, likes to be woken up, if there's going to be some kind of action — like a walk.

My blog The Ethical Pilgrimage was my first, I think — it goes back to 2007. And while I've branched away from it, I'm going back to it, as I reflect more fully on issues of human and animal care.

Typically, I start things slowly, then "pick up the pace," as I become more confident. I've just been a bit slower than usual with this. OK; a lot slower.

I have many things on which I'm working, and which I want to share. I also have colleagues who are working on things, and who might be persuaded to share some thoughts, via a guest post.

I'm going to be posting something on a recent "medical misadventure" of mine. In the meantime, I'll link in so you can figure out how to reach this new-old location.

Please join me. I would appreciate your company, and your comments.

ASBO-BEAR? (Oh, No; I Hope NOT!)

This could be subtitled "Things I Learned from British Bloggers." This is a bit old, and a bit odd, but I wanted to publish it anyhow. Peculiar creatures, these Bears.

While I'm of British stock, our family is multi-generational Canadian. I know lots of British history (like the fact that the Tudors were Welsh, and that 1066 was the last successful invasion of Britain). I know something about British politics (oh dear, poor Mr. Brown — no, we're NOT related!). I know what people mean when they talk about articulated lorries, lifts, spanners, the loo, and office buildings were the main floor isn't the first floor.

I've also learned about lots of people who have sheep, and utterly amazing gardens, and that courgettes are really zucchinis.

And on your blogs, I've met all kinds of non-human characters. Charlie, Cheyenne, Little Chip, Loyal Hound, Poppy & Misty, and Sparky. And then there's ASBO Jack. Interesting name, I thought. All in capitals. The polar opposite of the non-capitalizing e.e. cummings. Must be a "Wonder Dog," I concluded. Jack as in Jack Russell Terrier (I think).

And at Purple Coo, they even had an ASBO hour (or day), in honour of said Terrier, I'm told. "Wow," I thought, "impressive dog."

Then Zoe, bless her heart, had to straighten me out.

"Here on this side the pond, it is a method to impose curfew, or restrict the activities and places an individual may go when they have been found guilty of anti-social behaviour within their community. The restriction is called an Anti-Social Behaviour Order, hence ASBO."

Well that brings a new meaning to Wonder Dog. More like Anti-Social Wonder Dog. And here I had all these expectations!

As long as I don't get the designation "ASBO Bear," I think I'll be OK. But knowing me, I'm never sure. I have these "defects of character," you see. Or, more appropriately, have seen.

Oh well, a non-musical ditty for the dog days of summer.

GONE YESTERDAY, HERE TODAY (still a bit Loony).

Well, J and I took of for a few days. Enough of sitting around the house in the rain; at least try a new view. So we did. On Anglin Lake. For those of you not familiar with the geography of Saskatchewan, Canada, the lake is on the border between the southern and northern halves of the province. The north is mostly lakes, rivers, swamps and trees (primarily Trembling Aspen, White Birch, Black Spruce, and White Spruce). Think of it as wall-to-wall trees with a few lakes and clearings (and communities) thrown in for contrast.

We went up to see and hear the Loons. Common Loons. Unfortunately, we didn't get close enough for good pictures. However,  I tried to get a few shots.

The most exciting part was to hear them calling. They have four distinct calls; we actually saw and heard them calling when we were on the water. 

In terms of pictures, the stained glass windows at the "very rustic" place we stayed are much prettier than what I could get in our camera.

And yes, the chicks (babies) do ride on their parents' backs for about the first week of their lives. It is the most vulnerable time for parent and chick alike, because the adult cannot dive to save itself from predators with the chick on its back.


For the record, Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, did not come with us on our Loon-seeking adventure. She, being a bird-dog, would probably have wanted to jump in the water and play with them. They would not have been amused, especially when one pair had a chick. 


We had a great time (except for our encounters with the mosquitoes).


I'll have more, in due course.

SILLINESS

We have had a lot of rain where I live. Either rain or clouds almost every day. It's too wet in many places to continue seeding, so the large crop predicted earlier may not materialize. Neither Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, nor I are fond of long walks in the rain right now. And it's all making me a bit silly — waterlogged brain, I think.

So, I have an idea. We should change the name of our province from "Saskatchewan" to "Newyyd Cymru" (New Wales). Wales always gets lots of rain. Right? A more fitting name for us right now, since we've apparently had the wettest spring on record. Sigh! Of course, for New Wales, we would need a LOT of sheep; I'm not certain how that would go over, here in cattle country. 

Oh, yes; Miss Sadie is a year old, today. We'll head out for a celebratory walk in a few minutes.  

DIY OF A DIFFERENT SORT

Despite the freezing weather last night, and the fact that there is still snow on the ground, one member of our community was very busy.

Yup, the resident Beaver was doing his thing,
leaving all the evidence behind.

The really interesting thing was that he decided to drop a tree right beside the walking path, . . .

meaning he (or she) had to climb up a fairly steep 25 foot embankment, drop the tree, and haul all the goods back down.

(This picture doesn't do justice to the steepness of the climb.)

But that wasn't the first time.

The night before, Beaver had been busy too.

J and K (our granddaughter) found this work

when they were walking home to our son's last evening.

This was, actually, just a bit of an afterthought.

 The real prize lay about 50 feet north.

Those six were about the diameter of your forearm. Not small stuff at all. Not only cut, but hauled down to the river.

So far, the lower trail (just a muddy footpath along the river's edge) hasn't been walkable. Now, I'm going to have to go down there and find out where the Beaver's lodge is.

I don't think Beaver will mind a visit from Bear,
though Sadie might be upsetting.

WINTER IS A-COMMIN' IN . . .

Yup. It's getting colder these days. High temperature for the day estimated at around -10°C (or 14°F).

It's snowing lightly now. We've had snow for several days. Pretty soon I'm going to have to go out and shovel the walk. Grr$%@#*&%@rr. (That's Bear-speak for s0mething you can't say in "polite" company.)

The river-bank trail is getting covered.


The near side of the river is still fairly open -- though the ice pans are much larger and thicker.



But the sand bar where the geese hang out is totally covered with snow and ice, while the ice pans on the far side (where the current moves more slowly) are starting to pile up.



Still, the sun is shining -- or at least trying to!


But don't worry; it will get a lot colder before it gets warmer.

I think it's finally hibernation time!

A "POINTED" TALE

Once upon a time in Britannia, there were three different kinds of creatures with spikes or spines for protection.

There were Hedgehogs . . .


there were Porcupines . . .


and there were Echidnas.


All three groups were given the opportunity to travel the world, explore new places, and see if they would like to settle elsewhere.

The Hedgehogs, after considering the matter, declined the invitation.

The Porcupines and Echidnas, however, agreed enthusiastically.

So off they went.

The first stop, to re-provision the ship, was Canada.

The animals look around as saw beautiful forests and lakes.

"Let's go check it out," said the lead Porcupine. So they did.

When the ship was ready to leave, there wasn't a Porcupine to be found anywhere. So the ship left without them. (Frankly, the Porcupines thought that was just fine.)

After a number of stops, the ship finally reached Australia. The Echidnas looked about. Hot and muggy in some parts, showy mountains in other parts, and a desert in the middle. They were not terribly impressed.

"Where to next?" asked the chief Echidna to the captain. The master of the ship replied, "This is the end of the line, matey."

So, one by one, the Echidnas disembarked.

That's why, to this day, you have Hedgehogs in Britain, Porcupines in North America, and Echidnas in Australia (and thereabouts).

Is this story true?

Don't ask me -- what do I know? I'm just a Bear. The only thing I understand is to stay away from critters with pointy things one them.


(Oh, yes; and see what happens in/to my brain when I take my dog for a walk?)
√

LETS GO FOR A WALK (part 2)

For those who like to drive to their local health club or gym for their "physical fits," (or fitness), this will probably be of little interest. While I do, from time to time, stop to take pictures of my world, by time Sadie and I get home from our walk, both my heart rate and respiration rate are up. Is that an aerobic work out? You tell me. I simply draw my inspiration in this matter from Exmoore Jane. You can take it up with her.

§ * § * §

Once we're past the turret house (described in the first part of this adventure tale), it's a simple walk along the trail until we reach the water treatment plant. At that point the trail is closed, and has been for about four years, while there have been renovations to the plant.

Here's the Water Treatment Plant. Buried deep within this complex is the city's old "Filtration Plant." It is made from the same Tyndall stone of which many of our city's major old buildings were constructed. Sadly, many of them have been torn down. The remaining examples are buildings on our university campus.


At the Water treatment plant, we turn left and head west.

Across the street from the water treatment plant is the water department's maintenance building. It used to be a simple garage for housing water department vehicles. Many homes, some dating from the early part of the last century, were expropriated for this maintenance building. As you can see, much of the expropriate land is vacant, or filled with piles of dirt and rubble, Very sad!


As we continue along our walk, we pass by older houses with beautiful gardens and trees.


At the end of this block, we turn left again, and go two block south, until we reach home.

§ * § * §

The one other piece in this story was a question from "Chesrhire Wife," and a very reasonable question: "Do you walk the same route all the time or do you vary it?"

The answer is "usually." Sometimes, for the sake of variety, I take a slightly different route. When there is road construction, I avoid it.

And in the evenings, I stay away from the San Site. There are no lights there, and the path is within 100 yards/metres of dense bush. Teenagers like to party there. But they're not really the problem. The bush is home to skunks (the primary carriers of rabies). And Porcupines (the North American equivalent of hedgehogs or echidnas). And racoons. And deer. And cougars (also known as puma, mountain lion, mountain cat, catamount or panther, depending on the region).


During the last few years, there have been several Cougar sitings well within the city limits. In fact, last year, a cougar was shot (dead) within two block of our grandchildrens' home. Just a bit unnerving, considering that a small child, or dog, would stand no chance if attacked by a mature cougar -- and an adult's chances would be not much better. So Sadie and I tend to be fairly circumspect in terms of where we go in the evnings.

"HEY, SADIE . . .

. . . whats all this white stuff on the ground?"


"I dunno, Nuala; tastes kinda like water, but it's cold."

"Sure is slippery, too, Sadie!"


Such was our puppies introduction to snow. Environment Canada had been saying for several days we might get a few snow flurries on Thursday, When I was out with the puppies at noon, I think I counted four snow flakes -- almost too small to see. "Yeah," I figured, "that's the snow we were promised." But when I woke up following my afternoon nap, we had a few more flakes than I had imagined.

That didn't stop the puppies from chasing round and playing in it, and having a dandy time.


Although the whole experience caused Sadie to stop for a moment and try to figure out exactly what was happening in her world.


Meanwhile Environment Canada is promising more of the same today, with temperatures of -2°C (wind chills as low as -9°C). It's a bit cool for me, but the puppies are wearing their fur coats, so I don't know that it makes a whole lot of difference to them.

But any crops that haven't been harvested ae going to take a real beating from this.

Oh, yes; I have to get out and shovel the sidewalks, too.
√

HEALTH AND FITNESS TIPS (2)

Last week, I gave you my first "Health and Fitness Tip." Summer is drawing to close, what better time to focus on being healthy and shapely? So the Bear is sharing the second lesson in the program.

1. Cradle your 15 pound dog in your arms, in front of you. (Dogs are now too big to hold in a single arm).

2. With feet shoulder-width apart (or slightly wider), and back straight, slowly bend your knees until you're in a kind of squatting position. (Don't go down too far -- you may not be able to get back up.)

3. Raise yourself to a full standing position. Do this several times a day.

Excellent cardio workout; ideal for flattening the tummy.

Recommended by the dynamic duo of Nuala and Sadie (who get to alternate).

Danger: do not attempt this until you have successfully completed lesson one, and survived. If you've waited too long to start lesson one, forget this program. Lesson one is only for people who have gone to the small dogs.

HEALTH AND FITNESS TIPS

I know it is summer, but what better time to stay healthy and shapely? So the Bear has developed a new fitness program. Here's the first lesson.

1. Cradle a 10 pound dog in your left arm (between elbow and hand).

2. Cradle a 10 pound dog in your right arm (between elbow and hand).

3. Walk up and down a flight of stairs (say a dozen stairs) multiple times a day.

Excellent cardio workout; ideal for flattening the tummy.

Recommended by the dynamic duo of Nuala and Sadie.

Lesson two next week (if you've done lesson one, and survived).

THE PATTER OF LITTLE . . . PAWS

Our time of "expecting" is over. The twins have arrived.

This is Nuala (pronounced NEW-lah)

This is Sadie (SAY-dee)

Because of municipal ordinances, we've had to disguise our Bear babies as Standard Poodles. (Our civic administration is very particular about what sorts of animals can be kept within the bounds of our community. One neighbour had a goat -- yup, a goat -- just across the back lane from us. Said neighbour was told, in no uncertain terms, "that goat's got to go!" No sense of humour whatsoever in our city's bureaucracy.)

The twins were born June 11th, two of a litter of seven, thought they arrived at our house just the day before yesterday (Thursday). They both weigh about five kilos (roughly ten pounds); Sadie is slightly larger than Nuala, though you can't tell through all that fluff. Nuala tends to stick with G3 (aka Momma-bear), while Sadie hangs out with me. Sadie can climb the stairs already, after about a day of occasional training. We anticipate Nuala will catch up quite soon. They have been good about teaching us their needs, and we're having fewer "accidents" all the time.

We'll keep you posted (from time to time) on what's happening.

BEAR ON THE BRIDGE

This story came to me from "dragonesque" Wendy of Curiouser and Curiouser. She says it came from a friend. I asked her about posting this e-mail to my blog, and she replied that she thought " it is just perfect for your page!" So, Thanks to Wendy, and her friend. . . .


This bridge is on the Old Donner Pass Highway in California, USA.
√
√

A bear was walking across Rainbow Bridge ( Old Hwy 40 at Donner Summit) on Saturday when two cars also crossing the bridge scared the bear into jumping over the edge of the bridge.
√
Somehow the bear caught the ledge and pulled itself to safety.
√
Authorities decided that nothing could be done to help Saturday night so they returned Sunday morning to find the bear sound asleep on the ledge.
√
√
√After securing a net under the bridge the bear was tranquilized, fell into the net, lowered, then woke up and walked out of the net.
√
√
√
√
√

There is, said the original writer, a moral to this story you know:

This old bear made a wrong move and found he was hanging by his nails.
Somehow he was able to pull himself up onto the ledge where he saw he was in a very bad, impossible situation and what did he do? Yep, he took a nap and sure enough the situation took care of itself while he was asleep.

The moral ? ....when confronted with a bad situation sometimes the best solution is to take a nap!

That's a moral with which this ol' Rob-bear certainly agrees!

MOMMY BLOGGERS VS. ANIMAL BLOGGERS

As I travel through the blogsphere, I notice various groups of "Mommy Bloggers." They talk about kids, and accomplishments, and breast feeding, and pets (sometimes), and diapers/nappies, and all kinds of things, including menopause (or "metal pause."). Which is all very good.

There is another group, however, that is equally deserving of respect, honour, and general recognition. I'm talking about the "Animal Bloggers."

For example:
1. There's me, Rob-bear -- a bear trapped in a human body; I oversee a bird "maternity ward."
2. There's Charlie, who appears from time to time of "Reasons to be Cheerful, 1,2,3."
3, There's Lucky, who used to be a regular contributor to "Life is Good."
4. There's the "Asbo-lutely" amazing Exmoor pooch, who can make decisions on issues too difficult for humans.
5. There's Poppy and Misty, who receive a great deal of French Fancy.
6. There's Sparky, and Charlie, who live in a haunted Northumbrian farm.
7. There's the Blog Fodder, who looks like a total jack-ass, but who is a lot brighter than he appears (and who shares his home with those delightful characters Bobil and Volk, as well as the evil Chuhma).
8. There's Montel, who's a regular star on "Buggering Crap Monkeys."
9. There's Vicki, often featured on "A Mandolyn and Ky."
10. There's Henry the Dog, who has his own blog.
And I'm sure there are many others.

Think of it. We could decide on our own special name.

Some among the more talented of us could develop a special badge we could put in our sidebars.

We would finally receive the respect and honour that we are due. (Even if we talk about our animals only from time to time.)

The time has come for action. Animal bloggers of the world, unite!