Adventure - Hay Bay

Memories permeate this space. My brother’s spirit lives on in love and creation. Everywhere I look I see the discussions of him and his wife and their decisions for which tree or blossom went where. This is the canvas of their love and family.  The final retouch to a life long work of incredible art.  

Mundane some might say.  Family and Rockwell and Hallmark cards.  This brother of mine I knew and loved from childhood on was always a genius, a nerd before nerds. I loved his filing cabinet in our shared childhood bedroom. H was the only kid I knew who had a filing cabinet filled ideas,  projects and plans alphabetized, costed. Articles cut out and added to thoughts.   I remember when we were all into rock and roll he was listening to 78 records on an old gramaphone he’d brought home as a teen  from some dusty second hand store, the hig old machine and a whole collection from 30’s and 50’s. Symphonies and Fats Waller.  All the weird old greats. He’d get his motorcycle back then too but later he’d work on car engines. Always fixing things. Always building and creating. 

He met his beautiful wife in church. I remember him coming home starry eyed. The soprano. Then it Billy Graham and the spirit filled days of Baptist Revival. I was listening to John Lennon and he was listening to Elvis Presley and gospel.  He was the good son.   I was the black sheep but he always had my back.  Always helping.  Always a rock. 

Here there are buildings and boats.  It’s a few acres with  a big house with the thoughtful touches of love in every nook and cranny.  The choice of light switches. The choices of color for paint on walls. It all works. Each space has comforting whole.  There’s lots of windows, lots of space, lots of light.  I like the light rugs on floors, the fireplace in the living room, the glass chandelier over the mahogany dining table. .  

He died here. I was there when he couldn’t hold on and finally  let go.   He’d  have his last breaths in the nearby hospital hospice surrounded by  white.   

Here I’ll always remember him standing on the front lawn standing tall and strong pointing out swans on the lake  talking about my father and mother. He and his wife did the lion’s share of caring for them in their old age.   My brother was a big man. A commanding man.  He also had a tremendous sense of humor and joy.  In town shopping with him he’d chat and laugh with shops keepers and baristas.   He raised fish and had grand salt water tanks in  room where the guitars he collected stood  amidst photography equipment and a library of books from college, work and endless curiosity. 

His sons were his soul.  He always spoke of them and his wife.  This was his home.

I’m here now breathing the air he breathed wondering at the sights he saw, enjoying the contribution he made to this world.  I’m so blessed to have had such a brother and to be part of this family.

His wife Adell continues to manage the property they so loved. With her oldest son,  she’s been cutting down trees to address a bark disease.  The wing on the house my brother and she envisioned  is finished, elegant yet cozy.. So is the sitting gazebo where the sailboats stood by the shore.  I imagine him looking down with pride and approval.  

His oldest son , now a nuclear engineer has computers and cameras and telescopes cluttering a working space.  I remember my father and brother and I lying on the lawn in front of our childhood home as they pointed out the constellations in the sky to me. Years later I’d  navigate my sailboat on the vast Pacific looking at the endless stars . Now  this is this bearded man I met as a baby in his mothers arms. He is photographs cosmic events, at night taking pictures he publishes while in the day he works in plasma physics. 

The skies are vast here.  The stars were majestic and happy over Hay Bay at night.  

This morning a couple of huge white swans swam by the dock.  Geese and goslings have taken over that stretch of beach. We’ve been keeping the dogs up here so as not to disturb the parents.  Back from the lake  the property is wooded and populated with rabbits.  I saw a downy wood pecker and a black and red cardinal. A couple of crows are quite raucous.My sister in law told me of the foxes they saw. Yesterday walking the dogs we spooked three white tails and watched them bound off towards Nick the carpenter sculpture guitarists fields.  As we walk the dogs Adell tells me of the comings and going of neighbours. She says she learns most from the folk she plays pickle ball with twice a week in the nearby town. 

It’s a wonderland here. Ontario at its finest. The real Ontario, unique and old, not the  pavement high rise, angry city Ontario.  Those homogenities are increasingly like any city ghetto in the world, Toronto annd Ottawa like Istanbul, New York, LA.  Cities.  Human order annd control .  Homogenized with traffic, crowds,  fast food and loud.   Here there’s elegance and charm.  There’s touches of wilderness. Nature. People all about here have built their own homes,   defined their estates and expressed  culture and love in a Frank Lloyd Wright sort of way. .  This is old Canada.  My brother loved to drive by the lakes and tell me tales from hundreds of years ago. He pointed out  Mohawks , Red Coats and Loyalists fought Americans. We sailed the lake together. He kayaked Hay Bay. I fished with his youngest son now a doctor with a baby expecting. I’d visited the genious middle son with his beautiful creative loving wife,  their two amazing sons , the great nephews. They made me a great uncle and  remind me of their father and brother were this age and I played with them.  That was when my brother and sister in law lived in the home on the river another city by the university.    

There are three dogs here. Cockapoos.  My cousin Wayne who built his own log cabin and raised Appaloosas in the north had a cockapoo who rode with him in his truck.  Later I’d invite a cockapoo into my home. That was Gilbert now deceased. My dad called him , Monkey Dog.   Today I have Madigan, Gaelic for Little Dog.  He’s enjoying visitting his cousins Eva and Pepper. They are all a going concern. Growing up my brother and I had Sunny, a liver springer spaniel.  He’d reside under the kitchen table at meals.  Mom and dad would tell us not to feed him there while my brother and I watched as the two adults each sneaked him morsels.  Dogs and kids and home

It’s peaceful here.  The dogs have me up at 6 or 7.  It was rainy and dreary a couple of days but today the sun is up with blue sky and the occasional fluffy white cloud. King Charles is speaking in Ottawa Parliament today. President Trump is visitting the G7 meeting in Alberta next week or the week after. I’ll be driving home with my camper and truck towing  my hard bottomed inflatable fishing boat with Honda 30 hp four stroke. I’d had it shipped here with my big yacht when my brother became sick and I wanted to be with him.  We had some years but not enough. I miss him..  I miss my mother and father and aunt and uncles and grandparents. I was thankful that Adell had us visit my cousin.  She is older than my brother would have been. She was in hospital recovering from a fall fracture. We reminisced.  We’d all taken trips to Europe and talked of relatives in Scotland and Ireland.  The Art Professor , the BBC Correspondent, the Audubon photographer. The old country.  Here we are in the ‘new’ country while plans are being made to colonize Mars.   We drove home stopping at the Big Apple celebrating all the orchards of this fertile cultivated region, rich in agriculture, families and civilization.  Maple syrup and everything apple.  

Now big grey squirrels are crossing the great lawn. Eva insists on barking to repel the invaders.  Pepper joins in and Madigan follows till they depart and the house is safe from attack once again.  They don’t think we appreciate all they have done for us keeping the squirrels away.

I’m of an age where memories are all blossoming. Long ago I didn’t know the ugly roots or boring stems would be needed for these glory days of full grown plants with flowers and fruit.  It’s all so colorful today. I once remembered most the black and white days.  Now I really have to suck on the tit of despair and cry poor me to dwell in that morass. Today I’m more humble.  I’m daily focused on gratitude.  Now the past is colorful with light and  pastels.  I love the impressionist era of art.  My brothers home is Monet and Van Goht. The family is Rembrandt. I see glimpses of Klimt in my personal life.  For sure the group of Seven is here at Hay Bay.   

Thank you God for this day, for my brother and his family, for my father and mother, grand parents and all those who have gone before, the workers, the doers, builders and lovers. And of course, I thank you for the dogs, the birds, fish and stars.  

Adventure - family

How wonderful it was to see my nephew, handsome, tall, humorous man I’d first met when he was just a baby.  Here he was now with his own son, a boy who was delighted to explore my little house much like my little dog a kindred spirit.  He checked out every aspect of this new place with Madigan the dog enthralled by this new playmate. 

As adults my nephew and I laughed at the two of them together, instant friends.  

We’d drive back to their home and meet the  younger nephew and my nephew’s beautiful wife. She’s quite dazzling. Once in the house the  boys and dog ran about the halls and rooms, the boys leading and the dog chasing. He was so happy,  part of the pack.  ‘They do this whenever anyone brings over their dog,’ she said , as the three slid by on the hard wood floor.  

We had Macdonald’s he’d bought on the way home. He been telling me of the new train station and the horse show, the development of the neighborhood. The chasing and gleeful voices were interrupted for only for a moment while the boys digged in to Happy Meals and the dog wolfed down his meat patty. Then the sliding and chasing began a new before fort building with cushions took over in the basement. 

I ‘d been to their house and enjoyed seeing it again. It reminded me of my brother’s house not so far away.  A little smaller but with similar stories.  I liked the bay windows and enjoyed the boys interacting with their mother and father. What a beautiful family.  I just enjoyed being there seeing them and thinking how my brother who died too young would be so proud of his son.  

The last time I was there my nephew showed me a computer he’d build much more powerful than those off the shelf. Now he showed me 3 d printing and resin and wire and explained this complex latest project.  I could only think his grandfather, the engineer, would be so impressed with.  I liked the interior change since I last was here, large pictures of boys faces done recently, a couch with fold away bed like our Aunt Sally had for her guests.  “Your mother gave it to us.” She said. 

The kids were coming and going with the dog  following behind.  My nephews work was government confidential so we didn’t talk work. We didn’t talk religion or politics but rather chatted like old friends.  Surprisingly I’d forgotten meeting the littlest one as a baby.  I don’t know how I did that but the mother showed me a picture.  I texted my friend Laura who’d been with me and asked if s she remembered Of course. “He was very small.’ She texted.  Mothers and grandmothers remember.   And there was I in the picture holding the wee baby. And it all  came back to me, sitting on their veranda in the back yard.  I’d been watching the older one running about the back yard playing with the dog.  Now I  remembered so well. Now I remembered this baby I’d cradled in my arms, now a blond  happy child playing with his brother.  One or the other would intermittently break off and  come to their mother or father to be hugged or touched throughout the day. Not so different from my dog who’d want or need a break from time to time.  The parents were so calm, the children with so much higher energy and moods swinging like leaves on a tree.

I was thankful that God let me be apart of this loving family to see these brilliant healthy lively children in this fabulous home where there was no alcohol, drugs, rage or  bombs and gunbsots  sounding outside. Instead there was love and creativity and community.  “It’s been a busy weekend , “ she said, “Friends have been dropping in with their dogs and kids all this long weekend.” A happy place.  My nephew and she laughed telling a story of friends with small children and and a dog and some amusing tale.

About then my other nephew arrived to pick me up.  My dog went  on guard barking up a storm . That nephew surrounded by kids calling uncle annd barking dog quieted my annnoying mutt with soothing words and tone,   the psychologist in him gentling the confused mutt who very quickly joined the uncle love fest.   The brothers talked as  hugs were shared all around. It was anll cryptic to me putting on shoes annd jacket thinking these men have a language between them where tone and words conveyed volumes more than AI could record. I’d said the same to the couple as they spoke to each other with that language of respect and love they shared, A bubble of intimacy like the old Get Smart spy bubble. The dog was okay again happy to be going outside despite h having to leave his little friends. They’d   included him like one of theirs. Now he was excited to be going on to our next adventure.

 My younger nephews wife was in the front seat, pregnant. She had that glow.Seven and a half month.  Serenity coupled with readiness.  To his dismay we dropped off my dog at the camper and drove onto Milestone’s Restaurant.  A lovely place. I confess I enjoyed watching her walk, the slightly wider based gait,  and distinctive appearance.  As a young man I’d delivered a hundred babies and said, “Your doctors must be very pleased with you,” She had that look of robustness and health , and that look that spoke of the likeliest to have a good delivery. I remembered her mom and sister fondly meeting them all one Christmas at my brother’s home.  I thought of my sister in law and what a great mother she was.  She loved her sons and grandsons and these girls. I missed my brother.   

I fear I talked too much.  I don’t know why.  They work in the same institutions I worked and more than wanting to teach or warn I just felt that maybe they’d understand. I feel alone so much with what I do. I realized too that with divorces and childless marriages I felt that these two were in the centre balancing home and work life. They did talk about their new home and their work. He described fixing things up and the two of them described gardening. I couldn’t help but think of my parents, Dad always doing projects about the home and mom so involved in her garden.  My brother and sister in law had followed in this too. I spoke of my mother and brother’s involvement in the horticultural clubs and my grandfather the rancher and the cousin who raised Appalusias and built his own log cabins. It’s part of tradition. 

I saw so much of the older ones in these young ones.  I thought how proud my mother and father would have been of their grand children and great grandchildren. What a legacy they’d bestowed. 

I told them of finding my mother’s great grandfather’s grave and the family grave behind the little church in Northern Ireland.  I remember those grave stones going back hundreds of years. Now here was the family going forward. I was so thankful to be  here and now, missing my brother, missing my parents and grandparents but knowing they were always here. We are not alone.  I felt my brother and father looking through my eyes. There was this crowd of aunts and uncles and old folks looking over their shoulders  too.  I remembered the big family of old folk all white haired  gathered to meet me when I came to visit.  They remembers their sister boarding a ship to cross the sea and I’d flown across to return.  Family. Stretching backwards and forwards and out to all the sides.  

It felt good not to be alone. I liked everyone playing with my dog including him and seeing him so happy.  I felt like him and was thankful.  Part of a family, part of a pack, a tribe, the best of humanity. 

Trail and rules of the road

I just returned from a trail walk. Only one uncivilized person.  Perhaps ignorant is a better word.  Barbarian.  Bully.

On a trail with two directions, it can be divided by half.  This fellow took up more of the road than his half.  He was using 2/3’s of the road and going too faster than usual.  

He was alone and I was with a dog.  IF we break up a road into 2 then subdivide it into 4 then he was pushing me or the dog off the road.  Prick. Low brow. Thug.

Often I am walking with my dog and three cyclists don’t drop back into two and one or single file but hoard the road like thieves.  Four cyclists who do this are the worst.  But four other walkers as a group will take up the road and play chicken , not readjusting their group till they are right upon me and my dog. Often I recognise their social immaturity at a distance and step to the side of the walk.  They pass in a line.  The girls are giggling and commonly passive aggressive or self absorbed cunts who were simply unaware where as the guys who do this tend to be aware but bring ‘macho’ in that way children play for dominance.  I haven’t killed anyone on the trails recently simply because the effort of burying the bodies seems too much.  Easier to step aside and let the brain deficient pass.  With all the drugs around such behaviours are often just drugs.  Frontal lobe, the area of good judgement, turned off by whatever mental wanker agent is the flavour of the month or individual choice.  Zombies.  Silly people.

I walk the dog and the two of us avoid confrontations. I have to worry about the little guy getting hurt.  I have to worry about me hurting someone.  I rarely think about getting hurt myself dealing with people. I think with age I’d thought it’s a good day to die and that I really don’t have a second round in me so it’s gonna be over as quickly as I can make it because I just don’t have the stamina I once did.  Mostly the dog doesn’t like danger.  He’s a little guy and we go for a walk to stay or get fit and he likes the entertainment of a wealth of smells.  

Bullies and idiots, male and female and other , they have different agendas. I try to avoid letting their sickness or putrid personalities interfere with our getting through our walk. I like it best when we’re alone or other civilized people are walking or cycling along the trail.  The majority are toilet trained and out of diapers but there’s always one or two.  I wished I thought more of those who do the right thing and are godly rather be distracted by the satanic spawn of anal breeding.  

Have a great day. I just came home from a great walk with the dog.  

Song for 2020

G

Looking for God and the Holy Spirit

C

Calling for Love in the Name of Jesus

G

Hallelujah

D

Hallelujah

C

Hallelujah

G

Praise the Lord

G

Thank you Lord for the new year coming
C

Thank you Lord for the old year going

Hallelujah.....

Thank you Lord for Dogs and Rifles

Thank you Lord for Motorcycles

Hallelujah......

Thank you Lord for mountain streams

Thank you Lord for air that’s clean

Hallelujah.....

Thank you Lord for laughing children

Thank you Lord for loving women

Hallelujah

Looking for God and the Holy Spirit

Looking for Love in the Name of Jesus

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Praise the Lord.

St. James Church, God Kids and White Spot

Laura and I were glad to get to St. James Anglican Church on Sunday.  Father Kevin was presiding. We joined the God Kids and Kevin and Anna in the ‘children’s section’ of the church.  Gilbert believes he’s one of the kids totally.  It’s a rather active part of the church and more noisy.  Franciscan meditative sorts would be wise to sit more at the front.  It’s hard to believe that for Kevin and Anna this is a peaceful time. Gilbert joined right in with the kids play, though didn't understand the colouring book deal.
A lovely church service as always.  Gilbert took great interest in the preparation for communion. He’s usually only so attentive when there are other dogs in church. Something about this particular preparation had his attention. He’d also been a bit miffed because the children didn’t share their biscuit with him and he was a bit pouty being excluded from the feast.  Not one to hold a grudge for more than a second he was delighted to join us as we all headed up for communion.  Gilbert’s been blessed by the Bishop.  Often there are 2 or 3 other dogs attending, all very well behaved.
After church there’s usually a coffee. I used to attend these more when Bear, a black lab friend of Gilbert’s presided at the coffee and cookie affair.
Today though, we all went off to White Spot. It’s always such a great time to get together with these amazing two people, Kevin and Anna, their fabulous children.  Anna and Laura talked mother talk, Anna a mother of three pre schoolers while Laura has 3 adult children as well as grandchildren.  Kevin and I talked politics, theology and philosophy.  The kids crayoned. Then we all feasted, burgers, fish and chips and other choices. White Spot is a great Vancouver after church tradition.  Family oriented but not the "free for all" some ‘kid oriented’ places are. We had a wonderful time. I sure did. Even when Anna beat me to the cheque paying. That was very nice though we insist on paying normally. The Christian tradition has always been to support the young family. When we as elders are unable to walk or work then the young people can pick up the slack.
I loved seeing my own young nephews caring for my brother and sister in law last month when my brother was in palliative care.   Those young people were truly incredible being there for my brother always.  He told me before he died that all he wanted was time with his family.
Laura and I talk of the love that Kevin and Anna share.  We all met through Elizabeth and Phil, another couple of the great loves of our time, a marriage made in heaven.  So here, we were after church enjoying, Sunday and family and friends.
I’d dropped Gilbert off on the way there.  Restaurants haven’t quite caught up with Christian wisdom,  which acknowledges a dog's place being under the  dining table.  (Mark 7:28)
 Jesus Christ was present though.   That made all the difference.

Hay Bay Humans and Easter

You might think the Hays were Zoroastrian with our love of dogs.  But no, Adell and I actually got to the Trinity United Church and very much enjoyed the sermon, worship, song and communion.  A very upbeat welcoming church.  Perfect for Easter Sunday. He is risen! He is risen!.
Adell made fabulous meals as usual. She even gave a deep felt grace at Easter dinner.  We had a delicious dinner of meat and cheese fondue.  It was good to be together as a family.  Best of all, my brother Ron was at the head of the table.  Mom and Dad, were they alive today, would have been so proud of him.
I remember a colourful gorgeous African lady I met at an Azerbaijan Pro Life conference with Dr. Phillip Ney.  She said to me, “We Africans judge the wealth of a man by the number and success of his children.”   Ron’s three sons are riches beyond compare.  Adell and he are amazing parents. I remember them being so when the children were small. Everytime I spoke with them or visited, their children were centre of their lives.  They set the finest example and these men  today are the finest of citizens.
The youngest, Alan, doing his masters in child psychology, is highly sensitive and has a huge heart. I suspect he gets that more from his child teacher loving school principal mother.  Ron while really big hearted was always more the scientist and pragmatist.  With my engineer father he’d work on cars. At school following in his wake I’d hear of his exploits in the sciences.  He was a really smart guy, a real problem solver and truly courageous.  I’ll never forget him riding his little Yamaha 125 cc motorcycle across the country and stories of the ride through northern Ontario bear country.  He and Adell met in church and their love was radiant.  Then the amazing children came along with all their individual characteristics.
Alan's girlfriend, Meagan accompanied him.  I’d met Meagan before and really liked her.  Very bright and beautiful. I liked her mother and sister too.  So she’s pretty great to have around.  Allan stands taller. That’s what’s important.  Eva is his cockapoo and she adores him.  Somehow Eva likes the game chase and she’s got such an attitude.  Allan, or anyone for that matter calls her, and she sits down waiting patiently for them to come to her.  Allan walks the other way and she suddenly bursts into speed to be with him. Then she cuddles with the other love of her life, Adell.  Gilbert is probably the third love of her life but Pepper is definitely now in close competition. The girls have to stay together.
Graeme today is an engineer. He’s working in nuclear energy in Deep River after spending his first years in work with the fusion energy plant in Ottawa.  He makes movies for a hobby. I find this fun given my father’s love the 8 mm movie camera.  He had one of those little machines which cut and spliced film. Add to that my Dad’s scottish ancestry and thriftiness resulted in a collage of half minute clips of our childhood in the home movie days.  There’s Ron playing hockey, then mom getting out of the car, then the dog chasing me in the toboggan. Lots of movie camera as glorified still camera which brief clips of people waving at dad and his movie camera.  Ron continued with still pictures which he and Graeme do. But Graeme actually makes movies.  Straw films are productions with actors and props and sets and lots of lighting.  He even enters them for competitions which are by the looks of it a whole lot of fun for everyone involved.
His new puppy, Pepper was the centre of attention this Easter weekend.  She’s just adorable. The baby Hay that everyone couldn’t get enough of.  Well, the adults, she bugged the big dogs with her bottomless energy nipping at their ears, romping and chasing.
Tanya, Andrews beautiful, talented (and sometimes truly hilarious wife) brought Conan the Labradoodle with them.  He burst galumphing on the scene happy to be a part of everything delighted with the little dogs, and people, and life ,the universe and everything.  I saw Tanya first.  In the background Andrew was walking his robot.  It’s quite something to see.  A rover that follows him by remote control. He’s using it for some obtuse purpose.  It’s part of his masters work at university.
Ron meanwhile was working on his huge saltwater tank which with fish and crabs and shrimp and coral looks exactly like the reefs I scuba dived on in the tropics.  It’s like model makers, a true work of art but not just something one visits for a dive, it’s there all the time. At night the whole aquarium takes on a different character. I”ve always liked fish tanks but never made it from the fresh water tropical fish tanks to the complex chemistry environment my brother is fascinated with.  Both of us have chemistry in our background. His took him to agricultural, food science.  Now he enjoys managing this amazing underwater life ecosystem.
The weather was ambivalent while I was there, a sunny day that cleared away any remnant of snow followed by icy sleet and a scattering of snow that left the next day. Hay Bay was free of ice.  Ducks and geese and swans passed the property beyond the beach.  Tulips and crocuses were showing. Ron was watching the temperature and hoping it wouldn’t freeze his buds which had taken all the hot weather as indication to come. He’s planted an orchard of fruit trees. With the dogs we walked about the property looking at the trees and enjoying the best of civilized country living.
We visited Bath and Loyalist Cove Marina.  We shopped in town a bit.  We visited Ron’s aquarium store, Total Aquatics.  I liked the pharmacist we met across the street.  I’m used to doing this maintenance foraging alone but here it was a way to visit with Ron, or Adell or Alan.  The car rides were more tourist outings especially with Ron who loved to show me the special views he’d found.  Adell pointed out the goats. I liked the burrows.  Endless sky too.  Friendly rolling hills.
When it came time for me to go my plane was cancelled due to high winds. I was disappointed. It meant patients wouldn’t be seen and work would be backed up.  Colleagues would have to cover.  There’s so much work to get away for even a few days and so much work to make up when I come back from even a few days.  And Ron was tired. I felt badly about putting him out.  There’s only so much reserve. I know it’s lovely to see guests come but it’s always been even as good to see them go. And here was Ron having to deal with his brother and his CTScan appointment and all that anxiety.
I got away in the morning and Ron got in early for his CTScan so it all worked out. I even made it to the afternoon clinic so my colleagues and patients weren’t too put out.
All’s well that ends well.
Easter at Hay Bay was a special family time even if everything went to the dogs.

 
 

Gilbert, Dog of Dogs

Thank you God for Gilbert. He’s 6 years old today. I remember bringing this little bit larger than my hand fluff ball home from the US.  That’s right he’s an American citizen.  Now he’s Canadian.  He’s run and jumped and rolled in dead fish and cow poo.  He goes with me everywhere.  I loved those first days he rode on my motorcycle with me in a pouch I wore over my shoulder. Then he graduated to his own box on the back seat. That’s how we rode together to Sturges North Motorcycle Rally where he sat under my chair listening to Burton Cummings singing all those great songs of Canada.
He sailed with me too. Never bothered by the boat heeling over or waves smashing across the deck, he was there with me.  He did like the little dinghy rides ashore though.  Lifting his leg and marking his territory like he was planting a flag on the moon.  Never a fighter always a lover, he’d bark at any one who wasn’t friendly and alert us all to possible danger.  Well, he did growl back and stand his turf against that big pitfall I pulled off the little guy one day. I picked that big dog off my little guy and threw him at his surreptitiously gloating master.  Gilbert knew I had his back. That guys smirk was a thing of the past.
But the best thing is to see this brilliant little dog find a grouse in the woods.  When the guys and I have been hunting it’s only because of him we get all the birds we shoot. Then he flushes them too. He even began retrieving them last year despite their being bigger than his head.  A regular little trooper. A great part of the hunting teams.  Not much help with moose and bear but still a great companion.  
Every day he’s excited in the morning.  Without him I’d forget it’s a NEW DAY!!  HOORAY! It’s a new day. His enthusiasm for almost everything is infectious.  The fact is he’s my back up alarm clock. If I don’t wake up he’s there to lick my face and pounce up and down on my chest.  It’s impossible to stay in bed with him snuggling and kissing me.
Twice a day and more he takes me for long walks.  Lots of times I’m just wandering around in nature enjoying the great Canadian outdoors because I know he does.  What a great guy to take camping.
He surely loves his friends. First and foremost he just loves Laura. She cared for him first when I had to be away, spoiling him with treats and back rubs.  All my friends have bought him toys.  He’s the richest toy dog I know. And little hand knit sweaters and jackets.  What a handsome guy.  His blue and green Canucks hockey sweater gets him cheers from passing cars as we walk down the street.
But mostly he’s a therapy dog.  Everyday he comes to work with me and brightens the day of my depressed patient.  One little old man had withdrawn so far that humans couldn’t reach him but month after month Gilbert jumped on his lap and licked his ears till one day he talked.  He’s brought smiles to those who no one knew they’d ever remember.  My dad called him “Monkey Dog”.  He’s such a squirmy happy little guy.
We fly WestJet , in the main cabin,  to visit the family.  He runs for days with his cousin cockapoo, Eva, on my brother’s property on Haybay  near Napanee.
When I took him to St. James Church, I asked Father Mark if he was welcome.  Father Mark said, ‘we love dogs here. Of course..  You, though, we’ll accept on his recommendation.”  We laughed. Eventually the Bishop blessed Gilbert.
Today it’s Gilbert’s birthday.  6 years old and I hope another dozen more.   Thanks for being there for me, pup.  I love you