Meet Marley

I know this might seem silly but who cares!

After a leisurely morning and breakfast, Robert and I decided to drive out to Bruderheim, a small town about an hour outside of Edmonton to meet Angello's children.

Regular readers will recall the story about Angello's first and only encounter.

Well that produced 4 offsprings - three girls and one boy.

The deal with my friend, the gentle giant whose name incidentally is also Robert, was that the pick of the litter would be mine. "If you decide not to keep it, then you will get whatever amount of money it's sold for," Robert assured me.

At the time of making this deal, I had mixed feelings about whether to keep my pup or sell it. "The money would be nice," I thought, given how much I had recently paid and continue to pay for medical/veterinary care for Angello.

Abigail, my daughter, from the outset thought I should keep the pup. In fact, she toyed with the idea of taking one herself but quickly realised that she could not - her apartment does not allow pets and she really is not up to the responsibility.

As the mother went into labour, the gentle giant called me. "Sapphire is having puppies," he declared. For the next 5 - 7 hours, I called every hour on the hour, just as I did the day Angello was trying to get the deed done.

After the first two were born, I declared to my friend, "the third one is mine."


Well fate would have it that the third was not only a male but the only one in the litter. To top it off, of the four pups the mother finally delivered, the third was the only one that totally resembled Angello!

In that moment I knew my boy was not for sale.

Few weeks passed and my career path begun to take a curve - with the possibility of me moving to another town increasing. Robert and I have been discussing the implications of this on our relationship - some days practically and on other days emotionally charged.

With things still up in the air - "living in the grey" I like to call it - we decided to drive out this afternoon to see the dogs.

Just as it was 8 years ago with his Dad, once I laid eyes on him I knew that he was coming home with me - wherever that will end up being.

Robert obviously felt the same way as he took so many pictures and was cooing over him (and the others) like he is the Dad!

On the drive home we talked about names. I had come up with Junior - got it? Angello Junior? Abigail did not think it so cool a name and Robert shared her opinion.

So I allowed myself to be overruled and Robert named him Marley. His argument for that is that the pup is part Jamaican and that name is almost synonymous with my country of origin. Please forgive him - he's fully Canadian but he's cute :)

Meet Marley. He is cute too.

Life is good and miracles do happen.

And we are going shopping for the puppy next week :)

Blessings,

Claudette

Don't Stress

“From the mouth of babes…,” the Bible says and even though physically one may not be able to describe my daughter, Abigail who is now 20 years old, a ‘babe’ (unless you are referring to her “hotness”) wisdom indeed pours out of her mouth.

Take the latest piece of advice she gave me as we spoke on Messenger early this fine Sunday morning (yes, I am totally into this virtual world – with various messaging applications, Facebook, skype – you name it, I will get it!).

We had spent the previous day enjoying our favourite mother/daughter activities – shopping and making more Christmas cakes. It was late when we were done and as we bundled up to go into the cold for me to transport her home, she noticed for the first time what I have been telling her about my/our dog Angello.

Side bar: There has always been confusion about who is the true owner of Angello – the Shi Tzu/Pomeranian cross dog that my ex purchased for me over seven years ago. We had another Shit Tzu – Betty – who I had purchased for my ex some three or so years prior to that. That’s a funny story – the purchase of Betty.

I was driving home from our office – we ran a small and growing public relations firm back then – and came to a halt behind a garbage truck. I noticed a brown and white ‘thing’ hanging through the window and curiosity got the better of me. So I swung out and pulled up beside the truck and realized it was a mangy looking shaggy hair all in knots dog.

Without a second thought, I shouted up to the driver who was holding this thing, “how much do you want for it?” We wheeled and dealed and 15 minutes later, he was driving away with my cheque and I with the flee-filled “thing” on my front seat. I will never, never forget the look on my ex’s face when I presented the flea bag to her!

Betty was with us for a few years and she got mixed reactions from me. I never owned a pet in my life – much less one that lived in the house! However, she and my ex were like peas in a pod and yes, there were moments when that relationship seemed unnatural to me – I readily confess.

Then one day, Betty was gone – stolen in a swoop by thieves who swept through the neighbourhood where we had recently purchased our house. My ex was so heartbroken; she swore we would never have another dog. And we did not for years.

Until Angello and according to my ex, he was mine. She actually wanted to name him “A Fi Yuh It,” translation: “He’s Yours," as she wanted to feel no attachment to him and I guess that was her way of getting me to train him how to be a well behaved dog. Well that plan failed.

Abigail pretended at first to be nonchalant about this dog – until she realized that she could score ‘dates’ by walking him through the neigbourhood. She was right. Her first boyfriend was as a result of Angello’s cuteness.

As for my ex – she could not resist his charm and those big black eyes. Cool as she pretended to be towards him, like her late Dad, you could hear (and see if you approached quietly enough) her romping away like a child with Angello when she thought no one was looking - it was hilarious!

When the time came for us to leave for Canada – there was no question in my mind that Angello was coming once I found out that he could. So, Angello is actually an immigrant to Canada – just like the rest of us in my ‘family. He was the one who settled fastest. The first day of snow, he was out in the yard, rolling in it like a pig in s..t.

Now he is dying. I am writing as I watch him sleep on my comforter and wonder as Abigail did a few minutes ago on Messenger, “is he in pain?” He seems not to be but his hind legs are weak and since last night I have had to lift him to go do his business.

Death might not come quickly. The vet told me only this past week during his 2-month follow-up that his type of kidney disease is rare and so even the specialist who he had referred to did not know how long my darling has to live. “It could only be months, Claudette.” I can see that clearly this morning.

I have sat many times with individuals making their transition into the next life during my Clinical Pastoral training and so my fear of death no longer exists. Hence I know what I am experiencing is not fear as I watch Angello prepare to go. I believe what I am experiencing is a deep sense of loss – one that has been going on since May 2006. That was the time my daughter moved out and my world started to spiral downward.

One after one, my most beloved ones have been leaving my life and Abigail’s advice –“Don’t stress,” is hard not to do. Her wisdom, however, challenges me to look at and for what’s entering my life along with these departures. As I do that I must admit “they are legions.”

Nevertheless, right in this moment, I am grieving for a life that I once knew as Angello makes his exit.

This is not the Christmas story that readers have expected or anticipated from me – that is coming. Right now, I just need to do what Melody Beattie wrote in her book, Journey to the Heart, and not ignore my brokenness and pain, instead gently hold my heart in my hand and caress the cracks as I continue to open it even wider.

That’s tough s..t ! (Sorry for the language, I will explain another day the impact of working in a prison on my vocabulary - ha-ha).

It is just as tough as my daughter’s sage advice not to stress. One decision I have made, however, is that one of those pups from Angello’s first and last sexual encounter is coming home to me.

Blessings to all you pet lovers from a late blooming one,


Claudette

Let's Hear It For The Dogs

My life is not boring – far from it.

Take this last weekend as an example. On Friday, what should have been a couple hours turned into all night shopping and unpacking with two of my boys. We were exiting Walmart at 11:30 p.m. laden with packages – most their’s – and then we headed to my apartment to install a surround sound system that they convinced me was the best buy.

My initial intention was to get a second hand something that would play my compact discs without too much garble – but I learnt my lesson, never attempt to make purchases in a pawn shop with two gay men! Now thanks to them, as you approach my apartment door you hear the blast from this system that I am still figuring out how to use!

Saturday was my lunch date – and that went exceptionally well. I impressed the lady with a lovely four course lunch that she is still talking about up to yesterday. Actually she spent some of her weekend trying to repeat my success with corn bread – but I am not giving up my recipe. The best part though is that by the time she was leaving I had all the information I needed – that was the deal. Stay tuned for more tips, namely on how to get the ‘full bill and receipt’ from a beautiful, highly intelligent and no-nonsense woman (or whatever is your flavour) in my continuing series of DOF.

Later that night, again in the company of some more of my boys, we went to Bright Nights, which is a huge park lit with magnificent displays of lighting for the Christmas season. The night ended at my place – with the boys devouring the leftover from my lunch date. Claudette does not know how to cook for two, so there was enough to feed three grown men and myself. We washed that down with two bottles of the best tasting wine I ever had, supplied by Dr. B.

Sunday morning was time for church. I have declared myself the fag hag – it is an endearing term for a woman who hangs out with gay men. It is particularly endearing if the men are as warm, caring and loving as my boys. We went church shopping as I have been on the market for a new church home. For months now I knew it was time to find one that will satisfy my spiritual needs and my peace of mind – a place where I belong without intrusions. I believe I was successful.

Later that afternoon, my daughter and I spent time doing what has become an annual tradition – baking Christmas cakes together. The part of the tradition that seems somewhat askewer is that I purchase all the material for this Jamaican Christmas Cake and she takes home most of the end products!

Betwixt and between, several of my latest hobbies fill my days (and nights)…not to mention the daily ‘excitement’ of my job (I work at a prison and every day brings it own sets of drama). I have finally succumbed to the pressure and joined Facebook and that site is so addictive. I am on it morning, noon and night.

If that was not enough, I am now downloading music from Limewire – for my Christmas party. My Christmas and entertaining spirit is back in full force and so I will be the host of the first in the series of Christmas parties for the Divas and everybody is asked to bring a US$25.00 contribution for Kiva.

Looking at this one weekend, you can see that my life is full.

Then why am I experiencing this uncontrollable delight and excitement about my dog getting ‘laid’?

You read correctly. Angello, my dog and companion for over seven years and who was recently diagnosed as having a terminal kidney disease, is out performing stud service for two days. This must be like “Make a Wish Foundation for Dying Dogs,” and my sweetie has gotten his dream come through.

Visitors to my home – wherever that has been – can testify to having had to retrieve or peel Angello off their legs. He loves to hump. Last year the doctor told me that he needed to have surgery for his prostrate which was enlarging as a result of him “not getting any.” Well that’s no longer the case.

My gentle giant of a friend called me a couple days ago and told me that his bitch is going on heat and would I like to give Angello his lucky break. How could I say no to a dying dog that has loved me unconditionally for seven years so far? So off he went this morning to get his wish – to have sex.

My friend brought the lady in question over to my place very early this morning to see if she would be interested in Angello before driving all the way outside of Edmonton to his place and she rejected my boy. Well, who could resist the big black eyes and his dark ruddy (and furry) looks? There was no being coy on the lady’s part but my dear Angello for all his years of humping had not a clue where to hump this time.

I felt I had let him down – by not telling him how this was done. The poor fella tried for a couple hours, succeeding only to make a real wet mess off my kitchen floor but not making THE connection. As I watched his poor performance, I could not help thinking about the many disappointed women in this world who have found themselves or are in this position right now – meeting someone who looks better than they are able to ‘put out’.

Hopeful nevertheless for my dear Angello, I spent the rest of my day calling every hour to my friend’s to ask “Did he get it yet?”

I called so many times I felt my gentle giant was going to die with laughter. It was becoming embarrassing for me that my Angello was humping everywhere on the lady’s body except for where he should. My friend told me that he was considering giving his bitch a bathe soon as Angello had succeeded to drench her in …

I offered a suggestion at about 8:00 p.m. – almost twelve hours after this all started. But he didn’t think it funny. I though maybe he should show Angello where exactly to put his…to connect.

On my drive home after work close to 10:00 p.m. I called again, “Did he…?”“Yes, finally, he did and you should have seen the look on his face!” my friend told me. “It was as if he was saying holy s… what do I do now??” Excuse me but my giant’s language can be quite colourful, mine was worse as I pounded my steering wheel, screaming “Yes, yes!” like I was the one experiencing what I hope the lady did.

I share this very weird story because it reminded me to remain happy and hope-filled no matter what. A few weeks ago I thought I was going to lose my best friend and companion. Today, he was losing his virginity and I thought “what a wonderful life.”

For all the entertaining, shopping, drama at work, dating etc., that is going on in my life – or your’s – what really matters are the simple things that make you laugh heartily - like your dying dog having a day of his own brand of fun.

I love it!

Blessings,

Claudette