Back in 1997 I fulfilled two little dreams that I had. First of all, I went to Mexico which was a place I was dying to see. I was in Cancun for a week and had a blast. Lately Mexico hasn’t been very Canadian-friendly but I would still love to go back one day.

The second dream I fulfilled was during a day trip from Cancun to Xcaret. The trip itself wasn’t particularly worthwhile. It cost the same thing as the day trip to the ruins in Chichen Itza but that trip included an air-conditioned double-decker bus with a bathroom on board, complementary continental breakfast on the bus, a tour guide for a couple of hours to see the ruins, a choice of four lunch venues at the hotel nearby, and mini Corona bottles and chips on the bus ride home. In comparison the trip to Xcaret was on a school bus and the access to the park. Every activity in the park cost extra and the food was outlandishly expensive (and not particularly good either). No matter though; aside from the spectacular night show I got to do one thing I had wanted to do for pretty much my whole life.

I swam with dolphins for 20 minutes. It cost me about $70 US but it was worth every penny to me. I got to take part in a dolphin trick (all of us stretched out in the water holding hands in a line and the dolphins swam under us and then jumped over us multiple times), and the best part of all was the 15 minutes of free swim time. The dolphins were like rubbery puppies, swimming around us, poking their noses at us to get us to pet them, and I was completely in love. I also got a photo taken with two of them.

It was one of the best things I had ever done and I had hoped that one day I’d get a chance to do it again since dolphins are my favorite wild animal.

Then I watched the documentary The Cove and I know that I will never do it ever again. Having watched what the dolphin industry costs the dolphins themselves, it doesn’t feel like I paid nearly enough money that day.

If you haven’t seen the movie I strongly urge you to do so. It had me bawling into tissues but it is so worth watching. The dolphin industry doesn’t give a crap about the dolphins they train for our enjoyment. A few of the many problems:

• The lifespan of dolphins in captivity is about half that of a dolphin in the wild.
• Dolphins in the wild will cover hundreds of kilometers in the ocean in a single day; there’s no such thing as a tank or outdoor captivity area large enough to fulfill their basic needs.
• Dolphins in places like Taiji, Japan are herded by the hundreds or thousands into a tiny cove, crowded in there in terror; dolphin programs (swim with the dolphins, dolphin shows, etc) bid on the dolphins they want and take them to their locations, separating these highly social and attached animals from their families.
• The dolphins that are not chosen are herded into a neighboring cove and slaughtered. SLAUGHTERED. The turquoise ocean water literally turns red with the blood of hundreds and hundreds of dolphins.
• The slaughtered dolphins are cut up, packaged under a generic (and inaccurate) label of “fish”, then sold to unsuspecting Japanese consumers as well as schools which then serve the dolphin to its students; this is highly problematic since dolphins have dangerously high mercury levels. In the film it was said that if a dolphin washed up on the shores of the United States it would technically be considered toxic waste because of the mercury levels. Mercury is long known to cause major health problems, but most people approached in Japan during filming had no idea they were eating dolphin to begin with.

Nice, right?

I try not to preach too much but I love dolphins and this is something near and dear to my heart. I would love so much to hop in the water and swim around with a dolphin again but I can’t let myself do that because the cost of that joy is too high. Instead I’ll settle for helping to educate people about a problem they may not realize exists simply because dolphins always look so happy. They’re not smiling because they’re happy; they’re “smiling” because that’s just they way their faces are built.

There are a lot of things you can do, and aside from learning more or getting something cool from their shops which gives proceeds right back into the funding to save more dolphins (I have this awesome hat), you can also sign the pledge below. I did and I stand by it.

(This is not a sponsored post. This is just me donning my activist hat for a moment.)

When I was looking for a dog, I saw an ad on Kijiji for what ended up becoming our Winnie. She was advertised as being a black lab mixed with a golden retriever and I just took it as that without questioning. It was very obvious that she was indeed a black lab based on her overall shape, color, tail, and so on. As for the golden, well, I just figured that must account for he shaggy ears and the furry back.

Yesterday I was looking at a few videos on YouTube about agility (something I’d love to try out eventually!) and I suddenly realized I do not have a golden retriever mix. I looked at another video and then some pictures and I had a hunch. I Googled a specific mix of dogs and discovered that I had accidentally gotten the type of dog that I had originally been searching for – I actually have a Border Collie mix.

A friend of mine had suggested this summer that I seek out that type of dog because she felt that it would be ideal for me and for my family – not a pure Border Collie mind you. That would be way too much dog for me because I wouldn’t be able to give it the exercise it would need. A mix though, yes.

I had found two that I fell for while perusing Petfinder but there was no point in adopting a dog when I knew we were going to be leaving for three weeks on vacation in Halifax. It would be cruel at worst, and confusing at best to get a dog and then toss it into a kennel for three weeks. How would she know who her “people” were or where her home was? It was illogical.

In the end, both the dogs were gone by the time I had a chance to look more seriously. I was disappointed but figured I’d find the right dog if I was patient. I am so happy with the dog that I got. Winnie’s big flaw is her resistance to polite leash walking and somewhat related, her reactivity to other dogs (she’s not aggressive, she just REALLY wants to go see other dogs when we’re out, even if that means choking herself and nearly dragging me across the street). Other than that she’s been quick to learn, a ton of fun, a great companion for the kids, and my constant shadow.

I loved her anyway, even when I thought she was a lab and golden mix. Finding out that she’s actually a mix that I specifically wanted only makes it better. It definitely explains a lot. In hindsight (and it’s so obvious I feel very “duhhhh” about it), there’s no logical reason for a black lab and a golden retriever to have a white crest on her chest. That’s a classic Border Collie marking. Here’s Winnie:

And here’s a dog I found when searching for lab/BC mixes:

Other than the white paws on the other dog, there’s an undeniable similarity. I need to get a better picture of Winnie sitting straight up to show off her white chest.

It also explains the way she runs when she’s chasing the kids around. She doesn’t nip, but she definitely herds. And it explains her ability to quickly pick up on cues and tricks.

It really doesn’t matter in the end, she could have been mixed with a pug or a Doberman and I wouldn’t have cared as long as she was a good fit with our family, but finding out you ended up with your original ideal is like finding a surprise gift a month after Christmas is over.

As far as non-eventful weekends go, this one was particularly delightful. First we had a rather nice Friday, then a wonderful Saturday spent outside. Along came today and I have to say that Sunday was the icing on the cake.

I lazed about for most of the morning but it was okay because – shock of shocks – the kids played pretty well together. They were checking out some games on the computer and playing with paper dolls. After lunch I had a few things to do so they went into their room and played some more; I think they were playing school.

Considering the fact that it was something like 11 celsius I thought it would be a good idea to take them out. Winnie needed to go out as well so I took all three of them over to the big field. The kids played extremely well in a pile of dirt and rocks (ah, simple joys!) while I helped Winnie practice getting used to the Halti which she loathes quite a bit. I, on the other hand, love it because Miss Pully McPullerson can’t rip my arm out anymore. She isn’t dog aggressive AT ALL but she kind of goes bananas when she sees them and once nearly dragged me into an intersection to get to a dog across the street. She’s only 55 pounds, smaller than your average Labrador or Golden Retriever but it’s 95% muscle and it takes all my efforts to control her when she wants to get to a dog for playtime. With the Halti on she physically can’t pull me and so that’s why we were able to calmly approach, meet, and sniff (well, okay, I scratched, I didn’t sniff) a Retriever mix and a lovely smiling American Bulldog without any chaos.

Eventually I want to get her to walk politely on a leash without a Halti but that will be saved for short bursts of training and right now the majority of her walks will be on the Halti to save my arms, back, and to keep me from being pulled down on my back (or ass) on the ice this coming winter.

Anyway. On top of all that both kids listened and called it quits with their playing when I announced it was time to go home for hot chocolate. There was one minor “aww, already?!” but when I pointed out that a) we’d been out for an hour, b) the sun was setting, c) it was getting cold, and d) we had marshmallows for the hot chocolate they were both more than willing to start traipsing home.

They continued with their playing post-hot chocolate and other than the occasional scuffle they basically played very well all day together.

There was one minor hiccup in our day and that happened as I took the rice off the burner to absorb the water and was literally just about to lift a steak onto our indoor grill for supper. All was quiet and then there was a loud and obnoxious blaring from the hallway and I realized the building’s fire alarm was going off. The kids freaked out because it makes them very nervous. I had them put their shoes on and wait with George while I went to each floor to see if there was any smoke or if it was a false alarm.

I didn’t see anything but I asked George to call the janitor to let him know. He arrived as I was out on the balcony to see if I could see fire trucks coming (no) and he waved to me and asked me to bring everyone outside.

It’s an unfortunate truth but my cat is so scared of everything that in the event of a real fire I will never be able to get her out and will have to hope for the best. Luckily the dog is never further than a few feet from me so I leashed her, we all got our coats, and we headed outside for about half an hour. It was good that it wasn’t cold but I had to pee and we were all hungry!

In the end it was indeed a false alarm. We stood around chit chatting with our neighbors (apparently a fire alarm is the best way to get to know the people in your building) until the fire department showed up. Since no one had called them right away they didn’t get there for awhile, but they did go in and check everything out. It seemed that one of the alarms on the third floor had been pulled; it’s possible it was a kid who did it since several live on that floor which is really not cool. As the janitor said, it’s dangerous to do that. If there are enough false alarms people will start ignoring them and in the even of a real fire someone could get hurt or worse.

In any case it was all fine in the end and we were finally able to go back upstairs. I got supper back on and we were able to eat at a still-decent hour. That was an exciting end to the weekend!

I spent the rest of my evening getting the kids herded off to bed so we can start another week tomorrow, and then I worked on some training with Winnie. I’m working on getting her to come when called, which worked quite nicely with leftover bits of steak, and I also practiced getting her to let go of a toy on command (“leave it!”) and to jump when asked.

Now I’m finishing up a glass of wine and debating whether I should go to bed shortly or stay up to watch Horatio Caine solve another crime on CSI Miami. Generally speaking, cop shows tend to win out over sleep for me.

I hope your weekend was as delightful as mine!

I’ve had dogs before, but having Winnie in particular is completely different. Back about 14 or 15 years ago (holy GOD, I now feel old) I had a dog named Balou when I lived with my ex. I knew absolutely nothing about dog training. All I knew was that I loved dogs and I loved my Balou. Somehow, with no formalities I had a dog who would come when called, didn’t jump all over everyone who came over, could be walked off leash, slept on the end of the bed (since I didn’t know about crate training), and was an all-around Good Dog ™.

Fast forward to a couple of years ago and I had Pearl. Being a Beagle I had expected a stubborn nature but a good family dog. Instead I ended up with a dog who didn’t listen, didn’t give a crap about commands, cared even less about things like her position in the “pack”, and most importantly (and the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back) was extremely aggressive. The last point was what made us find her a new home.

And now enter Winnie.

(In that photo she’s eagerly awaiting her favorite “toy” which is when I take an empty toilet paper tube, stuff it with dry food, fold the ends over, and toss it to her.)

Winnie is by no means a perfect dog. After a week of behavior that would have made her suitable for attending the Queen’s coronation, she settled in and discovered the joy of counter surfing. She was – I assume – frequently given scraps of food because she will beg two inches from someone’s face unless I step in and send her away. She is also back and forth in her ability to walk well on a leash. Some days she will trot happily along the sidewalk and other times she will try to remove my arm from its socket; tonight she nearly dragged me down when we were halfway through an intersection because she saw another dog. Clearly we still have some things to work on.

On the other hand, she’s amazing in so many ways. When we first got her, the girl warned me that she always barked for a minute or two after being put into her crate whether it was because she was being left at home alone or it was just time for bed. She did indeed do that but by the end of her first full week she had stopped and now she goes in easily. I showed her that her crate is a good place to be by making it a happy place; it’s full of cushions, no one bothers her when she wanders in on her own, and from time to time I throw a treat or a bit of kibble in there when she’s not looking so that she finds it later. It’s working because even if she’s not thrilled to go in, she’s content (she loves going in there at night; it’s when we go out to do errands that I get the “oh come on, really?!” stare).

She is happy when people come over but she doesn’t jump all over them. She’ll usually come up to say hello but all four paws remain on the ground. Sometimes she doesn’t even bother to get up from wherever she’s sprawled because she just doesn’t care. I love having a dog that doesn’t try to climb up a visitor’s leg and who doesn’t bark incessantly because someone is here. She’s so mellow.

(Mellow except in that photo; while walking in the woods she spotted this rather deep and large hole full of rain water and in true Lab fashion she lunged, belly-flopped, and then swam as much as a dog can while still leashed. I’m quite lucky I didn’t end up in there with her, sheesh.)

She loves to play with Breanna. An outsider might think that she’s about to eat Breanna sometimes because she’ll growl but it’s fun-filled growling, not anything malicious. They chase each other around and play with all of Winnie’s toys. She plays with Hayley too but since Breanna is home all day and Hayley is at school, Breanna and Winnie are best buddies.

She isn’t aggressive AT ALL. I very rarely feed Winnie myself. Instead Breanna feeds her in the morning and Hayley feeds her after supper most of the time unless they’re busy. I can let them do this because Winnie will not attack them for the food or start snarling if they’re within ten feet of her dish. Both kids make her sit quietly while they put the food in the bowl and she listens.

I mentioned above that she’s big on begging and that drives me NUTS. However, we have taught her to stay out of the kitchen while we’re cooking (any other time I don’t mind if she passes through but she has a lot of shaggy black hair that I would rather not find in the middle of my curried chicken) and when we sit down to eat she goes willingly to the living room or the hall. Well. Willingly but she does still stare at us like we’re terribly mean for not sharing our supper and every once in awhile she huffs like a ticked off teenager.

Like a lot of dogs, she’s happiest being near her people. This is especially true of me. If I get up and leave the room 95% of the time she’ll get up and follow me unless it’s late in the evening (she’s not a night dog; in fact she’s currently in her crate of her own volition, sleeping because it’s just time for her to turn in what with it being almost midnight). I don’t bring her in the bathroom with me because she’s one of those dogs who has that nasty habit of mistaking the cat’s litter box for a buffet (ewwwwwwww) and when I come back out she’s almost always lying directly in front of the door, waiting for me.

She tries our patience with the quirks that still need work (and good leash manners are most important for me because winter is coming and so are icy sidewalks and she’s strong enough to pull me down – HARD – if she puts her mind to it), but she’s honestly fitting in so well in our family that it’s amazing.

I am so lucky to have seen the ad on Kijiji when I did and I’m so happy to have a great dog once again.