car-crossed lovers
We made a trip to Parry Sound today, and the dogs came along, since it was all about them anyway.
Given that we now have not one but two dogs dishing up soft-serve poos (sorry if that's TMI, but if you're a dog owner, you get it), we've decided that it's worth trying a change of food to see if the current bag of kibble may be the culprit.
This is the dogs approximately 10 seconds after getting into the car.
And approximately 11 seconds after getting into the car.
And for the rest of the journey there and back. Note how remarkably democratic they are about who is the pillow:
They go nuts about car rides, and then all they do is sleep.
Sunrise - the encore performance
I returned to Lake Ontario the day after taking the shots I posted yesterday in the blog. Like fingerprints, no two sunrises are alike, and this one was simple but beautiful: a fiery orange ball birthed from a clear, cloudless horizon. On the rocks at my feet, a burned-out votive and a wilted, scattered posy of flowers, remnants of another person seeking peace and comfort in this lonely spot. Perhaps it's the very scope of the view, looking out to where water meets sky at infinity, that transports you far away from the here and now, isolates you in a bubble, and opens an ephemeral connection to what's been lost in the past.
Sunrise over Lake Ontario
These were taken 10 days ago. I've been too busy with other things to get much photo editing done.
As usual, Mother Nature threw in a beautiful encore at the end. As I was heading back up the beach, the lake began to steam as the warmth of the sun touched it. The show's never quite over when you think it is.
Hazel
Hazel is Soleil's full sister, one year younger. This photo caught the one brief moment when she stood still, looking intently at the ball that my niece Aidee was about to wing into the field for all of the dogs to chase.
Soleil's been fighting some sort of intestinal issue for nearly a week now, and after trying all the usual remedies (fasting her, feeding her rice) I caved in yesterday and took her to the vet. Arwen came along for the ride, of course. One for all and all for one.
When we got there, the assistant recapped what I had told her over the phone. You said Soleil seems lethargic? she asked. No, I replied. That would be me. Poop sorties every 2 hours, round the clock, can do that to you.
The vet is super, and he gets right down on the floor and cradles the dogs. They think he is the greatest thing since sliced bread. He managed to extricate some poop to swab, and sent in an assistant to take some blood. I sat with Soleil while this was being done, and as the girl put the tourniquet around Soleil's foreleg, Arwen put her paw in there as well. I don't know whether she was being altruistic, helpful, or jealous. Either way, it was cute.
The blood and poop came back negative for everything except Healthy Dog. The problem was deemed to be a random, likely viral, colitis. Pills were dispensed. I'm really sorry, said the vet, but the pills aren't coated, so they are going to taste very bitter. I looked at him. Taste? I replied. Labradors don't taste. What is this strange concept to which you refer? And anyway, that's what God made peanut butter for, right?
Knock on wood, she seems to be doing better today. And maybe soon I can get out of this habit of bending over and minutely examining dog poo.
