Writers and Their Pets

Lucy before haircut


I don’t have to look far for inspiration to create a pet’s character. Lucy provides me with enough material to last a lifetime! Her haircuts vary from short to shaggy. She’s fond of barking and will even stay in bed lying on her back, barking to let us know she heard something but refuses to get up and check it out herself. She pouts and is always quizzical when she comes upon something new. She’s never short of kisses, snuggles and is sure to get her message across when she wants something.



I’m sure I’m just partial when it comes to Lucy and that most writers have their special pet they can draw inspiration from. It’s their quirks that make them a worthy secondary character in a manuscript… But be careful, they may just take over and demand their own series.

Loss of a Pet

Sadly during our stay in BC my grandparents lost their pet Sally. I met Sally five years ago; she and Lucy became instant friends. Sally a Sheltie mix and Lucy a terrier mix matched each other in size and were perfect playmates. They would have a system going where one would tell us they would have to go outside and of course with each outing we would reward them with a treat, but we couldn’t just give one the treat without giving the other one as well. So it went, Sally would go outside, come in get a treat and a few minutes later Lucy would do the same; the two made it so they would get double amount of treats.

Five years the dogs were separated; the distance of Ontario and BC keeping them apart. This time age had its bearing, Sally’s legs bothered her and Lucy checked her over, sniffing her intently--I believe sensing there was something more serious at hand. It wasn’t until near the end of our visit around April that Sally went suddenly blind. The veterinarian checked her for diabetes but it wasn’t so, her breathing became labored and finally my grandparents had to put her to sleep for there was nothing else they could do. The vet suspected it was lymphoma.

The house is now oddly quiet and there’s a lack of movement—the feeling of loss tangible. It wasn’t more than a week after they put her down when my grandparents got a card of condolence from the veterinarian, in it was a beautiful note called; Rainbow Bridge. We read it with my grandmother unable to keep the tears from our eyes. It’s a wonderful piece of writing that I had to share.

Rest in peace Sally.




Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; his eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion; never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together …

Author unknown

Christmas with Our Dog Lucy

Having no children of my own, I spoil our dog Lucy and she milks for all it’s worth. We sent parcels back east to my family and wrapped up a present for their dog; Lucy knowing it was a toy tried numerous times to sneak it out of the box—when it comes to toys and treats it’s impossible to hide it from her.

Christmas eve she woke up to go outside, once indoors she stopped by the Christmas tree knowing her presents were there. She gave a whimper, but she was told she had to wait until morning.

Since we’re staying at my grandparents for the winter in their basements suite, their dog Sally comes downstairs and visits often; so naturally they had to open their gifts together.




Sally with her toy:


Lucy checking Sally's toy:



Sally wearing a big smile after opening her present:




Lucy wanting more presents:


Lucy trying out her new toy:





Lucy loving all of her presents:

It’s A Long Way to Tipperary

That old World War 1 song kept surfacing from one person to another as we drove the 3800 kilometers (approx. 2200 miles) to Vancouver Island.

I can’t tell you how strained my eyes were when it grew dark and we drove around the lake head of Lake Superior. I watched sign after sign, saying watch for moose crossing; one was flashing in bright lights; seeming foreboding. My imagination was getting the best of me; I half expected a wide-eyed moose to jump out in front of us just for the sport of it..


At one point in Manitoba, we were making good timing, waking well before the sun rose from our hotel room and setting off, but things slowed considerably when a train that had to be at least two and half miles long crossed our path at turtle's pace, even our dog Lucy had to wonder what was going on.








Rain followed us throughout most of the prairies, the sun eventually came out and I actually seen the end of a rainbow in Fort Macleod, Alberta. I looked but didn’t see no pot of gold waiting there (fanciful thought I know, but it sure would have been sweet).



We got some great shots of the mountains and a beautiful church.







So now I’m home to stay in BC until spring once again touches Ontario.

Ugh, More Snow

This is the longest winter I can remember in years. It started in November and hasn’t let up. I suppose it wouldn’t be so bad if I enjoyed winter activities. I can say the unusually long season has brought out the best in some of the most dedicated summer lovers. They even went so far as to buy snow machines. (I guess they knew something I didn’t as for how long the snow would last).

My dog Lucy loves the white powdery substance. The chill of it doesn’t bother her in the least. You would think she was in the Caribbean the way she romps about in it. She pounces into a snow bank, her face buried beneath its surface as if she were snorkeling in a lagoon in her pursuit of a mole… Or field mouse… Or whatever catches her scent.

In Lucy’s wake she always leaves icy puddles of water in the house as she transforms from snow dog to terrier mix before our eyes.

As for me I keep straining my eyes in hopes of seeing a patch green as a signal that spring is around the bend.