C IS FOR COMPANIONS

Top Left - The Kids and Toby
TAKEN: JUNE 2008
Top Right - Hubby, Daisy and Dottie
TAKEN: MARCH 2012
Bottom Right - Puddin' rocking the dock!
TAKEN: SUMMER 2017
Bottom Right -  Miya & Annie soaking up the ocean breeze in Outer Banks
TAKEN: OCTOBER 2022

Growing up, my mother was a cat person. The idea of letting a dog in the house was simply a hard NO.

Then, once my husband and I married he explained how he'd always had a dog. To his credit, he did entertain a cat or two until he refused to getting a third. Instead, when I was getting ready to go off on maternity leave with Jukebox, we decided to get out first dog. 

The methodology behind the decision was that I would be off work for sixteen weeks and I could house train a dog and change diapers as part of my daily routine. Well, my son slept through the night after three weeks, and I got up with the dog to take a leak in the night for almost six months!

Giggles aside, in all our decades together, the overall canine tally is nine. Three of those are still alive and living their best lives with us. It is in my will that the ashes we have accumulated be buried with my remains, and I don't think I will ever not have a dog in my life.

Because the truth of the matter is, a bond between and person and their pups is like no other. Not only are they our life long companions, they are always along for the ride no matter what ups and downs life brings

They personify unconditional love and I swear if you treat them right, they will love you more than they love themselves.

FORGET ME NOT

We landed at the cottage Friday night to a couple of pleasant surprises. First one was that we weren’t carried down the hill by blackflies and mosquitos. Second was, when I opened the kitchen door, my view was filled with a wonderful sea of blue.

Not sure what type of bloom they were, I snapped a pic and reached out via social media in search of some help. The consensus came back that they were a flower called Forget Me Nots. 

Per Google, I discovered that they are a short term perennial which are a symbol of true love and respect. A wonderful cottage tribute with perfect timing as I approach the first anniversary of the death of my beloved Puddin’.

This pre-covid polaroid pic of her (taken by a friend of the kids) remains on the cottage fridge.
I will never forget her.
TAKEN: MAY 27th, 2023  

I don’t think my heart has been this hollow for the loss of a furbaby since my yellow lab Toby left us in March of 2007 at the ripe old age of fifteen. He was so special that we were over two years before we entertained another pup.

Back then, I didn’t want another yellow lab as I truly felt the space he took in my heart could never be replaced. It was only after our beagle rescue Daisy was hit by a car that we agreed it may be time for another yellow.

From the day in 2012 when she landed home, we knew that Puddin’ was special. Even as a wee bit of pup, her outgoing personality shone through from the beginning. She was forever by my side and really chill until her one true flaw kicked in. Which was when out of the blue, she would haphazardly run up the drive to confront people on our street.

She was never malicious or vicious, her outburst of random barking and jumping up and down in the same spot was just super annoying and it always ended up being a tad embarrassing having to endlessly apologize to the passerby.

I have always professed it was an ingrained effort to protect her home and her pack. My husband always chose to believe it was a simple set of loose screws!

Anyway, when we purchased Miya’s sister Katie in December, our third yellow, it was never to replace my girl.  It was a specific set of circumstances that fast tracked having another in our pack. 

As she settles into her first summer on Orillia Lake, I think the flowers Friday were just Puddin’ stopping by to say hello. Just as we bloomed with daisies the summer after Daisy's death, the yard is filled with a sea of blue for my sweet girl.

She can rest easy knowing I could never forget her, she was a very bright light in my life.

So much so, that when my time comes, both her and Toby's ashes will be buried with mine.

J IS FOR JOURNAL

When I look back at how dark I was when I started this journal, all I can say is “you’ve come a long way baby!”

That said, even when I am not participating in the April A-Z Challenge, I try to set a little time aside to write something every single day. 

Sometimes I vent about things I can’t share with anyone. Sometimes I type until I cry, then generally feel relieved.

The accomplishment comes in the times I actually a finish my initial thought process, and post the crap to this silly electronic journal.

More than ten years later, I still find it empowering at how my looking inward (smashing these little black keys) can still produce something creative and free. 

No matter what, I believe it all comes back to mindset. I swear a solid and clear mindset is the ultimate ignition switch to accomplishing whatever you put your mind to.

That, and a true desire to share mumble, jumbled, gobble-de-gook, with the masses! #yagottalaughaboutit

Puddin' and I zipping around the Orillia Lake in the bowrider.
Coming up to a year without her, and I still ache because I miss her so much.
TAKEN: JULY 6th,  2015

REMEMBERING 2022

I don’t know about you, but I am happy to shut the door on the past year and look to the coming year with a genuine amount of hope and sincere optimism. 

Personally, it has felt like I have been in mourning for the majority of the year. I didn’t write nearly as much as I had hoped because my heart was absolutely aching with both hurt and despair. Trust me, in spite of my mantra, it hasn't been something I would ever be able to laugh about.

Professionally, after taking the last three months of 2022 off to help my husband heal from a life saving surgery, I started the year with a new career challenge that has proven to be an excellent move for me. As I look toward retirement, I love that I am mentoring and team building with an amazing group of young, very upwardly mobile, professionals. 

With the past year in the rearview, I have great hope for 2023. All the best in the coming year everyone. Cheers, and thanks once again for reading. 

~ Rhondi

PS: For the first time, for my annual 'remembering' post, as I reminisce electronically, you can click links to journal offerings that you may have missed.

PSS: Enjoy!

Most significant moment (centre): The sudden passing of my closest friend and confidant, Brian ‘Smartie’ Smart. Who left us Easter weekend 2022. I am truly heartbroken, and the loss of his presence will be missed forever.

January: A snapshot from the desk of my new job. A refreshing challenge I have loved, to which I said to my boss on our last conversation before the holiday break, "look what you and I have accomplished in our first year. I can't wait to see where we land after our second!" 

(Link: Leapin' Life Balance)

February: Knowing my wonderful Puddin' was living on borrowed time, my husband and I spent Family Day (aka: Family Furbaby Day) at the cottage with 'The Oreo Gang' . It was the beginning of the end of an era. 

(Link: The Oreo Gang)

March: As the carpool picked up Goob to head to work in Port Cariling, the glow of the sunrise lit up the car. I got out of the car to capture this moment. We enjoyed a beautiful month of March.

April: For the first time since November 2019 we were able to travel. We flew into Miami then took a roadtrip to Key West. Smartie called me to wish me a Happy Birthday, and made me promise to go to the Hemmingway house, which I did the very next day. We talked for an hour, said our always call ending 'I love you and I love you too'. He was dead a week later. 

(Link: S is for Smartie)

May: The month saw the beginning of house as well as cottage renovations. Both took until the end of November to complete. Much more to do in 2023.

June: My beautiful Puddin' succumbed to her cancer. She was my very best furbaby friend. Our Annie was so affected by the loss that we had to stop saying her name. My life just isn't the same without her.

July: I surprised my husband with a road trip to the town of Bethel (where the Woodstock Festival was held in 1969) and then through the Catskill Mountains to the town of Woodstock New York for his birthday. For music lovers like us, it was both a moving and Bucket List experience.

August: We had a heat wave that was crazy off the charts producing extreme heat warnings. It was so hot, that we were in the water more than out. We felt like kids again! 

(Link: My Happy Hat)

September: They say everything comes in threes, and I had three that were major for me personally. First Smartie, then Puddin', then lastly my beautiful Auntie Cai. I credit a lot of who I am today to her and her life guidance. I miss her very much and always will. 

(Link: In her memory ~ Sweet Dreams of Cairo)

October: Our third roadtrip had us take our pups on a more than two thousand mile round trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We rented a house that slept twelve on the ocean that was perfect. If you've never been.... GO!

(Link: Outer Banks Paw Patrol)

November: Yours truly celebrated a personal milestone with the 11th Anniversary of my wee electronic journal. In hindsight, maybe I should have named it 'Silly Story Central!?!' #yagottalaughaboutit 

(Link: Eleven Years Young)

December: A photo just can't illustrate the amount of snowfall we received in Muskoka that began the evening of December 23rd. So much so, that the massive dumping felt like we should have been placed in a State of Emergency. The photo in my collage was day two of four that were brutal. 

Link: Our Great Neighbourhood)

MY AMAZING GOAT

My beautiful Annie Banannie once again embracing lake life with me.
TAKEN: AUGUST 1, 2022

I was listening to the radio on my way into work last week and the on-air host referenced a band I’d never heard of as the ‘goat’. I wasn’t much of a fan, so it didn’t really resonate until that same morning show host, days later, spoke of the band again explaining the ‘g.o.a.t.’ acronym in long form as: greatest of all time.  

I giggled to myself after she said it, because it was once again proof of what I tell the littluns I work with all the time, which is that I learn something new every single day. 

The real surprise was because I tend to call my beloved Annie by her nickname, which is my Nanny Goat. Primarily because she jumps around like one whenever we are reunited after being apart for more than fifteen minutes; which is truly a special sight to see. 

Just like our children (Goob, Sweetie & Jukebox), I have always nicknamed for our dogs. 

I remember my estranged sister-in-law asking me if I still had those “silly nicknames” for my children. 

To which I immediately propped myself up proudly admitted yes, because in that moment I knew it was just her passive aggressive way to switch the narrative and attention in her direction. To this day, she's a real see you next Tuesday, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, all these years later, I don’t want to open that can of worms, as she’s in the past and not the direction I am going - BUT I will weigh in on the whole nickname front. 

Just like my grown children, my dogs appreciate my tone when I use their nicknames as a genuine term of endearment.  So much so that when our Puddin' left us on this past June 7th, I had to stop mentioning her name as it made my Annie suffer even more.

The photo I am sharing today is the very first time Annie would get back in the boat that floats with me, as she would always wait on the dock just incase her BFF would in some way miraculously come back to her. Eight weekends later, she decided to finally hop in.

Though is would be tough for me to confirm that Annie is in fact the greatest of all time, our bond is very strong, just as mine was mine was with Puddin' and all that came before her. They know you love them, unconditionally - and not just because they are mine.

You see, if you were to ask me if I believe in love at first sight, my answer would be absolutely! 

As crazy as this reads, I fall in love with every dog, the very first time our eyes meet. 

...Then immediately give them a treat and a nickname.

#BAZINGA

MY HAPPY HAT

This past weekend produced some major heat warnings in Muskoka and the humidex rolled past a balmy 40C. With the UV rays off the chart, I kept my skin slathered in a 30 SPF waterproof sunscreen as I got in and out of the water all day Saturday.

How hot was it? It was so hot that I got to wear 'my happy hat'. Not to be confused with any one of my favourite hats, the specific hat shown here, has always brought me happiness.

Clocking in at more than 30 years of age (which must be at least a hundred and fifty-five in straw hat years) she was my dad’s favourite swimming hat he wore at his camp on Lake Temiscamang. 

She was relocated to a hat hook at our cottage on Orillia Lake after he passed more than fifteen years ago.

As I age, I can confirm 1000% that it is the small things that matter most.
TAKEN: AUGUST 6th, 2022

As I type, I recall all the photos taken of her over those years. Shots of dad in the water when the kids were little, then pics as tweens as they grew up here. Their friends partying, overnight cottage guests, my husband working along the shoreline; and for the very first time Saturday, me. 

As you can see, she has seen better hat days. Like all of us, she is beginning to succumb to the elements caused by the aging process. Her shape has changed, and what was once firm is no longer. In hindsight, I feel she was a tad taken for granted over the years, and now, as her straw weakens as each summer passes, like everything, we tend to cherish her even more.

I don’t know about you, but even with the VID on the way out, this year has been a bit of a shit show for me. I still haven’t processed that my best friend Smarite has died, and I truly wasn’t ready for our Puddin’ to head over the rainbow bridge as soon as she did. 

Though some aspects of my life are the best they have ever been, I feel there are specifics that may never heal - one particularly that my husband has declared ‘a last straw’ (no pun intended, and without any reference to this amazing hat... lol).

If the truth be told, I think that is why I keep my dad’s memory alive through reminders like my hundreds of Petro Canada glasses, his shoes that remain at my front door, and this silly straw hat. 

He was always my closest confidant, and having him near has always kept me going during trying times.

As my eyes fill with tears, I find it amazing how these items can bring forth a flood of emotions. Happiness, sadness, laughter and comfort.... Oh, and let's not forget security. 

Yup, all day Saturday, his favourite hat kept me safe yet again. From my having a sun stroke!

Thanks Poppa xoxo