the last post

My brother in law brought it to my attention on the weekend that I have not written a blog in over two years.  And at first it nagged at me….why did I start something that I didn’t finish?  But as I thought about it over the weekend, I came to the conclusion that I was okay with it.  Sophie is now 7 ½ years old and still dances with butterflies with the heart of a puppy even though she has gray in her muzzle now.  Finding Sirius was a wonderful way to document many lessons I learned about life, relationships, and myself from Sophie.  I still learn from Sophie every day, but as I have found new hobbies and interests that I spend my free time on, I no longer feel compelled to document all those lessons.  Life is fluid…why shouldn’t a blog be as well?  I will be publishing all the posts and pictures into a book for myself that I will cherish forever as it tells such a big and important piece of our journey together.

Blogging made me a better writer, a better photographer and introduced me to some wonderful people around the world…and for that I will forever be grateful.  To each and every one of you who was generous enough with your time to read a post, to leave a comment, to follow Finding Sirius, I thank you.  I wanted to write this last post to send out that heartfelt thanks to all of you and to give a proper ending to something that has meant so much to me.   

 

Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky and is also known as the Dog Star.  I named this blog Finding Sirius because I knew, even in the early days, that my Sophie would be one of the brightest highlights in my life.  And I think it’s fitting that we end our blogging days not with the sad post about her passing that I had always dreaded writing, but rather with her light burning brighter than ever.  As my life continues to shift and change around me, she continues to be my steady companion, my buoy during tougher times and my dance partner during the wonderful ones.

So with that, Sophie and I will sign off. One final word of advice…let dog love permeate every aspect of your life and your heart…it will change you in ways you never expected and take you amazing places.

that's just me

I'm going to a work conference in May that will be attended by people from all over the world who work for my company (as well as our parent company).  As part of the prep for this conference, we have to complete a profile that will be posted in an e-team room so that your fellow attendees can get a sense of who you are before they get there.  The profile is supposed to be more personal and fun than about who you are at work...in fact many of the questions you are asked to answer specify that your reply should not be about work (i.e proudest accomplishment).

I love these kinds of exercises because they can force you to think about aspects of your life that you have not really contemplated before.  I found out a few things about myself, such as when it came down to who was my role model and mentor...in life, not just in work.....I had one very simple answer...my Dad.  What is my go-to-song to make me happy?  For better or worse, it's Breathe by Michelle Branch...everytime.  And I found out something else too.

Because I work for a pet industry company and the profile was supposed to be about me, not my work, I tried to leave out references to pets.  And found it to be impossible.  My favourite sound...Elora purring.  One of my proudest accomplishments....running a full agility course with Sophie.  Best advice I've ever been given....follow your heart and you will find true joy....advice I "got" from Sophie.  I simply could not fill out a profile about me without including Sophie and Elora...because they are part of who I am ....a big part.  It' s funny to think that just shy of a decade ago, I had never owned a dog or cat in my life....and now, I can't imagine a life without them.  Elora is not just my cat, but my touchstone...and Sophie is not just my dog, by my muse, my compass...my true north.  If you want to know me....you almost have to start with them....and I think that's a wonderful and amazing thing.  But that's just me.

a perfect day - happy birthday, sophie

Sophie will be five tomorrow.  Wow...five. And as much as I am "into" dogs....I have never celebrated her birthday other than a blog post or a shout out on facebook.  No party, no presents, no cake.  It's just never seemed to be mine...or Sophie's...thing.  But something has shifted this year...maybe it's because she is getting older...or because I am.

This year, I bought her some "birthday" presents...a toy, a treat, a "happy birthday" dog cookie.. But more importantly I plan to give her this "great day" tomorrow...a day full of long, off leash walks on the trails; and some crazy play time; and indulgent meals and treats; and a whole day just being together. And maybe, I realize, it's not that either of us is getting older...maybe it's that I read Jon Katz's book: Going Home. Finding Peace When Pets Die.  A wonderfully written and excellent book, that I would recommend to any pet owner, that talks, in one chapter, about giving that beloved pet a "perfect day" before they go. Maybe I wished that I could make every day in our life together perfect for Sophie. But since I can't, given all the other demands in life...work, family, friends...the least I can do is give her that "perfect day" once a year in celebration of her birth, rather than just at the end of her life.  In celebration of a day that would forever change me -- a day that would make me better, that would make me whole...by bringing this little being into my life.  And the funny thing is....I have this strong suspicion...that it won't just be her perfect day...it will be mine as well.  Happy Birthday, my Sophie...my love for you is the purest thing I have ever known....and a pefect day, once a year, is the very least I can give you in return.

a good year

Sophie and I took what has become our annual trip up north to the cottage for a few days after Christmas. It has become one of my favourite traditions for the holidays....leaving the hustle and bustle of work and the city behind for a couple of days so my girl and I can hang out by the fire and walk on the snowy trails together. So we can just be. I don't even take my ipod on those winter walks up north. I listen to the branches of the fir trees dip and creak under the weight of the snow, I listen to my dog's paws hitting ground as she jumps over logs on the path and I listen to the quiet. And I often think about the year that has past and the one that lays before us.

2011, like most years, was filled with a few big moments and many small ones: Sophie and I ran our first 10K together; I won the Buddy award and was promoted at work; a nephew was born, a nephew started walking and a nephew started school; there was sunshine for Girl's Cottage Weekend; the whole family was together for Christmas and many of the long weekends in the summer; I watched my Sophie fly over an agility course again. It was a good year.

Like most people, I have big plans for 2012...resolutions have been made. And I will do my best to see them through so that this time next year, I am looking back, proud of what I have done. However, even if all those plans don't get accomplished...even if all I can say at the end of 2012 is that: I gave my Sophie and Elora a great year; I spent some wonderful summer weekends and the holidays with my whole family; I laughed with my very best girlfriends; I worked hard at my job, then I will be able to say....it was a good year.

my true north

I was at a training course for work this week where I was asked about meaningful moments in my life...moments or events that have affected me and changed me. And even though I work in the pet industry, I still found myself hestitant to mention that bringing a dog into my life was one of most profound, life changing, events ever for me. I was still unsure about how people and even my colleagues would react to that...how it might be percieved. But this course emphasized the importance of finding your true self...and how that would impact and help me as a leader. So, I got brave about the lessons my Sophie, and all the other dogs I have met along the way, have taught me, and I shared that experience with no holds barred.


And what I found was the same reaction that I find everytime that I talk about Sophie: I found comraderie...and empthay....and engagement....and that people were inspired. I found like souls. Or as Anne Shirley from Green Gables would say...I found kindred spirits. And it wasn't because I was speaking "dog" persay to group of pet lovers...it was because I was being genuine...and authentic about the experiences in my life. If I had to put it in it's most basic and fundamental language...Sophie guided me to my most authentic self. And that is what has made the difference. That is where I have found joy...because that is where I have found me. And that is what truly resonates with people...authentic experiences.



It took me a long time to get here...and I never saw it coming....a life found from following a dog. And the lesson, I think, is to be open to unexpected experiences because you never know where they will lead you...no matter how small they may seem. If you are willing to throw your whole heart into those experiences they will change you....and you will never see the world the same again. I looked into the eyes of a dog one day and felt life change....I felt a shift in consciousness. From a dog, of all places. And it's a story that I tell again and again, even when I am unsure of how people might react, simply because it's the most profound truth that I know...it's a story that has real meaning. And I am hoping that my truth not only helps other lost souls find solace , but that it will help them realize that inspiration can come from the unlikeliest of places....as long as you are open to it. I do know that I was I was lucky...Sophie found me when I needed her the most, even though I didn't know it then. Because I never would have guessed that when I brought this tiny puppy into my life that she would end up being my compass...my true north...guiding me to the life I was meant to be living. So find your compass in this world..find your true north....because it will never fail to lead you to authentic joy.

at the heart of it

I like to believe that most of what we do in this world starts out with good intentions...and starts out being aligned with our hearts. But life has this way of running away with you. I took a job three years ago becaused I loved my dog and my cat. Which sounds like an odd reason to take a job....but at the most basic level it really is why I chose to work in the pet industry. And it has been the best decision that I have ever made.





Fast forward three years and I find myself in a more senior role in the same company...in a role where corporate dynamics are harder at play...things like office politics have become more relevant and my day to day work feels more connected to business bottom lines than to pet owners. I was starting to wonder if I had fallen back into the same trap of being more concerned about advancing and climbing the corporate ladder rather than simply engaging in work that I was passionate about. Was I making the same bad choices all over again? And then a cowork said something this week that made me see it differently.





I was venting to this coworker about a meeting I had been at earlier in the day and was visibly frustrated. And she said to me: "Go home and walk Sophie and remember why you love what you do." And I realized she was right...the reason I loved this job and this industry was still there...still relevant. It wasn't the fact that my role at this company had changed...it was more about me. I needed to remember why I chose this job, this company in the first place...and it was never about the day to day tasks, titles or advancement. It was about my passion for pets. At the heart of that decision was my love for Sophie and Elora. And if I remember that, then it doesn't matter what my day to day to work involves....those are just tasks....that love is still at the heart of it. And I believe that if love is at the heart of what you do...at work, on the weekends, whenever...then you are making good choices...you are living an authentic life. Even if things have changed from where they started, if you remember what's at the heart of it, you'll remember why it was the right choice for you. At the heart of my choice, I found a dog and a cat....and a love that I will have forever.

the legacy of a lifetime dog

I've spent the last four and a half years paying attention to dogs and dog owners. And I can easily spot now when the connection between that dog and that owner has developed beyond the standard "This is my pet dog and I love him". I think most dog owners would agree with me, that there are times when you see an owner and their dog and you can tell that they are completely intertwined in each other's lives...that they speak a secret language with one another. You can tell that the right owner found the right dog at the right time and that something truly magical happened. And those are the "lifetime" dogs.

After my last blog post, I received a fair bit of email regarding this notion of lifetime dogs. Just to clarify, Jon Katz, my favourite author, is the one who coined the phrase and idea...but it is a notion that has stuck with me as I believe he has articulated a very real truth within the world of pet ownership. It has also stuck with me, because I know that Sophie is my "lifetime" dog and when you know that fact and you know that you are already in the middle of your all-too-short-time together, it can start to weigh on your mind how much time you only have left together and how you will cope when she is gone.

Anytime a cherished pet is lost, owners experience loss and grief and a heavy sadness. But when an owner loses a lifetime dog, I imagine that they must feel something on a completely different level...that a piece of them has gone missing and is never coming back. Because I feel that already, when I think about a world without Sophie in it. And it's in my nature to prepare myself for the inevitable by thinking about it in advance....and it knocks the very breath out of me everytime. But I can't change the inevitable. So, even in this instance, I take a lesson from Sophie, a lesson from our dogs....focus on today. Live in the moment together and know that whatever happens in the future, she and I will face it together. Because even once she is physically gone...and my heart is broken...her lessons, her love and the changes she brought in my life will comfort me and will endure....and that is the legacy of a lifetime dog.

a bucket list

I was editing a photo of Sophie the other day and was startled to see a bit more grey in her face than before. Just a sprinkle, where her white blaze meets black...but still a sprinkle. And it got me thinking about the time we have spent together...and about the years still ahead for us. We have spent four and a half years together. And in that time we have done a lot. She guided me to writing, to blogging, to photography, to a new career, to a new perspective in life. And together we have run agility courses, have herded sheep, have attempted dock diving, have raised funds for the Terry Fox Run, have run a 10K race, have embarked on road trips around Ontario and even into upstate New York, have camped and cottaged and hiked hundreds of kilometers of trails. And those are just the big things.





I know, without a doubt, that even though I will always have (and love) a dog in my life, that Sophie is my "lifetime" dog, to use a phrase from my favourite author, Jon Katz. She is a dog who came into my life and changed things...she changed me. So as I think about our next few years together, I think about the things I want to do with her...such as take a ten day road trip to PEI -- just Sophie, me and my camera where I can watch her dip her paws in the ocean. So, we now have a "bucket list", Sophie and I, for the next few years...and I intend to cross every single item off that list. Because that's what a lifetime dog does....they spark love and joy and change in you and show you how to soar.

a girl and her dog

I recently had the pleasure of photographing my cousin's dog for her. And through the lens of my camera I saw something so familiar during one photo that it made me smile right to my very core....the kind of smile you feel in your heart. It was the same kind of smile that I get when I see an elderly lady in our neighbourhood walking her Maltese....a little dog also in her twilight years. What I see in both these cases that is so familiar....that makes my heart smile so...is me and Sophie.




I have come to realize this: It doesn't matter if you are a sixteen-year old girl with a new puppy with your whole lives ahead of you....both of you learning to walk in this world together as you become the adults you are going to be, as you decide which paths you are going take with each other. Or if you are a thirty-something year old woman with a five-year old Border Collie, a pair that found one another when it mattered most, that have blazed some important trails together, that are looking forward to the next fork in the road they take together. Or if you are a seventy-year old lady with a mature and dainty Maltese....now able to reminsce about the footprints and pawprints you have left on this earth together, both with hearts that are full from your life with one another. It doesn't matter what breed the dog is or how old the owner is or how long they have been together, because once you strip away all those details...what is left is just a girl and her dog. What is left is their love....and that love brings that dog great joy. And that love makes that girl soar.

no fear

There are many times, even though I am there in the moment, that I don't see the story until I develop the photo. That happened to me recently when I watched my 4 year old nephew jump off our dock at the cottage for the first time. I didn't think much of it then, other than wanting to digitally capture another first at the cottage for Ben, but when I was working on the editing of the photo, I saw the story....a story of no fear.



In the photo I saw a little boy leap into the great unknown...unknown for him, having never jumped off a dock or never been swimming in a lake...and he leaped not just with no fear but with enthusiasm and joy. I was reminded how that is the one of the very qualities that I love about kids and that makes them so easy to photograph...they live their lives with no fear in their hearts. When I was editing this photo of my nephew, I was also able to see why he was able to leap with no fear, as the picture shows him jumping into my brother's (his daddy's) arms. He was able to jump because, instead of feeling fear, he felt love and trust. And I think this ability to live with no fear because of love of trust also exists in many dogs...I definitely recognize it in Sophie.




She follows my commands to jump on this new table or run through this unknown tunnel without hestition because of her relationship with me...she knows I would not send her into peril. She trusts me...and that trust is founded in my love for her. Our kids and our dogs are able to take these leaps of faith because they know they have someone to catch them....and because they know the person advising them to "jump" only has their very best interests at heart. And I think, as adults, we should follow their lead. I have, in the last two and a half years, done more "leaping" than I ever thought possible....and I did it because I knew I had my wonderful family and irreplacable Ya Ya's to catch me if I fell...and that it would be okay if I did. I was also able to leap because, just as Sophie trusts in me to guide her, I trusted in her to guide me and she showed me the true path I was meant to walk in this life. Granted, as adults, our leaps get a bit more complicated than a little boy's first jump off a dock, on a warm summer afternoon, into his daddy's arms. But I can remember my first dock jump as a kid....and I can say with certainty that the adult leaps take just as much as support from the loved ones in our lives as those ones as a kid....and they can bring just as much joy. Living a life with no fear in your heart....I think the kids and the dogs have got it right.

a walk with a dog

There are two things I have realized of late with startling clarity. The first, is that life is busy....and I don't even have kids! But my work is demanding...and I've realized that it is very easy to become a victim of job creep...where despite your best of intentions, the hours that you begin to spend on work (even work that you love) start to take over other facets of your life. And about 2 1/2 years ago, I had made a promise to myself that I would not do that...that I would not become defined by my job. And yet, here I am: blogging infrequently, taking few photos, even missing walks with Sophie in order to work on that presentation, send that email, finish that analysis. And so, I discovered my second realization...it is important, every day, to remind yourself of what you value in this world...of what is worth spending time on...of what is truly in your heart.

My job, that I do love, is important and worth spending time on...but not so much time that I miss out on other pieces of my life. And it is not more important than Sophie. I was reminded of that again today. In the last few weeks, Sophie and I have started running after work by the river that flows through our neighbourhood. Halfway into our run, there is spot where she can access the water. On every run, as we near that spot, she kicks it into high gear and throws herself into that river with gusto...delighting in splashing and swimming around. And to see my girl so blissfully happy makes my heart soar. It makes me grin from ear to ear every single time. And I have yet to find a presentation or a spreadsheet or a meeting that does that. Taking some time each day to hear the sound of Sophie's paws hitting that water is a small thing...and, I realize, is one of the most important things in my life. Because work will alway be there, that water may always be there...but those paws won't.

Sometimes, in this busy life, I forget that a walk with a dog will often remind you what is truly in your heart.

the house that dad built

I moved into a house just over four years ago that, in the kindest of terms, could be called a "fixer-upper". The only reason I bought the house was that I could see through it's current state to it's potential and that I knew what my Dad could do. Not a contractor by trade, but a contractor by hobby, my Dad has had a hand in building some parts of, if not all of, most of the homes and cottages that I've had the pleasure of living in during my life....and they.were. fabulous.




So four years ago, he began with the backyard here and has worked on a piece of this house every fall and winter since...the basement, the front foyer, the kitchen, the main floor bathroom, the second room in the basement, the laundry room...plus some crazy stair and closet renos in between. And this house is like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates...once you start tearing down, you never know what you are gonna get.



Throughout the last four years I know, even though he would never tell me, that my Dad has encountered days of frustration working on this house, due to it's intricacies, that would have caused a lesser man to abandon the project in search of the nearest pub. And through his perseverance, what I have ended up with is not just a house with some fantastic renovations...I've ended up with a house that, as I move from room to room, I can see the reflection of my Dad in.



I can feel his presence in the design of my kitchen; hear his "whistle while he works" in the walls of my rec room in the basement; see his eye for small details in my bathroom. And those nuances will be there forever for me. My Dad lives in the very walls of my house....it is not just the house that Dad built...it is the home that he built...for his work is part of the very essence that makes my house a home. And that is one of the things that I love most about this place...it is the thing I will never be able to put a price tag on.

a moment with buddy

There are those rare times in your life when you realize you are in the middle of having a great moment...a moment that you will remember forever. And to realize it when it is actually happening....not the next day or years later...lets you savour it even more. Many of you who have been reading this blog for while know that, thanks largely in part to my Sophie, I ended up stepping a bit backwards on my planned career path in order to take a job that was more aligned with my values and what I was passionate about -- a job where I get to spend my days talking about pet owners and dogs and cats. And, as I have come to see time and time again, when you follow your heart, great and wonderful things happen.



I was surprised and honoured to be the recipient of a prestigious award at my company's annual banquet this past week. It is an award named for the dog that was the inspiration for my company's very beginning: the Buddy Award. Knowing the caliber of past recipients and of the entire team of people that I work with, who not only excel at their jobs, but are truly passionate about pets, to be chosen for this honour left me absolutely speechless. And when I walked up to accept my award, the entire Canadian company was on their feet clapping and cheering. As I looked out at the crowd, the warmth and affection that I felt for these people and this company welled up in my heart and I knew I would remember that moment, that feeling, forever.



As I took my plaque I thought about Buddy, a dog who had inspired not only a man but an entire company and I couldn't help but think of my own "Buddy". The only thing missing from that night was having Sophie by my side...because she not only helped me find the path to this company, this work and these people, she is at the heart of what motivates and drives me every day. Sophie may not have inspired the formation of an entire company like Buddy did, but because of Sophie an entire company was on their feet for a minute or so one April evening, giving a girl the best moment of her career so far. My moment with a dog named Buddy....thanks to a dog named Sophie....I will never forget it.

tenderness

I have written often about the lessons that I have learned from Sophie...from dog love. I am still suprised, however, every time I catch myself seeing something differently in this word, or that I may have missed all together if it wasn't for Sophie...often things that have nothing to do with dogs.





In the last four years, since Sophie entered my life, I have become very tuned in to the moments, the tenderness, that often happens between a dog or a cat and their owner. I love when I catch a glimpse of those moments....an owner kneeling down in the dog park, taking her dog's face in her hands and kissing him right on the end of the nose; a co-worker's entire face lighting up as she tells us the antics her cat got up to the night before. Because of how I feel about Sophie, I am always aware of those glimpses of tenderness between other owners and pets...and now I realize that awareness has moved beyond just moments with dogs and cats.





On a recent trip to the US, while staying with my best friend, her lovely little three year old daughter quietly slipped into bed with me early one morning. She lay her head on my shoulder and said, "I think we should get up and start our day now." And it was a perfect moment...one I will carry in my heart always. Then, in a hotel in Orlando, I saw an older couple in the corridor in front of me notice a crib outside of one room. The man turned to his wife and said: "Remember when we were living in those days...when the kids were just babies?" And he gently took her hand...like he has probably done a million times before. And I smiled, unnoticed by the couple, at the tenderness I saw exchanged between them. Sophie brought those kind of moments into my life, made me really see them, and that has enabled me to appreciate them where ever they may turn up...in a hallway in a hotel or snuggled under the covers early on a Friday morning.

a swell of love

There are times when I look over at her...

as I am working or cooking or reading a book...

and I can feel my love for her swell up and spill over in my heart.

She is the greatest gift I have ever known.

granola and manolos

Around this time back in 2009, I wrote a post about how I had abandoned my quest for a more stylish self...as someone who pined for designer labels and a keen fashion sense....and instead was more content in comfortable, functional attire and on the trails in the outdoors with my Sophie. I had gone "granola" my little sister often said to me during that year. This same sister recently reminded me of this post as I babbled excitedly about a new handbag I had been coveting for a few months and, having saved enough, was off to purchase the week after Christmas. Her words have stuck with me these past couple of weeks....was I being a hypocrite? Or what had changed? Which one of these people was the real me? And I came to the conclusion today, that nothing had changed nor was I being a hypocrite....I was in fact both of these people. I didn't have to choose...and that is something Sophie has taught me.

I have seen Sophie in pure Border Collie working mode....herding sheep, tail low, eyes focussed...and then two days later have seen her rolling around in the snow, leaping in crazy figure eights out of pure silly joy. I have seen her quiet and cuddly on a couch with my Dad while he read the paper for an hour and I have seen her, in those early days, crazed and manic on an agility course, spittle flying with every piercing bark. The point is she is all of those dogs rolled into one loveable Sophie. And in every instance she is just being herself. And that is the lesson....be yourself in every moment. Whether it's in a stylish boutique in Yorkville or on the trails in northern Ontario, you can be anything you want any day of the week.

So, after Christmas, Sophie and I headed north to the cottage for a few days and we loved every minute of it. With a huge grin on my face, I walked the frozen lake with her and simply enjoyed being outside, in the peaceful, cold, quiet of winter, with my girl. And then we headed home where, with a huge grin on my face, I walked into the boutique and bought my handbag. I can eat granola while wearing my favourite pair of Manolos...a lesson I learned from one hard working, playful, subdued, manic border collie.

the greatest gift

With Christmas just around the corner, much of the discussion at work and many of the emails I have received from readers of this blog, have been focussed on what we give our pets for Christmas....and I've been asked quite a few times what I plan on getting for Sophie. I fully admit that I am one of the those owners, like many out there, who purchase gifts for my pets over the holidays. But I also recognize that the "stuff" I buy...the whole routine of deciding what to buy, the shopping in the store, the wrapping of a new toy....all of that is for me, not for Sophie or Elora. I love Christmas shopping for my family...and I consider Sophie and Elora part of my family so it warms my heart to include them in my holiday gift giving...even though they do not understand the concept of Christmas.





I do believe however, that there is no amount of "stuff" in any pet store that can equal the greatest gift of all we can give our animal companions...and that is the gift of our time. So early Christmas morning, probably before Santa has even finished his rounds, Sophie and I will be on the trails, hopefully enjoying some fresh fallen snow, and my girl and I will spend the first few magical hours of the holiday together in one of her favourite places. It will cost me zero dollars...and it will mean the world to her. That's the greatest gift that I can give her....and I will love every minute of it.

the work that they do

I have recently returned from travelling for a series of regional business meetings. As some of you know I am fortunate enough to work in the pet industry….so I spend my days talking about dogs, cats and the human-animal bond and working with fellow pet lovers. It is not only perfectly acceptable, but it is expected, that the conversations over meals during these meetings were focused on how much we were missing our own pets, swapping stories about how our animals made us laugh, about how much they mean to us. These conversations and these weeks of travel got me thinking about the notion of work….not of ours per say but of the work that our animals do. In the traditional sense the work of animals, specifically dogs, has been defined by activities like herding, guarding, guiding, searching and rescuing, etc. Their jobs have also expanded into arenas like therapy and hospice work. These are all important jobs performed by remarkable dogs. But the work that I got thinking about is the work that our ordinary, run of the mill dogs and cats do every day...the jobs they do for us – individually as pet owners – and for us collectively as a group.

The work that Sophie has done for me and continues to do for me is the very thing that this blog was built upon on. Initially, simply in becoming a dog owner, her work was to teach me about patience, about communication, about how to build connections, about perseverance. When my life was turned upside down, her work became comforting me, inspiring me, showing me the possibility of a different path...of slowing down, of figuring out what brings me joy and chasing after it with no looking back. And as our lives have become so intertwined, her work continues – she is my muse, in both my personal and professional life – a huge job for one little dog but one that she does beautifully. And the work of our pets is not limited to our dogs….our cats have equally demanding roles. If Sophie is my muse, Elora is my heart….quiet, steady and always, always there. Her job is to be my touchstone…my constant in world full of change…my rock. Her very presence is what I define as home…again, another huge job for such a small girl, but she does it, without fail, every day.

As we talked about our pets over breakfast and dinners during these regional meetings, the work that these animals do was apparent time and time again. Stories were told, not just about the unique, personal roles that these dogs and cats play in their owners lives, but also the work that they do in general for many people in this world – people they may only interact with in a brief and fleeting moment….bringing smiles to strangers faces with their wagging tails and easy demeanors; lifting spirits of troubled souls, even if it’s just a for a few minutes, with their exuberance and infectious enthusiasm for life; easing tension between co-workers with their simple, unconditional love for any and all people.

This kind of work that our animals perform….it is not because we tell them to do these jobs, or because they get rewarded…it’s simply what they do, it’s part of their very nature. And after my weeks of travels, I found myself writing this on the plane as I flew home eager to see Sophie and Elora because I was thinking about what our lives might be like if that wasn’t the case…if it was not their nature. I know for me, and I think I can say for most of the people that I spent time with at these meetings and for most of you who continue to visit Finding Sirius, our lives would have less…less joy, less comfort, less laughter and, definitely, less love. The work that they do….be thankful for it and love them for it.

the mean cat

I’m going to say the thing that no cat owner should say: Elora, whom I love to my very core, is a mean cat. My 3 year old nephew, who knows his own cat’s name, who knows not only Sophie’s name, but all of her nicknames too, knows Elora simply as “The Mean Cat” –emphasis on the “The”. And it is the simple truth.

She was standoffish even as a kitten at 6 weeks old….the last of her litter waiting to be adopted at the shelter as her brothers and sisters were cuddly and affectionate while Elora sat in the corner staring at potential owners – even then with a cool gleam in her eye daring one of them to make the slightest move in her direction. But when I saw her I immediately took to her….attitude and all. Elora does all the things a mean cat should….she hisses at unfamiliar people in her house; she swats the hand that lingers on her fur a little too long; she has been known to give Sophie a perfect left jab -- followed by a fierce right hook, to her nose simply for walking by at too quick of a pace. She is wary of people, mildly tolerant of Sophie and lives with me on her own terms. She is the cat that I have to tuck into a bedroom when visitors come by, the cat that I have to apologize for to family members when a swat makes contact and….and she is the cat that I love.

My bond with Elora is just as strong as the one I have with Sophie. Although I too have received my share of warning strikes with a soft but firm paw, I have also received the kind of affection from her that you take notice of, that you remember…partly because it’s coming from a mean cat. She will cuddle with me on the couch, purring up a storm; she will play with a ball that I toss for her – like a kitten of 6 months; and she will weave between my feet as I make dinner in the kitchen, soft and warm, relishing in her contact with me. As much as I chose Elora that day in the shelter, she has chosen me back in return…as her human, her companion in this life. The love of a mean cat….it slips quietly in and finds a place deep in your heart and takes hold for life.

the kind of strength

My blog is "loosely" themed around my life with Sophie and Elora...but every now and then again I post about something slightly off topic because something moves me or speaks to me in a unique and profound way. My gracious followers...many of whom I know are fellow pet lovers and are here for Sophie and Elora not me per say...seem to give me that little bit of leeway now and then and still continue to come back and for that I thank you. I had intended, this week, to write about Elora and still have that post (and a few pics) ready to go...but I ask you instead to indulge me as I would like to veer from the stories of pets to comment briefly on the recent stories of strength that I have been witness to of late...stories that have moved me to my core.




I do not have children of my own but am blessed by the presence of children in my life through my wonderful nephews and through the children of my very best girlfriends. Even without having gone through it myself, I realize that the act of becoming a parent is quite likely the most wonderful, most life altering, most difficult and most rewarding experience out there. And I have seen, especially through the lens of my camera, how remarkable, whimsical, innocent and joyful children truly are....for a few brief years they get to live under the wonderful umbrella of no mistakes, no wrongs, no regrets, no responsiblities...other than to taste the world and start to become the person they will be. And that is a tremendous thing to see.




But I have also seen up close, in the last few months, a mother, in a room at SickKids Hospital, make her one year old son's face light up with a smile while a nurse adjusted his feeding tube...a device required to help him gain the weight he needed to in order to thrive. I have seen a busy mother of three, time and time again, bring a huge selection of homemade chicken fingers, cookies and more, to group gatherings so her four year old son, diganosed with autism a year ago, can stay on the diet that's best for him while still enjoying many of the foods that "all the other kids get to eat". And I have read the emails of another mother, sent out to her best girlfriends to let them know of her three year old daughter's recent diagnosis of diabetes, and these emails were filled with words of resolve and with words of hope and with words of bravery....she and her daughter were meeting the diagnosis head on, were getting educated and, it seemed, would not pause for a second to feel sorry for themselves or to ask "why me?". In that hospital room, at those group gatherings, in those emails I saw not only an unyeilding strength in these mothers, but the strength they gave their children and, in all three cases, felt my eyes well up with tears...not with sadness, not with sympathy...but with pride....and with love. I was so proud to know them...to have people in my life like that to model myself after.




I know how it feels when one of my animals is in pain or is suffering...so I can barely imagine how that must feel for a mother when it's her child. So to see a mother stand strong and make her little guy or girl laugh as his tube is adjusted or her finger is pricked to test blood sugar levels, knowing that a mom's tears would only make it worse for them...well, that's the kind of stength, the kind of stuff, that legends are made of. To those three mothers I know, I do not have the words to describe my admiration for your kind of strength...nor my love for you and for those kids.