and that's family

This column originally ran back in July of last year...when I used to take the train to work. :)

I heard a woman on the train the other morning talking to her friend about family. “A family,” she said, “is a husband, a wife and their kids.” The way she said it was so absolute and so final. Afterward, her statement tumbled around in my mind for days. I came to the conclusion that in a world that is so diverse, so ever-changing, and so rift with conflict and challenges, that her definition was simply not going to cut it. While I have been lucky enough to have that kind of family in my life, through my parents, my siblings and through Jones, my time with Sophie has shown me that there should be a much wider definition to that word.



I know of a man who was diagnosed with terminal cancer. On one sunny afternoon in June, this man and his wife attended a backyard party hosted by another man and his three sons. This man and his wife had stood, unwavering with love, behind these four other men almost two decades ago and ever since, when a wife and mother was lost to an earlier battle against that same terrible disease. And on that June afternoon, the sweet summer air was rich with deep feelings of friendship and generosity and compassion. And the wall of support that these two groups of people have built around themselves was so strong that I felt like I could reach out and touch it. And that’s family.



I have four girlfriends that I have grown up with through the years. They are my constants in this world. I can count on them to celebrate my greatest moments, to mourn my deepest sorrows and nothing I do in this life would be complete without them. Almost all my memories, all of my laughter and all of my heart is wrapped up in them. And that’s family.


I have one dog who has led me down a path of discovery that I could have never imagined. She brings a kind of joy into my life that I find difficult to put down on paper because it is so all consuming. Her unconditional love makes even the toughest days bearable and my bond with her is important and valuable and precious. And that’s family.



I don’t believe that family can be defined in terms of roles or even species. It is built around our connections with others and it brings out the best versions of ourselves. It is made up of the beings in our life that stick with us through the hard stuff. That keep us grounded and whole and content. That touch our souls. That love us…no matter what. And that’s family.

three

The last of her litter left at local humane society. She was a little bit more standoffish than her brothers and sisters, a little more cautious, perhaps even a bit cynical....and thus was passed over for the friendlier, more cuddly kittens. But she still wanted to be loved. I think she was just waiting for the right person...and I found her. And she is loved.


shelter photo posted online (10 weeks old)

Happy Birthday, Elora.

on the mend

There have been a few requests for an update on Sophie (since developing a throat infection). It's so nice to know that she has so many caring friends in bloggerland. I am happy to report that she seems to be feeling much better today and is completely back to her energetic, robust self.



It's nice to have her back to being Sophie....the house, life, me....are just not the same without her.

sunday stills - go high, go low

This week's Sunday Stills challenge is focused on the perspective of the shooter...finding shots from high and low angles, up and down, off center, etc. I chose my two favorite subjects and ended up with four favorite photos: two up and two down. I couldn't pick just one out of the four. Would love to hear which one you like the best, think works the best...


looking down on elora


looking down on sophie


looking up at elora


looking up at sophie (this was the hardest angle to get)

saturday morning - the cost of maybe

Unfortunately, Sophie and I were not able to head out on our regular Saturday morning adventure today. As of Thursday night, she is suffering from a pretty bad throat infection and is laid up on the couch with antibiotics. I am happy to report that she seems to be feeling better this evening and more like her usual, robust self...but we are going to take it easy until Monday or so anyway.



As I spent the morning at home with Sophie, I thought about the age old discussion regarding when do you decide that a pet needs to see a veterinarian, how much money is the right amount to spend on a pet and so on. I know there are many different view points and everyone's situation is unique and personal. I thought I would share mine (right or wrong), as the thoughts were tumbling around my head the last couple of days.



Sophie is my first dog. Dogs, given that they are out and about in the world (all of my cats have been indoor cats), seem to get into more trouble than cats. Especially Border Collies. Trouble such as: cuts, bruises, sprains, scratched eyes, and their affinity for eating the most disgusting, inedible things they come across. As I have gotten more experienced in the arena of canine ownership, I am becoming better at identifying which ailments will pass and mend on their own versus which ones required the expertise of a veterinarian. In any case, if I am even slightly unsure, I choose to take Sophie to a vet.



The reason I choose to take her is because of the cost of maybe. If I take her to the vet...maybe she would have gotten better on her own or maybe she did need the treatment. If I do not take her to the vet...maybe she will get better on her own or maybe she will get worse without treatment and not recover. In the first scenario, the biggest cost of maybe is that I could lose some hard earned dollars out of my bank account for no reason as she would have healed on her own. But in the second scenario, the biggest cost of maybe is that I could lose everything. I could lose Sophie. And that is simply not a price I am willing to pay.



If I had the choice between $10, 000 in the bank or one more day with Sophie....I can say, with perfect certainty, that my only choice would be which trails we would hike that day. And there is no maybe about it.

wcb - soul cat

If there is an animal that you cannot hide from....that can look into your eyes and see your intentions, your true nature....your soul....it is a cat. Elora is my soul cat.

submission for weekend cat blogging #191, hosted by tabbylicious

home....

I’m back from spending almost a week in the city at a work conference. It was a good week but long and exhausting. Our hotel was right in the heart of Toronto. Each morning I would wake up early so I could walk down the street to get myself a cup of Tim Horton’s coffee. In the darkness of the early morning, as I walked by the beautiful storefronts, recognizing the posh designer names….Prada, Hermes, Chanel…I caught a glimpse of my reflection in their windows. Good, solid winter hiking boots; a functional, well-worn parka; one of Jones’ castaway toques on my head. Anything but posh or designer. A couple of years ago, this would have distressed me….I would have ached to look like the women that breeze so confidently and stylishly into those stores. But this week, looking at my reflection, my ache was for something different. It was for my four legged companion who usually accompanies me on my early morning walks. It was for Sophie.


the view from my hotel room at the conference

This week was the longest we have ever spent apart. And by day four I was feeling a bit low…consumed with a yearning to go home. I used to travel quite a lot for business and had never felt like this. But this was my first travel away from home since Sophie came into my life. There is that old expression that says home is where the heart is. This week I realized that although I always carry her in my heart where ever I am...home is where Sophie is. And I was homesick.

the view from my home....from my heart