Breakfast Jones

I don't know why, but I feel the need to let this one out. The heartache, the pain, the shock, it's fresh. Breakfast Jones, my sweetest boy, my best friend, my copilot, my adventure buddy, my first dog of my very own... my life saver. Gone.

I knew his end was coming, and no matter how often people tried to ease my sadness with their optimism of how happy he was, how healthy he looked, how long of a life he still had left; I knew. I swear I knew it for a long time that it was coming. I even grieved it in front of him, knowing it wasn't going to get better. I held him many times and told him how hard that goodbye would be. I just didn't imagine it would ever happen this way. But dare I say, he left this world in the best way possible. No suffering, no nothing. He just ran for the ball and his world went black.

I swear he gave me a gift with his end, by relieving me of ever having to make the choice of when to end his life. The quality of that life was becoming so evident that it was challenging on him, and my heart. He just wasn't the same. I actually missed him even when he was sitting right there in front of me. He taught me a heck of a lesson about presence, and soaking up every beautiful moment while they last. I'm so glad we had 9 long years together. I swear, there are at least a million fields and trails in this city that we've spent countless hours in, chasing ball, sitting in the grass, gazing at the clouds or the stars. Thousands of walks, millions of steps, side by side. SO much playtime! We even had a neighbour thank us recently, for the entertainment and joy he provided, by being the ham that he was when I treated him to a ball too big for him to fit in his mouth. He truly was a bottle of unlimited happiness. It was contagious, and yet I know I provided it.

When his blindness started to take hold, two years ago, I was in a bit of a slow state of panic. I wanted to fix it, make it better, clear out those eye clouds with a tiny little vacuum just so he could see and do the things he did with SO much energy. Heavy handed, bull headed, absolutely a loose cannon when it came to playing at full tilt. It's almost comical he left this world doing what he has always done. I mean, I'm so glad he died happy. It's how he has always been.

I can't even describe the way he changed my life. I had no idea I could ever love a dog so much, but I chose him, as he chose me (at 8 weeks old) with a lick on the nose when I said "hi" to him for the first time. He was my one and only, my best friend, my sweetest four-legged love. I was reflecting on our time not too long ago, and how he has been with me since I lived in Calgary. SO long ago, and my goodness we have both grown up so much since then. He was there during a crucial time in my life. It was the year everything changed, as I left a 9 year relationship (the same age as Breakfast left this world) to be on my own, not knowing what the eff I was doing. I try not to dwell on what I would have done differently, knowing what I know now; but I wasn't afraid... because of him.

It's tough to be honest about just how much he saved me, too. I used to be incredibly anxious, and afraid of the world; so badly that I went months without ever leaving the house even for a minute. I was paralyzed by old trauma, which I hadn't faced at that time, and without knowing, he provided me a cure to a very hard and dark phase of depression; where I had once thought it wasn't going to get better. With him, there was no way of keeping myself contained. I had to get outside and be there for him, to show him the world. My fears of being seen, just suddenly faded away. Day by day, step by step, on every adventure, he introduced me to things I never dreamed of seeing. It's an endless scrapbook of memories that are just for the two of us. A special thing to treasure as I do my best to accept that this is where it ends.

The biggest gift he provided was the joy of summer. I grew up playing outdoors, so the nostalgia of the sights, the sounds, the colours, the smells; he showed me such a rainbow of beauty I'd almost forgotten about. He also got me out of my shell, he pushed me through my fears, he really got me out there; especially when it came to meeting new people. We'd walk in any direction, around any neighbourhood we could find, for hours on end, numerous times a day, getting lost on purpose. On my own, I don't think I would have had the courage to do so. That's something I can never thank him enough for. Life. Hell, I named him Breakfast because I'd made lists of gratitude, to ease myself out of my own darkness. Incredible what that name will always mean to me now. Something so sweet and simple. The best way to start the day, indeed.

I'll always be so grateful for the smiles he generated just by being himself, or the surprise that came when I'd tell people his name. That smile of his was so damn contagious... never mind those shit (funny) moments when he'd take the time to soak in mud puddles (or splash parks) to cool off from the heat. I don't want to forget how hard he'd run for it, to scoop his belly in the cool water, and breathe deep with that big dumb smile of his. My god, I'll miss it. So many silly memories, I'm glad to say, with confidence, that I know I gave him such a happy life. Of course, he did the same for me.

I noticed big changes in him, especially over the past couple of years. I knew that my time with him was becoming really limited when I saw how badly his blindness started to take his mind with it. He was disoriented, very nervous, VERY unaware of how much he actually needed to slow down. He's a bit like me in so many ways, in that regard. He didn't know how to stop, and no one was going to take away the things he always knew and loved throughout his lifetime. He had a bit of an "I got this" attitude, and so, I see the dangers there when it really is so necessary to STOP before someone gets hurt. It wasn't easy to slow down, for either of us, but I also knew it was necessary to stop more often and soak it up while it lasted.

And yet, this end is so horribly bizarre for the timing. My life itself is changing in a way that I knew was going to be hard on him. It was almost a little cornering in a sense where I knew that doing something for myself was going to have to put him in an ending position. There's no way he could come with me, with his level of stress and uncertainty. But how? How on earth do you make those choices? I paused, I froze, I just couldn't even imagine.  I think I was swept away by a new wave of depression, by trying my damn best to hang on for dear life. How do you say goodbye to someone you love so damn much? I think he could sense it in me that I was falling so hard to get that container back. To lock things up, and try to hide from life and death itself. Goodness knows that doesn't work, and he wasn't about to let me go back to that place again. He loved me hard. I felt it. He knew I was breaking inside.

It's a big part of why I brought a new boy into our posse. It wasn't an easy choice for me to make (for years) because Breakfast was just such a solo roller and I loved giving him my absolute attention. It wasn't the easiest transition, and I really did mourn the loss of 'just the two of us.' Still, I did it for my heart, knowing that when the time came, I wouldn't be alone. Honestly, without Birdie here right now, I doubt I'd be able to peel myself off the floor, or go outside. Actually, today was my first day taking him out to the market (in Breakfast's harness) to see what sort of universe we have gotten to experience through the years. It's like the torch was passed, like Breakfast died knowing I'm taken care of.

I plan on moving back to the west coast, as it has held onto my heart since the day we left it. Breakfast came with me the first time, and I will always remember that magical freedom of adventure as we looked at the ocean in front of us, driving through mountains, soaking our feet on the shores, hopping rocks and simply breathing in the gorgeous open space between the trees. Nature sure is a healer, and he took me through it all with such courage. We were unstoppable. Actually, one of our songs on that trip was 'Nothing's Gonna Stop us Now.' A happy song, with a funny sort of confidence neither of us knew how to handle. All we knew is that we were happy so long as we were together.

I can go on for ages about this profound experience, and how someone so small and special has come and gone; and the impact he left on my life. How much I've grown and changed because of him, and how damn grateful I'll always be for finding him. He really did save my life from a darkness I didn't know how to escape from. The mark he left on my heart and soul will remain forever. My god, the impact. I have been shaking my head a lot in absolute amazement. All of it. Start to finish.

And while I mourn, and smile, and cry and laugh at the memories we had,  it's the sweet stuff that hurts the most to accept as an end. I'll miss his comforting snores, the way he'd "falump" when he licked my nose, how he'd sleep against my back or let me spoon him at night. How he'd lick my fingers when I was in the bath, how he'd stomp when he wanted me to throw the damn ball; the huffing efforts it took for him to burrito in a blanket nest just right, how he'd "mmm" when I squeezed him or scratched his tummy, his hilariously timed toots, boobie scratches, ear rubs, that tiny nose of his. Ugh, Binky, my sweet wonderful little lump of love. I miss you so much already. I knew this day had to come, somehow. I just feel like you did your best, by sparing my heart from having to decide when it was your time, by taking it into your own hands.  You knew I was haunted by time, and it brought me to overwhelming tears so often, wanting to contain all of those sweet wrinkles and smells that made you the only Breakfast Jones there is. We took full advantage of what we could, of our time together, and I am glad to say I have no regrets, no guilt or wishes I'd done more somehow. I know I gave you something special, just as you provided to me, without debt, without effort. That's love, and that's the lesson. You showed me a beautiful return, with a beautiful end. I mean, despite the heartache of it all, it's the happiest end I could have asked for.

And so, when we shared our final moments, in the quiet room of the vet's office, his body lifeless and still, his eyes lost of shine, his beautiful paws crossed in a strange running stand still, in absolute silence, knowing I'd never see him again, I pressed my face into his cheek, grabbed those sweet folds of skin, I smelled him in,  and said "Thank you, I love you so much, my sweet boy. You saved my life, and I will never forget it."

Oh how I miss you already.

time capsule

I don't know how I feel about blogging anymore, though I'd say that I definitely needed some time away. I keep meaning to write about stuff, the way I used to, but something lost its charm. I think it has a lot to do with ownership, and how we maintain healthy boundaries; in a world where expression gets bombarded by opinion.

When you're someone who is comfortable with expression, but anxious with communication... you enter a weird sort of atmosphere where you feel like you're being watched, and expected to perform in a certain way. If you're not careful, you might hurt feelings or offend someone; and my goodness I've learned to bite my tongue with a lot of things. I adjusted what I like to share with others, and what I like to keep to myself. I'm kind of enjoying the latter, because not everything needs to be shared with the world.

Still, there will always be a side of me that wants to write things down and keep my memories in tact. This place contains years of my life, which I am so glad I took the time to record. I can literally go back in time and see pieces of my life, what I was learning, who I met along the way, and what type of person I was becoming; especially since 2015 (our biggest adventure) while 2017 threw me for a really big loop which I still believe I'm recovering from.

But, before I ramble with a recap of all that has happened in my life since the last time I wrote... life is good, life is scary, life is sad, life is lovely, and holy crap is it changing fast. I just want to take it in and put it down in front of me, because I know I'm going to look back at it and wish I'd put it in a time capsule... to treasure forever.

Deep breaths. And we're back.

see for companionship

Just moments ago, I had to break up -another- dog fight. For some time now, I've noticed major differences in my boy; and it has to do with his eyes. He's losing his vision, and pretty quick.

This year has been an absolute mess of change, especially when it comes to health. I don't really need to recap what's up with my own health (see previous posts) but I can say it has been pretty rocky. While Breakfast is the -healthy- Michael Phelps of playtime, his vision was brought to my attention about a year ago. I was told it was cataracts, and that they could eventually leave him blind over the span of a few years. I'd say that in this year alone, I've noticed a drastic difference in his behaviour, already.

I've been told by so many people, that dogs just naturally go blind, and they live their lives happy as can be. Sure, he never complains. Dogs are amazing that way. The trouble is that this completely alters our lifestyle, because it is becoming dangerous to be around other dogs (because he can't see and becomes defensive.) While this is a super sad reality to face, and a little embarrassing, I hate to admit that the idea of keeping him secluded, for safety, makes my own anxiety run around in all directions. I didn't get a dog to stay indoors, to walk him in a baby stroller (what is that?) or to avoid the outside world for his own safety. Introvert or not, you might be surprised to know that I got a dog for the opposite reasons.

Breakfast is the reason why I go outside every single day. When we first moved to this city, I had no idea where I was. To get to know our surroundings, I was able to get out, go for long walks with the comfort of his company; and figure out where we were. It helped me find my way back home (intentionally getting lost is fun) and it also helped me meet the people I know today. We have a number of really cool acquaintances who I never would have met, if it wasn't for him. I rely on him for a social connection, just as he relies on me for a bit of the same thing. Sadly, his intros to new dogs has been a bit of a hit and miss, lately, because he can't trust without seeing clearly. With this major shift in our groove, I can't say I'm welcoming to the idea of just letting nature take its course, and accept the sad reality that my best friend is going blind.

If we're going to get into the "just a dog" talk, you can leave now. If you want to talk about the money involved, and how it could be spent on other things, we may have differences in our perception of value. Everyone has an opinion. Take away the dog and the reality is a massive loss in connection. I got a dog to make sure to go outside (every day, multiple times), to push my comforts, to be around strangers, to mingle with crowds, to meet new faces, to converse on days I'd likely go about it alone; to share stories with others about the big time love that these little lives provide. It's amazing to connect with perfect strangers, and relate to that common bond, based on love. Dogs are magical little beings, and I think the world could use more of them. MORE love, please!

Breakfast is an incredible soul. He's contagiously happy, and often encourages others to play without even directly inviting them in. He is my inner child on 4 legs. Everything is a game, and there's always a reason to play. Even on my toughest of days, he has been there, to make me smile, and to make sure I get back on my feet again. He even got me running after him, this summer, to exercise and enjoy the freeness of racing through the grass. He is a fountain of youth who needs to play. It's weird to see that shift when he suddenly gets lost, loses sight of the game, or even in some cases... runs into me when he's running toward the glare of the sun. Those things are certainly safe (and comical, yes) when it's just the two of us. But, the rest of the world, sadly.. they don't know. It's where someone can get hurt, and I really can't stand that added tension. Isolation isn't helpful to anyone who enjoys giving so much as we do. Ask either one of us to just stop, it's not going to happen. I got a dog to live in and enjoy this world, not to hide from it.

So, once my own mess of health tests and pokes and whatnot are sorted, it looks like B is next in line for a push in the right direction. I feel this is such a massive year for major alterations toward the better, the more positive, the more honest, and the literal seeing more clearly. I have no idea how this is going to go down, but it can only go up from here. Fingers crossed, and deep breaths. I want my boy back, to see the world as it is, to be safe from the unknown (as other dogs will approach), and live his happiest days the way he has always seen them. I feel it's not only best for him, but for both of us. There's still so much of this world to see, together!

I will be keeping up with this and problem solving for possible crowd funding and art tradesies. There is always a way to share the love from all sides.

Twisted Cyster

Just writing a little something about the status of my health situation. If you can believe it, I'm still waiting for tests to confirm what's going on inside my body (since June). With my CT scan approaching at the end of this month, I'd like to think that surgery won't be too far around the corner. Get this jerk out!

Overall, I'm feeling okay. I'm a little sore at times, often tired, and occasionally uneasy. Doctors are still running tests on my kidneys, my chest, my stomach, my hormones, my adrenals, blood.. you name it. It's exhausting, but I'm happy (and nervous) for getting the answers I need, in order to get better. The hope is that the removal of this (4") beast will help the rest of my body shift back to normal again. I'm keeping my thoughts in a positive place, eating healthy meals to boost my heart and mind, exercising, meditating, resting when needed. It's all I can do for now, while the waiting game continues. 2 more weeks and we'll be closer to the answers we need. In the meantime, take care of yourself, and go get the answers; if you feel you have questions about your health. It might be scary to ask, and get tests done, but you don't want to wait for it to become an answer you don't want to hear. Fingers crossed about the upcoming tests, and surgery to follow.

Will share more of this process as I go. Thank you all for your support through this sh*t!

summer 17

It has been a while since I've taken the time to write about anything at all. Lately, I do so much of it on paper, keeping it to myself in the old fashioned way. The trouble with blogging, is I have adopted a bit of an attitude of "who cares anyway?" because really, I know there are more important things going on in this world than how I spent my summer. Still, this digital journal was something I started for myself years ago, back when people didn't really do much blogging. I'm just here to feel good about what there is to feel good about. You (possible reader) don't have to care, though it would be weird of you to be here reading this if you didn't. I think this is where the internet and social media have been crumbling the expression of happiness. It's all our own, and no one else's. That's why people tend to speak out against it. Whatever. This world is messed. This is my life stuff... you don't have to like it at all.

This summer has been incredibly life altering. After 6 years of looking for a place to stop, we finally did. It's sort of disorienting but in the best way. For a long while, I didn't know if I'd ever find a home here, in Edmonton. 6 years is a long time of packing up and moving, and starting over every other year. You lose sight of yourself in the mix of so much shifting. It's like living your very own Groundhog Day, trying to start over with the next place, and live. It breaks you. It makes you lose sight of so much, and yet it brings a lot into your view when it comes to appreciating what's there over what isn't. Still, it's tough. I eventually thought maybe it was a sign I wasn't wanted in this world at all. That might sound incredibly dark or morbid, but I have the tendency to feel that way about life at times. Once I finally found a place that welcomed me, and allowed me to trust and balance and BE.. it changed. It was like landing in the middle of a magical world that finally stands still. Yet, it has always been there. And, so have I. I belong here.

In all honesty, I spent so much of my summer mending a broken heart. Love is a really tough thing for me to release; when I hang onto so many things so deeply, tightly, and gratefully as I do for those I hold in my arms. I was very much in love. Deep, hard, heavy; but the sad reality was that the world had other plans. Life and timing most certainly got in the way. With so much instability swirling around both of our separate worlds, it was just so difficult to provide much at all with focus. It's incredibly sad when you finally stop spinning, and it has all ended in front of you. Like a magnificent blur. A sort of dream. It was a love that took me 36 years to find, and it has felt like an incredible sacrifice to have lost it as I have gained so much of what I need from my surroundings. They suck me in. I do love it, but damn, it's an empty feeling to find the world you were looking for, with an evident missing piece from your side. At least memory is a wonderful gift. I smile warmly at what was, and also more certainly at what is. Despite the emptiness that comes with such heartache, I know I'm in a much better place with myself.

I have also faced a lot of my own personal shadows. From my struggles with anxiety, depression, insecurity, and self worth; it has really become so clear where I needed to clean up some clutter. I'd carried a lot with me through the years, simply because I didn't have time to stop and think about it. In other cases, I was actually running from it too. You can't run from what you need to face. And so, I've come to accept these as pieces of my life that will remain as a chapter in my life story. It doesn't own or define me, it's just what was. Accepting self, life, family, circumstance.. it's like learning to take yourself in for all that you are. Resent, remorse, regret; they don't exist. With these open fields, and endless skies, I speak freely, I breathe deeply, and feel myself return. It's weird what your surroundings can do to your mind. It's just like suddenly the world presented itself to me and said,  "hey... we can really ease the load and just BE. You're the best at being you. So be it. You are worthy of love, WITH all of your imperfections. Just take care of you, and the rest will follow." 

If you say so, world.

I'm proud of all of the hard work that I've done... including the -real- actual work. It's my third year running a business, and while I'm probably the busiest I've been in my experience as an entrepreneur, I'm actually working less, and in more control. I don't put work at the top of my list of priorities, because health/mental health, well being, quality of life, family, loved ones, come way above the work itself in terms of value and importance. While I'm grateful to do what I love, and be supported for it; work, emails, messages, social media, followers, stats; it isn't my every waking moment. I have to take time, in order to gain strength to keep myself going. I'm the engine of my business.. and that engine needs to be taken care of in order to keep running. I rarely do late nights unless the creativity strikes. I see my strengths at the right times, and for that, I'm able to provide the best service I can. It all has its own payback, because I'm happiest when I can provide the quality I wish to represent. The money itself is not even nearly as important as the value of life and my purpose. I feel my health situation really put this into perspective to keep that in mind. Work will never take me away from what matters in this world. Life, you are number one. 

I no longer put the pressure on myself to do so much at once. I make a habit to reach out and tell someone when I'm in need of help, or  in need of someone to talk to. Needing isn't needy. By habit, I tend to do so much on my own so willingly, because I like to learn by getting my hands on things. I live to learn, but sometimes that can keep so much at a distance from entering my life. Letting it in by reaching out is an incredible lesson in also understanding my own self worth. Just because I can get annoyed at my own incessant need to understand it all, doesn't mean it's an inconvenience to others if I have questions. "Just because you can do it alone, doesn't mean you have to." I feel my health has taught me to exercise this message. I'm learning about how to stop trying to be my all. I'm glad I enjoy my own company and how curious I am to expand and understand things, but it really does shut out a lot of what wants to come in. I open my arms far more willingly these days than I have in most of my lifetime. I have to remind myself that this isn't a weakness. Help is aways there. You just have to ask.

In regards to my health, the waiting game to get tests done has not been easy on my mind. I'm stressed. I'm afraid. I'm nervous. I'm anxious to get my body back. It's not the same. While I'm often physically exhausted from it, I'm also looking at this as a chance to practice proper health, diet, exercise, nourishment, and most importantly hydration. You don't want kidney stones! Not that I have them (I might) but the thought makes me cringe. My kidneys are probably my greater concern in all of this, as I've had some problems with them in the past. Either way, drink more water and less coffee. Reviewing my diet has really pushed my view into the efforts involved with self care. It's not an easy thing for most people. Including myself. I remember, there were times in my career where I was treating my body similarly to how a college kids ploughs through a semester. Late nights, lunch? dinner? convenient snacks, whatever amount of caffeine to fuel the fire. Awful. I remember I would sometimes go over half of my day without eating or drinking anything at all(!) This is how some business runners actually roll, just to keep up with the demands. It doesn't pay off. Health is hands down what you want to keep track of. Holy crap, it's scary what people do to keep up with work. Nope. Not me.

My balcony became my sanctuary. It's where I go to take mind breaks, breathe, people watch, enjoy some sun, shut out the technological world, and just enjoy the day. I planted some vegetables and herbs, to treat myself like my own special chef on sunny nights for barbecuing and creating hearty dishes to fill the soul. It has helped me get through a lot of the tough stuff, and it gives me so much to look forward to. These are the things that matter to me so much, and I love that I'm able to provide in a way that treats me so kindly. It's like night and day, how I feel about life in general. I realize that what you surround yourself with really is what you become. I feel grounded, healthy, strong, and just really happy with watching things grow. This is when I realized how much I love life itself. I grew it myself, and now I'm gobbling it up. Did I mention peas? *squee*

In all of this, I'm just glad to know that I always see the blue skies behind each grey cloud. Sometimes my optimism really delights me, while other times I feel it can blur my focus from the problem that needs to be faced. Still, despite the struggles I'm currently sifting through, I know I've experienced worse days that these ones. I acknowledge the struggles, and on occasion I appreciate the pain. It makes me remember that great strength comes from these moments, and I'm learning every day to shine on no matter what. In all that I've lost, I know I have gained. Loss is never an easy process, and so, I just allow the grief and acceptance as they come. Some days I'm fine, other days I cry just out of the blue in the process of a thought or a memory. I'm grateful for it all, as weird as that may sound. All of what I was, all I've been, all I've seen and done, has brought me to who I am now. Life is such a marvellous mess of inconsistent weather forecasts. PS. Watching thunderstorms from the balcony is amazing.

Overall, the biggest struggle is sometimes in my energy. From the emotions of releasing what is no longer, keeping up with the world and life itself, to embracing what is here and to come; it can really overwhelm me on the days when I'd like to know the answers. I have no idea where we are going from here, but it's nice to say we'll figure it out from the place we now call home. No more running, at least, not from ourselves. It's so good to be home. Without it, I don't know where I'd be.