What the FAUDA? Get me an Ativan!



After hearing so much about the Netflix series - Fauda - from friends and family I finally decided to check it out - give it a go.

I would not have hesitated but I saw there were subtitles and I wasn't sure if I could read, eat chips and watch a show all at the same time. I knew this was going to be a big responsibility and I had to be ready for it.

Once I started watching - I realized that the subtitles may as well read....

OH SHIT - OH SHIT - SOMETHING IS HAPPENING - SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN - SOMETHING JUST HAPPENED - SOMETHING IS HAPPENING AGAIN - GET ME SOME OXYGEN...

Actually I haven't eaten or slept or talked to myself (probably have but I no longer notice - like when you are in a relationship with someone who is always talking - even during Fauda - and you just learn to tune them out). I'm not sure if it is raining or snowing because the blinds are drawn.

I have a migraine from reading without my glasses and I also have a migraine from reading with my glasses. It's like I have read a novel in a half while on this Fauda binge. I may need a new eye glass prescription before the series is done and that would mean leaving my home and putting Fauda on pause. I don't think you can even pause Fauda - I think it is beyond pausing - it would just keep going.

I haven't even had my Nespresso because I fear that ingesting caffeine while watching Fauda would be the equivalent of doing crack cocaine, speed and heroine all at once (not that I know anything about any of those drugs but I really liked Pulp Fiction).





It's reminiscent of Homeland however I feel the characters in Homeland are more complex or have been explored on a deeper level. Claire Danes is such a great actress and the awareness they bring to Bipolar illness and mental illness in general is significant and commendable.

The women on Fauda are all beautiful and let me tell you fellas -  women can appreciate other women on a whole other level. Women are beautiful - they are awesome and my mother wishes I would dress like one.

There are also some steamy love scenes - somewhat raw and rushed but If I smoked I would have a cigarette after each one (because that is what they do in the movies when two people meet up at a motel for an illicit affair - they share a cigarette after and a shot of whiskey or tequila and the whole ritual is kind of intriguing. I would be more likely to take a shower and eat some cheesecake and go to sleep and i guess that is why no one is having an illicit affair with me - cheesecake anyone?)

Anyway now I have gone completely off topic and I need to get back to eating my chips while both reading and watching my show (and trying to get Dunn's to deliver me strawberry cheesecake by osmosis).

I think I just sat on my glasses or kettle chips - no - wait - it was the kettle chips!!!

Oh FAUDA!

Are you watching Fauda?



CONFESSIONS OF A WOMAN DATING NETFLIX



I did not expect to be single at this stage of life but I have found a way around it and highly recommend it to anyone in my position.

Don’t get me wrong – being alone mid-life is not an easy pill to swallow. Many deep thoughts have traversed through my slightly tangled and wondrous mind: 

Maybe I should have stopped after the fifth tattoo.

Maybe baseball caps should no longer be a permanent fixture in my vast and glorious wardrobe. 


Maybe I should have listened to my mother and married that accountant with the CPA or CGA - wait or was it a CA? Whatever  - he knew how to count.


Maybe I should have ditched my graphic T's and button fly Levis for a dress - although there would be no real point to that (other than giving my mother a sliver of hope) because I would still be wearing my Levis under the dress.



Yep I was digging real deep until one miraculous Saturday - I met Netflix and we started dating.

We didn’t meet on Tinder or Bumble – there were no swipes or hook ups or need for geo tracking. Nope none of that - for just $8 - I found Netflix and Netflix found me.

So far, the relationship is ideal.

I arrive home from work, take out the pooch, wrap my wrap (rice, cheese, guac - maybe I should have learned how to cook) and Netflix is right there waiting for me.

And after a long day of doing everything to avoid talking to people (maybe I should have become more extraverted), I don't have to worry about Netflix asking me about my day or giving me lip because I forgot to make the bed (first of all I did not forget to make the bed - I just did not make the bed - maybe I should start making the bed).

Netflix never plays hard to get or any games for that matter - I can date Netflix and binge for an entire weekend and Netflix will still email me the next day.

Netflix starts every email with “Hi Lisa” – how great is that (actually it would be great if I could get Netflix to call me Babe because no one calls me Babe anymore)? Then Netflix informs me of what we may be doing on our next date simply by suggesting a movie or series I may like and I get to choose.

Warning: Dating Netflix may lead to extreme isolation thus causing your family and friends (if you have any left) to voice  concern as to your whereabouts.

But the real concern should be - why aren't they dating Netflix(and why don't they call me Babe)?

If it was up to my mother – in her words I would be “doing my hair and putting on an outfit” so I could meet someone. Well Mom - Netflix doesn’t care what I look like and no one other than Hilary Clinton wears “outfits” any more (Hilary Clinton has not approved of this message).

      
 And now for a commercial break - Netflix is searching for the woman in this photo. We are dating and sometimes she leaves me to take selfies with dogs (I am not sure what else she does). If you see her - step back slowly and softly announce that David Letterman has signed with me for an original series. I believe this is the only way to get her home. She recently stopped reading my emails because I refused to call her "Babe".


If you are wondering - what is wrong me? How can I admit to this? Where is my pride (or common sense)? Well the thing about being middle aged is you stop giving a Sh** and you realize that the truth is the only way to go (and that truth is that your entire body is heading south).


And to sum it all up (are you still there?) - Here’s a filmstrip for you – it’s black and white – you are on this bus and you’ve been on it for a long time – it pulls up to a diner in the desert – the bus unloads – there’s a bathroom break – a cup of coffee – a piece of pie and a waitress named Mabel – the bus driver announces the departure – everyone marches back onto the bus like ants to an ant farm (I know nothing about ants or ant farms but I am sure they march).

Then this stray dog covered in dust approaches and stands between you and the door to the bus. He has a twinkle in his eye and you feel as though you have known him in another lifetime.

He says “Are you sure you want to get back on that bus?”.

You realize that you don’t because the people on that bus are people you no longer want or need in your life. They have failed you – they have hurt you – and it’s time for a change.

The bus departs and you are left standing in the desert. The dog (who you have already named Jack) nudges you toward some place you have never been. 

And there you go - you've got your dusty, desert dog - you've got your strength and resilience, you're a woman who doesn't wear outfits or give a Sh** and Jack has assured you that wherever you are going - they have Netflix.


HOUSE OF CARDS – OZARK – BREAKING BAD – ANIMAL KINGDOM – HOMELAND – MASTER OF NONE – ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT – SHAMELESS – STRANGER THINGS – COOKED – CHELSEA – FRIENDS FROM COLLEGE – GIRL BOSS - GIVEN...

 What's in your Netflix?

WHAT I AM GOING TO DO WHEN I'M A GOLDEN GIRL


JOIN A SENIORS SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING TROUPE  EVEN THOUGH THERE IS NOTHING ABOUT MY LIFE THAT IS SYNCHRONIZED AND THE BEST CONTRIBUTION I CAN MAKE IS BUBBLES FROM A FART IN THE POOL (DON'T JUDGE - TRUST ME I WILL NOT BE THE ONLY ONE CRANKING ONE OUT).


ASK ONE OF THE HOT ORDERLIES TO CALL ME BABE (AND GIVE ME A SPONGE BATH).

CINNAMON DANISH OR SEX = CINNAMON DANISH (UNLESS THE AFOREMENTIONED ORDERLY DIVES IN DURING THE SPONGE BATH AND DOES SOME "SYCRONIZATION" (ARE YOU DIGGING IT)?


SUPER SIZE MY FRIES (thus my thighs).

TALK TO MYSELF WHEN SOMEONE IS TALKING TO ME (IF ANYONE IS ACTUALLY WILLING TO TALK TO ME). 

BRING ON THE DENTURES - NO SENSE IN HAVING TEETH ANYMORE OR GOING TO THE DENTIST AND I AM GOING TO EAT TONS OF GUMMIES AND CARAMEL POPCORN AND IF ANYTHING GETS STUCK - I AM JUST GOING TO SAVE IT FOR LATER.

WEAR SWEAT PANTS EVERY DAY - WE'RE TALKING GREY DRAWSTRING WORN REAL LOW (NOT THAT LOW) AND AN EXPOS SHIRT THAT MAY WILL THEM BACK AND DON'T EVER FORGET THE BASEBALL CAP.



                            Before I am Golden - I would very much like to reenact that scene from Lost in Translation - the end when Bill Murray tells his driver to stop the car because he sees Scarlett Johansson walking through the market. He runs to her (in my case he would be running to me) and he gives her a great - really great - soft - non invasive - warm kiss. I want that kind of kiss before I turn to gold - Bill Murray wherever you are - I'm already silver - come find me.

SING "THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRIEND" TO ALL OF THE FRIENDS I HAVE HAD SINCE GRADE SCHOOL AND HAVE STUCK AROUND AND WILL BE THERE EVEN WHEN MY TEETH FALL OUT, MY FACE IS COVERED IN CHOCOLATE, I'M TAKING WAY TOO MANY SPONGE BATHS, I AM KICKED OFF THE SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING TROUPE FOR FARTING IN THE POOL,  I AM FAT FROM SUPER SIZING MY FRIES.

ASK FOR A SENIORS DISCOUNT EVERYWHERE. THAT INCLUDES YOU STARBUCKS.

WHEEL MY GROCERIES HOME IN ONE OF THOSE BAGS ON WHEELS - GET OUT OF MY WAY BECAUSE I AM AN AWFUL GROCERY BAG ON WHEELS DRIVER. APPARENTLY I NEVER SIGNAL.

WATCH LOTS OF NETFLIX AND EAT LOTS OF KETTLE CHIPS (ALREADY DOING THIS SO SHOULD BE A PRO BY THE TIME I AM GOLDEN).

WITNESS THE RESHAPING, STRETCHING AND FRECKLING OF THE TATTOOS THAT I GOT WHEN I WAS IN MY 20S; NOT BEING WISE ENOUGH TO THINK ABOUT WHAT THEY WOULD LOOK LIKE WHEN I WAS NO LONGER IN MY 20S 

AND FINALLY (FOR THOSE OF YOU STILL READING THIS) - I WILL SIT BACK, RELAX, REFLECT ON MY LIFE AND ALL OF THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE ENRICHED IT AND THOSE I LOVE AND MISS AND IF THAT IS THE ONLY THING MY MIND CAN REMEMBER BY THE TIME I AM GOLDEN - THAT WOULD BE TRULY GOLDEN.
                                                            
What are you going to do when you are Golden?

        
      

People You Will Meet in Your Life








·         Someone who makes you feel like 2 cents.
·         Someone who makes you feel like a million dollars.
·         A friend who never grew up.
·         A friend who never had the chance to be a kid.
·         Someone more successful than you.
·         Someone in need of a hand up not a hand out.
·         A co-worker who makes your life impossible.
·         A co-worker who enriches your life.
·         A mentor.
·         Someone for you to mentor.
·         A teacher who changes the course of your life.
·         A lover you are addicted to and can never have.
·         Someone who will hurt you because they have been hurt.
·         Someone who teaches you how to love yourself by loving you first.
·         An offensive, unpleasant, aggressive individual who upsets you to your very core.
·         A warm, engaging soul who nurtures you in every way and makes you whole.
·         Friends who are there at the beginning and the end of every beginning

                               And those who love you 
                                 enough to meet you  
                              somewhere in the middle.
                             Wherever that may be...


You will meet so many different people in your life. Some bring positive energy - others not so much. Focus on the people who are by your side when you are down on the floor - broken and spent assuring you that everything will be okay even if they are not sure of that themselves. 


It only takes one great person to remind you why you are here...


Who is your great person?



Why More Women Should Shake Their Booty Like I Shake Mine



Let’s be clear on this – I have no booty. I wear men’s “Low Waist Levi’s” and I don’t have a waist.

My pants therefore fall down. I wear belts but they are of little use – sort of like carrying a goldfish home from the pet store in a plastic bag – that’s not what the bag is for and that’s not where the fish is supposed to live and that has no relevance to anything I am saying.

Here are the Top 9 (couldn’t think of 10) Tips on how you can shake your booty like I shake mine and I strongly advise you do not follow any of these suggestions.

9 – Ditch those big leather purses with the studs and giant zippers and put on a knapsack. It fits conveniently on your back and you can carry it without carrying it. Also you can fit a lot in it because of its depth and you can even have a water bottle handy.

8 – Stop with the make-up, most especially the lip liner and the lip stick. It’s a mess. It ends up all over your coffee cup and other people’s faces when you kiss them. Your kids have to wipe it off like when those old relatives kiss them with all that spit and saliva and bad breath oozing from their orifices. Simply rub some Vaseline Cocoa Radiant Lotion into your pores and your skin will glisten with delight.

7 – The most important items in your wardrobe should not be dresses or skirts or panty hose (those are just awful especially the way the feel at the waist – it’s like those bean bags you wore in bean bag races – you wanted to drop them but you couldn’t until you reached the finish line (and that makes no sense whatsoever in the context of # 7 which we are now on). That’s right the most important items are graphic Ts, Hoodies (Are those great or what and they come with hoods?), Levis red tab button downs (you bet), Blundstones (thank you Australia for these incredibly comfortable and great looking boots and for Keith Urban and The Great Barrier Reef), and a wonderfully fitting cotton exercise bra (keeping things on one level).

6 – What’s with all the brown and black hair – get some pink or orange or something funky going while you still can. There are so many colours out there to try and think of it this way – you’ll be doing your lover a great favour because it will be like sleeping with a different woman every week. I’ve gone all over the rainbow – sporting a little reddish pinkish right now and I look fabulous.

5 – Your perfume is too strong - you are wearing way too much of it. Everyone wants to tell you this especially your co-workers but they don’t know how so I am putting it out there and helping them and helping you and helping anyone breathing in the same air. Once again, just lather up with Vaseline and be on your way.

4 – Stop wearing glasses unless you actually have a prescription to wear glasses and you therefore need to wear glasses. At some point someone decided to sport some really large glasses as a fashion statement and then their friends decided to do the same and now I am so confused because all of these people are walking around wearing glasses and I can’t tell who is supposed to be wearing them and who isn’t and I find that troublesome.

3 – How can you possibly walk around in those heels? Do you realize how bad they are for your back, your ankles, your knees, and your entire lower body? Put on some sneakers or some Aussie boots or even do that flip flop thing in the summer (although I am not thrilled about seeing other peoples toes) but do yourself a favour and throw off those heels. I see you wearing them in the winter in the snow. What on earth are you thinking? Is it really worth cracking your ankle or falling into one of the broken bursting Montreal underground pipes or potholes that we pay to have repaired with our taxes that are higher than any other province and where corruption is the norm in construction. I am completely off course now – do you see what your heels have done to me?

2- Stop wearing jewelry that weighs more than a garbage truck. I have seen you with earrings that are heavier than a set of Janitor keys and necklaces that hang lower than breasts that are not in an exercise bra. Take all of that gear off – you’re not going into battle – you’re just going to work or to drop your kid off at folk dancing. Get yourself a nice delicate chain and go to the nearest Tattoo parlour for a set of permanent titanium studs and while you are at get a few more holes pierced to go with your pink hair.

And the #1 Fabulous Tip That I Offer you free of charge on how you can shake your booty like I shake mine...

Remember when you were 3 yrs. old and your mother dressed you in all these different outfits and you really didn’t care what you were wearing because for the most part you just wanted to tear it off and run around naked? You didn’t care what you looked like because the only reason you ever looked in the mirror was to check what your twin was up to (which was really your reflection unless of course you had a twin). You probably weren’t even sure if you were a boy or a girl or if you liked boys or girls or both (not that there is anything wrong with that)and all you wanted to do was have fun and yell and scream and sing and laugh and dance and meet Kermit the Frog.

Well actually that has nothing to do with #1 – so here is #1:

1 – Go ahead and  LET IT ALL HANG OUT because sooner or later it’s all going to hang and when it does you are going to want to shake your booty like I shake mine.



and always include a dog in your selfies because even if you don't look good - the dog always will!
                           
            
Thank You – KC & The Sunshine Band for the song– the Late Very Kind Larry Wexler for my first pair of Levis – Mark Zuckerberg for always wearing a Hoodie even though you can afford a suit – my mother for accepting me for who I am and sewing me a ballet outfit even though i tripped and fell during recital and lastly to Vaseline (for so many reasons).

What Going Down South Meant When I Was 18 and What it means NOW!

First of all, I am not 18 or even close. I am just shy of 50 "something" but when i was 17 - going down south meant going to Florida for spring break and partying my small, tight ass off and when I was 18 going down south meant.....never mind.

And now? Well now it means my entire body is going down south as in my boobs are hanging, my small ass is no longer tight, my eyes are puffy and I am pretty sure I am slowly shrinking (which is especially scary given I am only 5'1").

I use to look in the mirror all the time when I was younger and the reflection was average to good. Now I look in the mirror and hear my late, great, grandma Mary saying "OYE" (which is Yiddish for "Oye").

Do you want to hear the truth? Sure you do - here it is...

You look in the mirror. If you gained weight - you will look heavier. If you lost weight - you will look thinner. If you rarely sleep, you will have bags under your eyes. If you took too much sun you will have lines and freckles on your face. If you have smoked your whole life, you will have red vessels popping like veins and yellow teeth and bad breath.

If you took care of yourself and worked out and ate right and got your sleep - you may look good although lots of people who do all of the above actually look tired and spent and too thin.

If you have good genes and your 76 yr old mother looks like she is still 66 - well then you have it made.


The thing is - you look the way you look - your body is a result of the way you treat it and beyond that - there is the "gene thing" going and there are the various stress factors that life throws your way.

So how about focusing less on the physical stuff and focusing more on the fact that you have made it to middle age while many of your friends and family have not been so fortunate.


                                
                                         I have lost track of which way is up and which way is down

                                 

What are we middle aged women supposed to do?

Accept and love ourselves for who we truly are and all that we have accomplished - being a great life partner to your soul mate - being a great mom or step mom to your children - being a great dog or cat parent - making a living when it is so hard to do so out there - getting through the most painful experiences and the toughest of times because you persevered - taking care of your aging parents and being by their sides when they left this world - laughing your ass off at yourself - caring for a friend in their time of need without asking for anything in return -holding a door open for someone in back of you - letting someone switch lanes in front of you - 

And if the pants that use to be loose are too tight - get another pair - if the bra that use to hold up your boobs no longer holds up our boobs - get another bra - if you have lines on your face or bags under your eyes - get out the Preparation H and start rubbing - if your hair is turning gray - head to the hair salon and go pink or green - that's right - be a rebel - if you are a nervous wreck obsessing over everything and unable to relax - have a glass of wine or two - read a book in complete silence - take your dog for a walk at sundown and find a place to sit while the world stops spinning; bless the day you just had especially if it ended with everyone you love in one piece.

And when you finally get under the covers at night whether you have a husband or wife or dog or cat next to you in bed or even if you are going through a period where you are alone and scared - remember that you are middle aged - meaning you are in the middle of your life and you got yourself there.


It's the place you stop to hear the spirit of a beloved one  whisper in your ear:

"The middle is in-between the beginning and the end.
And if you  turn off all the  noise in your head and you are conscious of the moments that pass; you will realize the middle is the best place to be."

Now if only I could find my Preparation H.




A Long Way from Me to You




It's a long way from me to you

Use to be so many ways 

From me to you

Now there's just one way

There's just you

There's just me

And that's really no way

From me to you






There's this long country road

I'm driving down with the window open

I smell the air and I feel the wind against my face

There's that crossroad you see in all the movies

And you hear about in all the songs

And as I stop the car, get out and look around

I see the road I can continue heading down

The other roads I can take

To the left

To the right

To somewhere

To nowhere

I wait there in the hot sun with the wires buzzing and moths flying through the air

I look over my shoulder

I listen for any hint of the sound of your voice

A sound I would know anywhere

I stand there alone

I stay until sundown

Every hope, every wish, every dream of you suddenly appearing and telling me you love me and you miss me and you want me back

Shattered

I get back in the car and as I start the engine I look at the road straight ahead

I look at the road to the right

The road to the left

And I have no idea which way to go

I have no idea how to move on without you

So I stay there at that crossroad while the engine hums and the darkness surrounds me

The only light is the dancing of fireflies playing like a slide show across the windshield

And as I put my foot to the pedal

I realize the only way I can go

Is the way I've never been

There's no way from me to you

There's only you

And there's only me

Driving down different roads

Into the darkness

Into the light









When Your Dog Visits You in Your Dreams

Last night my dog Buddy came to me in a dream the way sometimes dearly departed souls visit you when you least expect it and the experience is so visceral, so deep that it both hurts and heals.

I was in the country with a friend checking out a farm for sale. I exited one of the many tattered barns and as I came around the bend Buddy was just standing there.  He appeared as a hologram floating in the mist, in the fog.


It had been 7 years since we last were together. I thought of him every day and while most of the thoughts were happy and provided me with wonderful memories of our life together; there were always those waves that washed over me at night - a tide burying me somewhere in the sand.


But now he stood in front of me and the hologram transitioned into all of Buddy and his beauty - just the way I remembered him -- healthy, handsome and goofy of course.


Buddy was quite a character. He was my birthday present when I turned 30 ( a Flat Coat Retriever we adopted from a shelter) and shortly thereafter I received a diagnosis that rocked my world. I was sick for years and Buddy was right there with me all the way.


He didn't care that I lost all sorts of weight, suffered from terrible migraines that left me half blind and bedridden. He didn't care that my hair was falling out or I was depressed and barely able to find the energy to go for a walk.


He stuck by me and as I grew better he joined me and his dad on camping trips and hiking all sorts of trails on the Eastern coast. We brought him everywhere with us so he had a solid understanding of people and how they interact and the ways of the world. But like most dogs he had his wild and uninhibited side. He chased a family of skunks into their den and well let's just say they all partook in his communal shower. He got us kicked out of a campground because he decided it would be a good idea to visit each and every site/trailer to say hello and see if the hosts might offer him a hot dog or even better a steak. He ran onto a lake that was thinly covered in ice, fell through and started swimming away from the shore (I snaked out on the ice and rescued him but we both came close to dying). 


He opened a knife drawer, took out all the knives - somehow did not cut himself and then he ate an entire Challah (bread), knocked wine on the floor to wash it all down (hiccups included). The one time we left him at daycare with no choice - he  managed to jump a 6 foot wall and ran all the way home (20 minutes away crossing major intersections). He ate everything and anything - there were socks and underwear coming out of him like a washer/dryer. He farted so bad you had to clear the room and not come back for 30 minutes (and he smiled with pride each time).


But mostly he was a wonderful, warm companion and my son.






One night at the age of 13, in the middle of the night after a great day of swimming in the lake and running in the woods - he collapsed from a massive stroke - no warning, no chance to say a real goodbye (whatever that is ) and he was gone. I remember not wanting to leave him and that given he had not deteriorated from Cancer or some other disease, his beautiful face, glistening coat - were still in tact. The light had left his eyes but his soul had departed to a far better place.

I went through the same process as everyone - wondering if he knew how much I loved him and wishing I had said thank you more - thank you for enriching my life the way only a dog can.


In the dream - he came to me and we hugged - I held him as close as I could never wanting to let go but he was being summoned and I could hear the calls like a whisper in the wind.


He told me he was in a safe and happy place with other dogs. They all watched out for one another and they played and shared their peanut butter/cheese/cookie Kongs.


He told me he loved me and missed me as much as I did him and that although it was rare for him to be able to penetrate the wall between our world and his beautiful place of peace; he was able to do so for fractions of a second from time to time.


Then he walked away and vanished into the white, into the blue, into a place I have never been.


Maybe forever but I hope not because forever is far too long.


Dogs are a gift. They are only with us for a short time but in that period they teach us what it really means to love and to be in the moment. They make us better people.


Bless you Buddy.


And to my readers everywhere - Bless the precious souls you have lost. I hope they visit you in your dreams if even for a second.


Who Will Take Care of My Dog If I Die?

It's a sick, haunting thought but we all know someone who has passed suddenly, tragically and unexpectedly. 

And if you are single and you have a dog - at some point you have to ask yourself - - 

"Who will take care of my dog if I die?

Having volunteered at a dog shelter, I often came in touch with dogs who had been left behind after their owners had passed away.

There was no succession plan like people have for their kids. These dogs were instant orphans missing their home and their human mom/dad.

Dogs suffer in silence. The deep sadness and confusion is difficult to alleviate because we can't explain to them what has happened and they can't ask any questions.

I'm alive and I don't leave my dog with anyone. I have had dogs my entire life and they have accompanied me on all my vacations (camping, hiking, no planes - car rides - anything for my pooches).

My whole life has revolved around my dogs and my present dog has only been with me for 7 months. He was given up by a family not once but twice and I promised him I would never give up on him.

But can I really keep that promise? Not if I am in a sudden accident or given a terminal diagnosis.

I worry about him when I bring him to the groomer and they ask me nicely to leave (I have sat outside in my car) so I can't imagine any other scenario.





I do however understand and appreciate the importance of a succession plan. Something would have to be drawn up in the way of a will and I would have to choose the best person to take care of my dog for the rest of his life.

 As a shelter volunteer I did weekend fosters giving dogs a break from shelter life and a chance to unwind in a calm, quiet environment. 

The first dog I fostered was an 11yr old toy poodle named Chai. The morning after her father suddenly died of a massive stroke and fell to the floor in front of her, the man's daughter dropped Chai off at the shelter.

She said her kids were allergic to dogs and she had no one to give Chai to so she was hoping we could find her a home. Poor Chai had been with the same person since she was 4 months old - a life partner - day in - day out.

There were always various dogs to choose from in terms of fostering but my heart sank for Chai - given her age and the story. I held her in my arms as she shook and licked my fingers - her sad eyes glazed over and looking into mine for a twinkle of hope.

She arrived at my house and started looking all over for her father. She cried in a low tone and found a corner of a room where she rolled up into a ball in clear pain.

I brought her into my bed and held her until she stopped shaking. Then she fell asleep next to me and finally stopped crying.

The next day she seemed to be happier and more animated.

But by Sunday night I had to return her to the shelter.

 I kissed her and hugged her and then had to put her back in her cage. She looked at me as if to say "Please don't leave me here" - I felt sick to my stomach. I wrote her evaluation and then her bio for the website and I left.

The next day I was at work and I could not stop thinking about her. Then on a whim, on an instinct and with a pounding heart - I left at lunch and went to see her at the shelter.

I had no idea why I was going or what I could possibly do but I needed to hold her in my arms.

Thankfully a retired couple who had taken in many senior dogs - had adopted Chai a few hours before I arrived. I was so happy for her especially for her father who could not have possibly rested in peace until that very moment he knew she was in good hands.

Chai will never forget her father and probably still waits for him; looks for him around every corner. 

My dog is my boy - my son - my best friend - my co-pilot.

I am making plans for him because I love him more than I love myself and it is my responsibility to ensure he is cared for whether I am here or not.

And because  - if I suddenly vanish I don't want him to vanish too.

What have you planned for your dog?