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In memory of our sweet Blue Ch. Norwick Blue Magic (English Greyhound)
April 21, 1995 - October 23, 2007.

"Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives."

John Galsworthy, "Memories"

Blue entered this life in Calgary Alberta Canada with her six siblings of her mother Holly. From the very first day she was special. She had beautiful colour and markings and a comedic talent not shared by any of the others in the litter. Her ability to make people laugh stayed with her throughout her life. It was not just a puppy trait that went away when adulthood was reached.

As was my custom with respect to breeding, I kept one pup from the litter. It was an easy choice really. Blue was the pup everyone wanted. It got to the point that when prospective buyers came to see the litter, Blue had to be hidden from view. It was not that she was the most beautiful or the most playful, all the pups were beautiful and playful. She had a charismatic sweetness, expression and manner that was irresistible to people.

While growing up she made handling classes, dog shows, and off-leashed long walks or hikes, a pure joy. She was attentive, obedient, smart, friendly and a perfectly behaved companion. All of this came to her naturally and effortlessly. There were no lengthy, strenuous training sessions. Blue just knew.

As a Greyhound she had it all; speed, focus, good looks and strong instincts. She had impeccable behaviour. She never did anything wrong in the house, she always came when called, stayed close when walking off-leash, and didn't treat fluffy little fou-fou dogs like stuffed toys. She stood her ground against menacing strangers, tidied the hair of ear and tail pulling toddlers, comforted you in bed when you had the flu and licked away your tears when you had a sad moment.

Together we attended dog shows, oval racing, lure coursing and had fun with all of it.

People who don't know better complain that dogs are great in every aspect except that they can't talk. Not a problem with Blue. She was always able to communicate extensively using her body language, doggy voices, teeth clicking and her beautifully expressive eyes. She was at her best when demanding treats and walks but was easily understood when asking to be tucked into her bed at night, go outside to do her business, reminding us of mealtime and notifying us of visitors before they ever got close to the door.

At middle age she was bred and delivered a litter of six beautiful black puppies. While none of them looked like her, the pups all displayed behavioural characteristics that easily identified them as "Blues Babies". They were so great that we had to break tradition and keep two of them, Ch. Norwick Black Ghost F.Ch (Ghosty) and Ch. Norwick Blackhawk (Scunker). Blue loved her offspring and had them as company for the last five years of her life.

The twelve and a half years Blue was with us was a joyful and wonderful time. Much has been written about the loyalty and uncompromising love dogs bestow on there owners. We are convinced that it was all written for the benefit of Blue.

Her sudden passing has left a huge vacuum in our home and in our hearts. For the rest of our lives when we go on walks with her offspring, or to lure coursing, or to a dog show she will be with us in our hearts. Mental visions of Blue, nose to the ground, eagerly searching for dog treasures in our forest will never grow dim.

Rest in peace our loyal friend. We miss you very much. You were the perfect Greyhound and our Princess. Your offspring Ghosty and Scunker knew you were getting weaker and treated you with great gentleness. They loved being close to you and snuggling up to you.

things about me #5: Dyllan

When i was in my mid 20's, my mom was a foster parent. She had decided that she would be a foster parent in order to give back and she was quickly asked to take in a 1 year old. She was told he would soon be reunited with mom and would probably only be with her for 3 to 6 months.

Well, 6 years later . . . :)

Dyllan will always be "my first baby." i dressed him, put him down for naps, took him to the doctor a couple of times. i bought him clothes and toys and lots and lots of books. Mom and i acted as a parenting team when it came to many outings, family events and holidays. i took him to this street fair where we did this finger painting and figured out how to make finger painting work for a developmentally delayed, ADHD 2 year old with such low muscle tone that he could barely stand or walk. (psssst, for all those mommies out there, here is the secret: rather than taking a crawling toddler out of the stroller and putting him on the tarp with other painting children, i used three smock shirts to smock him and the stroller and kept him in it. Obviously, i used my hand to guide his for the name writing) i took him for his first beach trip and took this pic after. i took him swimming. And above all, if i was around, he would not allow anyone else to bathe him because i apparently give the most entertaining toddler baths!

Dyllan had issues inherited from his horrendous first year of life but was a smart, sensitive, caring, sweet little boy. He had a way of working his way into the hearts and affections of even the most stoic I-don't-really-like-kids types (like my brother, smile). After joking for years that i never wanted to do the horrible things to myself that pregnancy does and that i would adopt, i arrived at a place where it stopped being a joke.

i know with deep certainty that i am the kind of person who can deeply bond with a child that isn't biologically connected to me. And so, the sting of finding out that my bod isn't well designed for pregnancy never hit full force when that news came years later.

My most passionate hope for my future is to adopt my own Dyllan.