Post by BrianWilliams on Mar 4, 2007 4:47:34 GMT -8
Tired, damp and happy from skiing at Hollyburn, I settled in for a long think in my "den" - the can.
Our younger dog Bo hurled himself at the door a few times, then settled into a low whine, punctuated by a few scratches and a warbling howl. What?
Jeannie and I have taken Bo and Virginia on long, wet rambles up the Seymour Valley, walks in Southlands -with eagles- and Fraser River swims at Sapperton. That's in addition to their thrice-daily walks 'round the neighbourhood.
I ignored Bo's tantrum while I read my book - then I looked at my bookmark. A BCF ticket, one of many, from Horseshoe Bay to Nanaimo.
Clever dog. I miss our long footsore rambles on Nanaimo's waterfront, too. OK, Beauregard - let the days grow a bit longer, and the rain become a little warmer. We'll ride the big white boats again.
Funny, I have complained about the miserable BCF pens for dogs and companions - but Bo never minded. He'd hang out the port for a while, then curl up and sleep on the cold steel deck.
[img src="http://www3.telus.net/cmstp/canis/ktsfydogpen.jpg["]
Often on early morning rides, I'd race topside for a takeaway breakfast. When I asked for a paper plate, explaining "I've got a dog below and have to get back" the BCF server would toss on some extra bacon for him. Nice people.
Long as the crossing seemed to me, Bo never complained. He'd bounce off at Departure Bay ready for adventure ... and endured the few blocks of Stewart Avenue on-leash until we passed Moby Dick and reached the esplanade.
Happy mutt. On the seawalk, off leash, he trots with me until he sees a dock. Zip! He's gone. Down to the boats and prospecting for a pal -- sometimes he meets a new human friend; sometimes a resident boat dog chases his black a*ss back to me.
He's been to Newcastle Island five times, and when we cross Millstone Creek he breaks into a run for the Newcastle ferry. I often stop for a hot dog in Maffeo-Sutton Park on the way.
And there's Bo on the dock 'way ahead of me. Grinning like a fool, soliciting pets from tourists and livin' large. Newcastle is just about his favourite place, and mine too.
Miles of forest trails; beaches of rock, gravel and sand - and ferries to watch:
Tireless dog. One time we marched to the Gabriola ferry, rode Quinsam to Descanso Bay and hiked the long shore north. I had to skirt a deep cove on the way ... Bo dove in, swam over and back, shook off and stared at me. I knew what he was thinking: "Dumb human, take the short cut."
My pack, boots and gear were too much, so I marched around. Loyal Bo swam over and back one more time, then plodded with me around the head of the bay. He posed beautifully in a hoodoo on the far side:
-- and we ended the long day with a fat greasy snack from Dave's Dogs while waiting for Quinsam.
Bo nodded on board:
Not quite ended yet. We still had to hike back to Departure Bay. Bo was flagging, but he met a few humans on the way and bounced happily. At Departure Bay, I was completely worn out and he was toast, almost.
A young mother and her toddler approached Bo. *Blink* He was in full show-off mode. Big smile, standing tall, accepting ear-grabs and fur-pulls. The visitors left - and Bo collapsed like a sack of onions.
A bullet couldn't have made a deader dog. He woke just long enough to march on the Cow, then collapsed in the dog pen. 2 hours later, he walked to the car in Horseshoe Bay, fell asleep, awoke just enough to get into the house, then slept like a rock all thru Sunday.
Our younger dog Bo hurled himself at the door a few times, then settled into a low whine, punctuated by a few scratches and a warbling howl. What?
Jeannie and I have taken Bo and Virginia on long, wet rambles up the Seymour Valley, walks in Southlands -with eagles- and Fraser River swims at Sapperton. That's in addition to their thrice-daily walks 'round the neighbourhood.
I ignored Bo's tantrum while I read my book - then I looked at my bookmark. A BCF ticket, one of many, from Horseshoe Bay to Nanaimo.
Clever dog. I miss our long footsore rambles on Nanaimo's waterfront, too. OK, Beauregard - let the days grow a bit longer, and the rain become a little warmer. We'll ride the big white boats again.
Funny, I have complained about the miserable BCF pens for dogs and companions - but Bo never minded. He'd hang out the port for a while, then curl up and sleep on the cold steel deck.
[img src="http://www3.telus.net/cmstp/canis/ktsfydogpen.jpg["]
Often on early morning rides, I'd race topside for a takeaway breakfast. When I asked for a paper plate, explaining "I've got a dog below and have to get back" the BCF server would toss on some extra bacon for him. Nice people.
Long as the crossing seemed to me, Bo never complained. He'd bounce off at Departure Bay ready for adventure ... and endured the few blocks of Stewart Avenue on-leash until we passed Moby Dick and reached the esplanade.
Happy mutt. On the seawalk, off leash, he trots with me until he sees a dock. Zip! He's gone. Down to the boats and prospecting for a pal -- sometimes he meets a new human friend; sometimes a resident boat dog chases his black a*ss back to me.
He's been to Newcastle Island five times, and when we cross Millstone Creek he breaks into a run for the Newcastle ferry. I often stop for a hot dog in Maffeo-Sutton Park on the way.
And there's Bo on the dock 'way ahead of me. Grinning like a fool, soliciting pets from tourists and livin' large. Newcastle is just about his favourite place, and mine too.
Miles of forest trails; beaches of rock, gravel and sand - and ferries to watch:
Tireless dog. One time we marched to the Gabriola ferry, rode Quinsam to Descanso Bay and hiked the long shore north. I had to skirt a deep cove on the way ... Bo dove in, swam over and back, shook off and stared at me. I knew what he was thinking: "Dumb human, take the short cut."
My pack, boots and gear were too much, so I marched around. Loyal Bo swam over and back one more time, then plodded with me around the head of the bay. He posed beautifully in a hoodoo on the far side:
-- and we ended the long day with a fat greasy snack from Dave's Dogs while waiting for Quinsam.
Bo nodded on board:
Not quite ended yet. We still had to hike back to Departure Bay. Bo was flagging, but he met a few humans on the way and bounced happily. At Departure Bay, I was completely worn out and he was toast, almost.
A young mother and her toddler approached Bo. *Blink* He was in full show-off mode. Big smile, standing tall, accepting ear-grabs and fur-pulls. The visitors left - and Bo collapsed like a sack of onions.
A bullet couldn't have made a deader dog. He woke just long enough to march on the Cow, then collapsed in the dog pen. 2 hours later, he walked to the car in Horseshoe Bay, fell asleep, awoke just enough to get into the house, then slept like a rock all thru Sunday.
