The Owners
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| Laijka, Kiisu, Cleo, Diva, and Tippy |
We hope you haven't come here if you find people's thoughts about their pets unbearably sentimental. Sentimentality (according to, say John Gardner's The Art of Fiction) is sentiment that is excessive for the cause. There are some people, we know, that view writing about dogs and cats, as sort of cheap sentimentality because it's lavishing attention on what is, after all, only a pet. Well, we think the 'only' is misplaced.
Every species has its own integrity and nobility and, yes, even spirituality -- and if you think that only the most advanced species warrants compassion, then we hope, for your sake, that the Alpha-Centaurians are merciful with you when they finally make contact with us (remarkably inferior humans) in 2019.
Because despite our shortcomings (from the viewpoint of a higher intelligence) there are surely things worth honouring and celebrating in human life.
And by equivalent reasoning, in canine and feline life too.
Futhermore, as we mention later, after taking a couple of excellent courses on Islamic Civilization (see 2nd window) we are impressed with the concept of creatures (as well as scientific discoveries) as representing "signs of the Creator". Nowhere does this seem as apt as when gazing into our Diva's amazing face.
Anyone who is going to focus on pets (these amazing but brief guests in our lives) is also going to have to reflect on their deaths. Their deaths are indeed a great loss -- but the joy they bring far transcends it. And, in any case, thinking about and mourning their deaths is perhaps not a completely inappropriate preparation for contemplating our own.
So there -- you've been warned.
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Laijka (aka 'The Muffin' and 'Mufferelli') is a New Year's Eve dog (born Dec 31/98) and so now (summer 2005) 6-1/2 years old. She's a light grey Miniature Poodle. Initially she was owned and named by Merike's brother. (Laijka is the Russian breed which was the first dog in a Sputnik). She came to us in late 1997 after Merike's brother found he couldn't look after her in a city apartment. Laijka drove out to SwallowHill here in Cobourg (about an hour from Toronto) sitting on Merike's lap in the driver's seat with her paws around Merike's neck. She's been a faithful shadow to Merike ever since. When she arrived here the senior dog already here was Mady (who needed a new friend with the recent death of Bibi) and Laijka right from the beginning followed Mady around faithfully as if Mady were her big woofing sister. Indeed, Mady was very tolerant -- letting Laijka lie on top of her (a little grey accent on top of a big apricot vowel).
Now that Mady is gone, Laijka is a little lost. She doesn't have her big friend to follow outdoors (and tell her where to pee). Now promoted to "senior dog" she's learning that there's a certain loneliness at the top. But one day, we'll perhaps find a small canine friend for her. In the meantime all the cats keep her quite busy. She'd been well trained by Kiisu that cats are friends. Nonetheless, they have to be playfully chased now and then.
Kiisu (aka Kiisu Miisu -- Kiisu simply means "kitten" in Estonian) is the senior cat at SwallowHill. Born probably about mid-June 1998 she is now (summer 2005) 7 years old. Indeed she is probably a year younger than Cleo. Nonetheless, she is the senior cat because she arrived here first and she trained both us and the dogs about how to live with cats and how wonderful they are. In the case of the dogs the education took about 3 months. In the beginning, the dogs considered her prey to be chased up trees or under chesterfields -- but eventually they learned and we learned too. I (Rod) always thought that cats were elegant, aloof strangers who would suavely stab you in the back while wearing elbow-length velvet gloves. Wrong wrong wrong! They are sweethearts. But what did I know? I had to be taught. You have to honour your teacher -- and I do.
While we have generally purchased our dogs from breeders, our cats are all strays who have just happened to us. In the case of Kiisu, the dogs had chased this miniscule kitten (a pound or less and just skin and bones -- like a hand puppet) up a tree. Hearing the barking, Merike lifted Kiisu down and Kiisu, obviously terrified, turned around and bit Merike on the wrist, leapt to the ground and scampered off. Well we had to catch her again. She probably didn't have rabies, but if you guess wrong and she does, then you're dead. So we caught her again (wearing heavy protective gloves) and kept her in a cage for 10 days and then had her tested by the vet. Everytime we put food into the cage she would purr. By the end of the 10 days, we realized that she'd become part of the family and we couldn't let her go. (It took a little longer for the dogs to recognize the same thing).
By the time we encountered Cleo and her nursing kittens, the dogs (at that time Mady and Bibi -- but soon thereafter Mady and Laijka) had already been well trained by Kiisu and knew immediately how to welcome more cats into the family.
In later years, Kiisu has grown just a little more roly-poly than when she was a young kitten -- but thinking of her emaciated frame when she first encountered us, we can hardly blame her for adopting an "I'm-never-going-to-be-hungry-again" attitude.
Here's another Kissu pose. Apparently 'tortoise-shell' cats are always female.
And here's yet another pose. Her fierce face belies a very soft and affectionate interior. But the head at times can look exactly like a great horned owl.
Just look at that intense face and those ears!
Cleo (aka Cleo Mio or Cleo Meow) was probably born about mid 1997. We discovered her one evening in the fall of 1997. We were driving home and there suddenly in the ditch a few hundred yards before our driveway were six pairs of eyes glowing in the headlights. It was a nursing mother (Cleo) and five nursing kittens. We don't think they'd been born in the wild because Cleo was wearing a flea collar (though no identification). What seems most likely is that they were dumped by some owner who did not want to deal with the new family. How can people do this? But that's life in the country!
Anyway, we took Cleo and her five kittens in. Gave away two black kittens to friends in Toronto and kept the three grey kittens ourselves. Unfortunately, these "Three Heroes" (Solo, Scorpio, and Bravo) are no longer with us. Solo died of an inoperable brain tumour in Aug/00 (1 year old). Scorpio wandered off (and we're afraid was eaten by coyotes) in Jun/03 (not quite 4 years old). Bravo went missing the most recently (in July/05 -- not quite 6 years old) and again we're afraid was eaten by coyotes. Cleo remains with us -- frequently crawling over our pillow in the small hours of the night to be given a few pats.
Cleo has a strange way of carrying her tail up over her body (pointing to her head like a scorpion) -- a trait which had been inherited by only one of her sons (Scorpio). She is a sweet cat and an important member of the SwallowHill owners.
Here is a picture of her in another favourite position.
Diva was born about mid-September 2004, making her about 11 mnths old now (late summer 2005). Diva was one of the three kittens (the "three black bullets") we adopted from the nearby "The Shelter of Hope" (who look after stray animals until their adoption). The story of why we adopted these three is told in the section on our sadly departed Pedigree. We adopted the three kittens in November/04 and shortly afterwards they sent this note of gratitude to The Shelter of Hope.
It's not immediately obvious in this photo (lacking context markers to give you an idea of size) that here at the right she is a tiny kitten only a couple of months old and just a fraction of her present size now (summer 2005) as shown above left.
Here's another picture of Diva today, standing on our back step. She's very athletic -- leaps several times her height to successfully retrieve plastic stars stuck on a glass door. Most of all she has a bright quizzical face that looks at you with such intensity (see first picture on the left above) that you know she has some element of the divine (as her name implies). Indeed, after taking a couple of excellent courses on Islamic Civilization (see 2nd window) we are impressed with the concept of creatures (as well as scientific discoveries) as representing "signs of the Creator". Nowhere does this seem as apt as when gazing into Diva's amazing face.
Finally, here's a picture of Diva (at the top) watching her friend Tippy climb up the steps toward her.
Tippy was born about mid-September 2004, making her about 11 months old now (late summer 2005). Tippy was another of the three kittens (the "three black bullets") we adopted from the nearby "Shelter of Hope" (who look after stray animals until their adoption). The story of why we adopted these three is told in the section on our sadly departed Pedigree. We adopted the three kittens in November/04 and shortly afterwards they sent this note of gratitude to The Shelter of Hope. We are happy that Tippy, as a friend, was held in the same cage with the two sisters (Diva and Pedigree). Otherwise, we would never have had the occasion to meet and get to know this lovely creature.
As can be seen in the picture above, she has a white tip on the end of her tail (hence the name Tippy -- although she also answers to Tippy Canoe, Tippy Tail, and Tipperary). She was a very close friend of Mady, while Mady was still with us -- often going to sleep cuddled up beside Mady and sometimes licking her large ears. She has a characteriztic and unique meow (not in complaint but in greeting).
It's not immediately obvious in this photo (lacking context markers to give you an idea of size) that here she is a tiny kitten only a couple of months old and just a fraction of her present size (in the picture above left) now (summer 2005).
Here's another Tippy pose.
And finally here's a picture of Tippy climbing up the stairs toward her friend Diva.
Spirou (named from a Québecois comic strip character) is owned by our neighbour, friend, and tenant Pierre Moreault. Like all cats around here, he just happened to us. One day, Spirou (aka Big Boy) made his way through our cat door and sat on top of our grand piano until Merike realized that the orange colour was not just caused by sunlight on one of our own cats. Spirou was badly mauled and had to be stitched up at the vet. But he's in good health now and often drops by our house for extra snacks and to see the other cats.
Mady (full name Madeleine, aka 'The Mooster') was acquired by us in Sep 1990 (a beautiful Apricot-coloured Standard Poodle) to be a friend for Zephy (our Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier).
Later inheriting the title of senior dog, Mady spent the first night after Zeph's death searching the house and garden for her missing companion. The next morning she watched, a little perplexed, as we buried her friend. Well really, in fact, she understood -- could smell the faint decay we missed. It's we who are perplexed.
She was a fast runner but very gentle and a great lover of stuffed chairs, sofas, and beds. Also an infinitely patient, if unsuccessful, stalker of squirrels.
She'd been born in April 1990, making her 15 years 3 months (3 months beyond her normal life expectancy) when she died peacefully here in July 2005. She is buried in our garden beside her first friend Zephy.
One can learn much from dogs. We do believe their a somewhat nobler species than homo sapiens. Here's one of us (Rod) trying to learn from Mady in "The Naturalist" and being helped by Mady in "Poem by Madeleine". And here's the other of us (Merike) puzzling out some of the same issues in "Garden Party with Madeleine".
When Mady arrived in Sep 1990 (6 months old) she was the 'junior dog' and slightly younger companion to the then 16-month-old Zeph. The two were inseparable.
Here's a picture of Mady (on the right) and Zephy together. Mady loved to chase Zephy trying to nip her very short tail. For a little poem featuring Mady and Zeph together, see "Mady Surfs the Net".
After Zephy died (of some spinal disease) in Sep 1997 we acquired Bibi (a black Standard Poodle) to be her new friend. Here's a picture of Mady and Bibi together -- with Bibi still a young puppy not yet grown to her adult size. Unfortunately, Bibi (unlike all our other poodles) surprised us by wandering a half kilometer away to Danforth Ave. where she was hit and killed by a passing truck.
This left Mady yet again in need of a new friend, which need was answered with the arrival of Laijka in late 1997. Somehow we don't readily have at hand a picture of the two of them together -- but, as stated above, Mady was exceedingly tolerant of her rambunctious little friend -- letting Laijka lie on top of her (a little grey accent on top of a big apricot vowel).
Back to TopSolo was born about Aug 1/99 and was just a month or so old when we first discovered him and his mother, Cleo, and his brothers (Scorpio and Bravo). He tended to walk alone (hence his name Solo). But when he was one year old (on Aug 7, 2000) he died of an inoperable brain tumour. We had taken him to the Vetinary College in Guelph but there was nothing that could be done for him. Unfortunately, we don't seem to have a picture of him readily at hand -- but he was a good friend.
Scorpio was also born about Aug 1/99 (all the 'Three Heroes' being from the same litter) and so was just a month or so old when we first discovered him and his mother, Cleo, and his brothers (Solo and Bravo). He was the one son who inherited the trait of his mother, Cleo, of carrying his tail forwards above his body like a scorpion (hence his name). He was a good knitting buddy of Merike's but he also liked to wander a bit. And one day, unfortunately, at 3 years & 10 months, he wandered off and never returned (we're afraid probably eaten by coyotes). Again, we don't seem to have a picture of him readily at hand -- but he was a good friend and we miss him.
Bravo was also born about Aug 1/99 (all the 'Three Heroes' being from the same litter) and so was just a month or so old when we first discovered him and his mother, Cleo, and his brothers (Solo and Scorpio). One of his early acts was making music by walking up and down the piano keyboard -- hence his name Bravo, though in later years he came to be known as Mr. B. Of all the 'Three Heroes' he was with us the longest. He was a very affectionate cat -- and loved to bump heads. But this head bumper was also a little neurotic. Sometimes he'd stay overnight in the loft above our studio (unless we found him and brought him back home). Sometimes he would disappear for several days at once -- and then reappear late at night for some food. Unfortunately, the last time he wandered off (about July 1, 2005) he never returned and we presume, sadly, that he was eaten by the local coyotes. He was 5 years 11 months. Again, we don't seem to have a picture of him readily at hand -- but he was a sweet head-bumper and we miss him terribly.
Pedigree was born about Sep 15, 2004 and so was just 10 weeks old when she came to live with us in late November, 2004. This is a picture taken of her at that time. We used to then sometimes call her "Scruffy".
The story of her arrival goes like this. Another gray (but wild) kitten was hanging around our house during September 2004. We put food out for her (which she ate) but she would run whenever she saw a human. We were hoping to tame her before the onset of winter. We called her (initially thinking her a him) Petit Gris (or Pedigree for short). But one day we found her dead near our house (no external markings but evidently some internal disease). We buried her sadly but then decided we'd better go to our nearby Shelter of Hope and adopt a kitten in her honour. The one that looked most similar (same scruffy gray face) we chose -- and named her Pedigree as well. But this new Pedigree had a sister, Diva. And the two sisters had a friend Tippy living in the same cage with them. It didn't seem right to break the threesome up so we came home with all three of them. It was a good choice, for the three played together constantly -- tearing around the house like three little "black bullets". We adopted the three kittens in November 2004 and shortly afterwards they sent this note of gratitude to the Shelter of Hope for looking after them until adoption.
As Pedigree grew older we realized that she was going to be a long-haired cat, unlike her short-haired sister Diva. The long hair about the face and especially the long hair around her spectacular tail gave her a very regal appearance, and we came to call her Princess. Indeed, it seemed hard to imagine we had once called her Scruffy as a kitten. One of the problems with the long-haired tail, however, was that it gathered up every burr on the property and soon became matted with whole forest of burrs. We took her on August 5, 2005 to the young woman who had been grooming our dogs and she cleaned up Princess's tail (actually in the end having to basically shave it). We came home happily with that problem behind us. But after playing around the house during the afternoon she wandered out in the early evening and when we went for our customary rounding up of all the cats at nightfall she was nowhere to be found. Nor did she return that night nor the next morning. After a week had gone by we had to conclude, sorrowfully, that she too had probably been eaten by the local coyotes.
Princess Pedigree was about 11 months old -- and her whole life ahead of her when she died. She used to visit us on the bed several times each night for head stroking. It seems so unjust that her life should have been snuffed out so early. In her memory, we think we will have to build some sort of unclimbable fence around a portion of our property so that our pets can be protected from the increasingly active coyotes. It used to be that we would hear the coyotes howling at night a mile away down the hill south of our property. But in recent months they have been seen crossing between our garden toolshed and our house. We did not, clearly, provide sufficient protection for our Princess and we hope, wherever she is now, she will forgive us for our human imperfections.
Bibi (aka the Bibster) was born Aug 5, 1996, a beautiful black standard poodle, whom we got from the same breeder who had supplied us with our wonderful Mady. We got her in late fall 1997 to provide another friend for Mady after Zephy had died of some incurable spinal disease. In the picture above she was still a little puppy -- so black it was hard to see any detail -- except when she had snow on her muzzle or, occasionally, up close when you could catch the white of an eye. Full of energy, she accepted each day as a given. The first day it snowed she (having never seen snow in her life) ran out and started to play in it as if it were only to be expected. Humans would rub their eyes and ask what was going on. If the world were suddenly one morning to have been covered in trampolines, Bibi would not have stopped to question; she'd have run right out and started jumping on them all.
Here is another picture of her at about the same age. Eventually she grew up to be the same size as Mady, but glistening black. Unfortunately, she did not tend to stick around the property as all our other poodles (Tassel, Mady, and Laijka) have done. This caught us by surprise. At only 2-1/2 years old she wandered down our solitary country road half a kilometer to Danforth Ave. (which has traffic) and was unfortunately struck and killed by a passing truck. Here one of us (Rod) tried to cope with the meaning of her loss -- "To Bibi with Bouncing".
Zephy (full name Zephyr, aka the Zeph or Zepherelli) came to us in June 1989 shortly after our first dog, Tassel, died. She was a Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier -- very stubborn (like all terriers) and very protective of her status, which was second only the Merike (the 'alpha dog'). We soon discovered that she would wander off if not tied up -- but why have 12 acres of country property and have to tie up a dog? But after we rescued her from a circle of our neighbour's cows down the hill, we decided something had to be done. The answer was the "invisible fence" system (a signal-emitting buried wire running around our property and a small receiver worn on Zeph's collar). One time (through our carelessness) she got out the door without her collar and was later found five miles across the fields to the east of us (we were phoned in the morning when her vet tag could be checked out). After that we were much more careful about always putting her special collar on when she went out.
After a year, we decided that Zephy needed a companion, and we got Mady -- and the two of them were inseparable for the next seven years. At the right is a picture of the two of them together. In September 1997 Zephy died suddenly of some form of spinal disease (at the young age of 8 years 4 months). In he last 3 mnths of her life, some 70 people saw her image on the Web (including visitors from Australia, Brazil, Canada, France, Singapore, the United Kingdom, and the United States). This is not a huge number in e-commerce terms, but more than enough to please a little dog who loved all people, whether friends, neighbours, or strangers.
Zephy features as an important character in the poem "Mady Surfs the Net". And, in addition, she stars more centrally in the poem "Zeph Gets her Way" and in the poem written just after her death: "Zephy the Great".
Tassel was a miniature poodle, a city dog of many years, who made the transition with us to the country in 1988 (now -- in summer 2005 -- some seventeen years ago). She lived for another year here on our drumlin overlooking Lake Ontario. She died on the living room floor with both of us patting her -- and is buried under a birch tree in our garden. A death one would choose for oneself -- but of course we don't have a choice.
Most of our poems about Tassel date back to when we were living on Madison Avenue, in the Annex in Toronto. In approximate chronological order they are:
Only one poem was written out here in SwallowHill and it focuses, in a way, on her anticipated death -- which could be foreseen from her occasional shivering (and from the vet telling us she was likely going to have an unavoidable stroke -- which she ultimately did). The poem is Dog's Sleep.