Who Canadiangrrl

[canadiangrrl]

Me - well, how much time do you have...

I''m the daughter of British immigrants who came to Canada in the sixties. I was born in Toronto, and, along with my five siblings, was raised by left-wing, politically active parents in a house where raging dinner table debates were de rigueur.

My parents placed a heavy emphasis on academics and I was enrolled in a French Immersion program in Kindergarten. They felt that bilingualism (Canada has two official languages) was important. I spent my pre-university school years taking all of my subjects in French, so I should, in theory, be bilingual...but I don''t use it much anymore, and language is one of those things that will fade on you if you don''t speak or read it frequently. I am also conversant in Spanish, and one of my goals is to become fluent in both Spanish and Italian.

I was raised to believe that killing animals for human consumption is wrong, so I''m a lifelong vegetarian. And there are days when I love and respect animals more than humans, so I can''t imagine eating them.

I began running competitively at the age of eleven. Running was something that I found quieted the mounting crap in my head, and I discovered that I was good at it, to boot. I haven''t run a race in a couple of years because my left knee cannot take any more surgery, but I am hoping that with time I can heal sufficiently to at least run a 10k every now and then.

I am marrying a man who is a three time cross-country All-American and who once ran a 2:22 marathon. Although he''s ten years my senior he can kick my butt from now until next Tuesday, so I better get it back in gear.

I was diagnosed with clinical depression at the age of sixteen. It is something that I feel compelled to be honest about, because it''s a disease that is often hidden under layers of shame (although the stigma is slowly fading.) Medication, coupled with running, worked wonders. I am at the point now where I have been free of meds for two years, but I wouldn''t hesitate to take them again if I felt myself slipping back into the hole. For anyone out there who is suffering - pharmaceuticals aren''t a cop-out - they really do work.

I was married briefly at the age of twenty-one. It didn''t work out, and I spent the next seven years pursuing a career with a vengeance. I silently vowed that I would never marry again. I laughed inwardly at women who talked about wanting children and their biological clocks. And then, God laughed at me.

I was at a midnight Mass on Christmas Eve of 2001. As I looked around me, I saw families, and the Dads all looked overwhelmed and the Mums looked just plain exhausted. And it hit me hard - that''s what I want. I actually looked skyward and said, "Oh."

On my birthday in July of 2002, after much prodding by my sister, I joined an internet dating service. One the very first day that I joined, a fellow newbie emailed me. Turns out I''m marrying him next Septmeber.

As I read his first email, I can clearly recall thinking "Wow, even if I don''t end up dating him, I''d love to be his friend."

Well, he turned out to be my best friend.

I feel so incredibly blessed.

I love books and music of all kinds, and I love to write. I''ve been working on a novel in my spare time for the past four months. And looking over this post, there''s far too many "I''s" in it, so I will shut off my inner narcissist now.

 

[Richard Sherwood]

What a moving post.

Very, very real. A rare thing nowadays.

 

[Colored Gemstone Nut]

CanadianGirl...




Wow..Congratulations....




Thanks for sharing such an open and intimate story.Your fiance is very lucky to have someone so grounded and in touch with sharing real human experiences...I think we have all at some point or another been where you were at.


Thats the great thing about your writing, you are very easy to relate to by bringing the reader inside your story by adding such personal experiences..The beginning of your story reminded me of myself and the way God's hand can touch all of us when we think we have thrown in the towel...




Again Congrats..

 

[AGBF]

canadiangrrl, you write so well! It really makes me feel I know the essential things about you rather than the statistics . I identify with everything in your life story except the running . I, also, profoundly love animals. In fact, I could never be a veterinarian because I couldn't bear to see them sick. The way I see it is: a husband is all well and good, but he can never replace a dog.


Deb

 

[Hest88]

Ah, what a fascinating history.

 

[canadiangrrl]

Thanks for your kinds words, everyone.

I wish I could post a pic of Mr. Canadiangrrl & I, but I don't have a scanner and the pics I do have of us on my hard drive are of us in our grungy, sweaty running clothes. Not attractive. Well, he is, I look like hell.

So you'll have to settle for a description of us - I'm fairly tall (5', thin build, fair-complected, with fairly long, straight, light strawberry blonde hair. I have a good deal of freckles on my face.

Mr. Canadiangrrl is 6'2 1/2, wiry runner's build, fair-complected, with short, light red hair. So if I give birth to a short chubby little one with brown eyes and hair, I'm up sh-t's creek.

Deb, for the longest time, I really wanted to be a vet. My goal was to do work that was either oriented towards therapy or research (couldn't decide) involving autistic children and animals. I am fascinated by autism, and I thought this would be a good way of combining my love of animals & my desire to use my skils to be some kind of benefit to the world around me.

But...I think it was Nietzsche who wrote that, "Man plans, God laughs."

Math was my enemy. I couldn't even get through an intro stats course without a lot of hand-holding. This frustrated my parents to no end. They are both math-oriented - some retired guys golf - my Dad tries to figure out difficult math & physics problems. Two of my sibs are Phd's, and my youngest brother, age 16, who's the smartest of them all, is already auditing third-year physics courses and is currently locked away in his room doing what I understand is advanced work on something related to small particulate matter. All of this conspires to make me the "weird one" in my family.

And it meant that I'd never get into veterinary school.

The truly funny thing is that I sailed through business math and can do a cost benefit analysis in my sleep.

I spend a fair amount of my work days determining, crunching & refining budget numbers, and it doesn't bother me a whit.

I guess it's because it seems to have more of an "applied" type of knowledge??

 

[Richard Sherwood]

-----------
and the pics I do have of us on my hard drive are of us in our grungy, sweaty running clothes.
-----------

I want to see the pics of you guys in grungy, sweaty running clothes.

This is, after all, reality internet.

 

[canadiangrrl]

Hahaha, no freakin' way!

My better half always looks great after a long run - manly and invigorated. I, on the other hand, look like something the cat considered dragging in, but ultimately thought the better of.

 

[Mara]

What a great story CG!! One of my friends met her now-hubby on an internet dating service...they just got married last year after 3years of being together. So cool

Nice that you write...I did a short stint with writing when in my younger teenage years...I loved it. I have all my old stories and stuff...but alas alot of them are on big ole 5.25" floppies on Wordstar..and I haven't figured out how to convert them..if I can at all. I have to read my stories sometimes and just LAUGH my butt off. How idealistic I was!! I was hugely into romance. Too many soap operas I guess. Considering that I'm hardly a romantic now..wonder what happened?!




Interesting stuff about your brain....we can be our own worst enemy at times, and nothing is scarier than your own mind turning on you and trying to destroy you. Having the courage to stomp it back down and keep it firmly in place is excellent...I'm so happy to hear you are there.

Having the right people in your life to support you is superb as well.

 

[fire&ice]

I have found in my travels w/ the Therapy Dog work - the more life experiences one has the better they are at the work - the dog & the driver of dog. I think you will be good at it. I even had one shut-in that was as enamoured w/ diamonds as me.

I hope you get time to read those two books I recommended by the Monks of New Skeet. It's a fascinating read - some outside of the box things that make the most of sense from a dog's point of view.

 

[AGBF]

----------------
On 11/7/2003 10:03:59 PM canadiangrrl wrote:

Thanks for your kinds words, everyone.

...
for the longest time, I really wanted to be a vet. My goal was to do work that was either oriented towards therapy or research (couldn't decide) involving autistic children and animals. I am fascinated by autism, and I thought this would be a good way of combining my love of animals & my desire to use my skils to be some kind of benefit to the world around me.
...

I have been a professional social worker for 20 years, but I decided to try to get a job as a school social worker. That entailed taking a class in special education, which I am doing now. A couple of weeks ago I observed two self-contained classes of children with autism. I was awed at the way their teachers were able to help them, but autism is on the *increase*. It would be miraculous to have a cure.

Deb

 

[canadiangrrl]

Since there appear to be more than a few dog people on board (F&I, AGBF, Aljdewey, Leonid, to name a few) I thought I would tell you all about the greatest dog that ever lived, my Gunnar.

He came into our family at the age of four months. A colleague of my father's was moving, and could no longer keep this young pup. He was a purebred German Shepherd, and typical of the true German working dog - compact in size, lean, energetic, and smarter than your average high school freshman.

He owned us for thirteen years. I was not-quite-two when he romped into our lives, and I was fifteen when he was humanely euthanized and died in my arms in the office of our veterinarian.

My mother was initially nervous about having what was sure to grow into a large, powerful dog around young children. GSD's have a fearsome reputation, and she was rightly afraid of this young beast attacking one of the kids. He quickly assuaged her fears by proving that he enjoyed being our companion above all else (well, except maybe chasing cats and squirrels, and destroying Christmas ornaments.)

Gunnar listened to my father, but he loved children best of all.

At the age of three, it was my custom to take a morning nap on the living room floor - on the dog, with a bottle of juice in one hand, and Sesame Street on the television. This is the adult male equivalent of dozing in a Barcalounger with a cold beer on the coffee table beside you, and (insert your sports team of choice) beating the hell out of (insert sports team of your choice) on a Sunday afternoon. Pure bliss.

For his entire life, Gunnar slept in my bed. I am to this day a stomach sleeper, and Gunnar would lay beside me, with one paw resting gently across my back. As a child, I had terrible pollen allergies, which often caused what are known as "allergic shiners" - dark undereye circles. In the second grade, I had a particularly rigid, imagination-less teacher from Belgium, whose English was spotty and whose ideas of children leaned towards the philosophy of "seen but not heard." She actually sent this note home with me one day - "Mr. & Mrs. _______ - Your daughter appears often fatigued. I am informed that she is sleeping with the dog. It is not conducive to hygiene or a good night's rest. Respectfully, I remain, Mademoiselle________"
My parents thought this was absolutely priceless, and the note remained on our fridge for many years. It provoked much hilarity - my father would bellow to the dog in a faux-Scottish brogue - "YAR NAUGHT CANDUCIVE TA HAAAAAIGEEEEENE!" We would all crack up, and Gunnar would smile. I swear it, he smiled.

Gunnar exhibited the viciously protective behaviour that is often attributed to GSD's only once in his lifetime. One hot summer day when I was six, my cousin and I were playing in an inflatable pool in our backyard. My mother was watching us, and so was Gunnar, from his vantage point under a large, shady tree. My mother went inside briefly to answer the telephone. A man called out to my cousin and I from the chain link fence that separated our backyard from a common pathway. I can clearly remember thinking that it was odd that he wore a long, zippered lumber jacket, jeans, and boots, because the heat and humidity were nothing short of oppressive that day. As my cousin and I approached the fence, the man began to unzip his jacket. And then his jeans. He exposed himself to us, and my cousin turned to me and said, "Why's he showing us his worm?" (As two girls who'd both grown up with brothers, skinny-dipping at the cottage, it was nothing we hadn't seen before. And, in a catty adult aside, it was nothing. Really.)

From forty feet back, Gunnar charged. He threw himself at the chain link fence, barking a bark I had never heard before - it was loud, terrifying, and fierce. Over and over again, he flung his powerful body at the fence. The man bolted. I remember his face had turned the colour of old newspaper. My mother came running out of the house, alarmed. After explaining what had happened, she became very upset, and tried to herd us into the house. We girls went willingly - the dog did not. He sat there at that fence, unmoving, for four hours, until my father got home. My mother took him a bowl of water at one point. He didn't even look at it, and I can't imagine how hot and thirsty he must have been. When my father arrived, he called to the dog to come in. Gunnar's ears flickered, but otherwise, he didn't move. And this was a dog who always obeyed my father. I watched from my bedroom window as my father went out into the yard. He spoke quietly to the dog, and took him gently by the collar and led him into the house.

That night, my mother did something unbelievable. She walked down the street to the local butcher shop, and bought Gunnar a steak.

Gunnar's decline happened slowly. Being as active as he was, he merely declined into a more normal level of activity.

He was a little less quick to catch a stick, a little more slow in bringing it back. But he was still the fastest dog in the park, and his spirit remained vibrant.

One winter morning I woke up to find that he was not in my bed beside me. It was early, before dawn, and I stumbled out of bed to look for him. I found him on the landing of our staircase. He was lying in his own urine and excrement, and he could not move one side of his body. I tried to pick him up - he was ninety pounds and at fifteen, I didn't weigh that much more - he was just too heavy and awkward. I ran upstairs, shouting for my father. He came quickly, and kneeled beside the dog for a long moment. I could feel hysteria mounting inside me. "We need to call someone, get him somewhere right away! There has to be an emergency clinic that would be open right now!" My father said nothing. He put his hand out to the dog. And for the first time, I looked at Gunnar's face, in his eyes. He looked, for lack of a better word, humiliated. He stuck out his long tongue and tried to lick my father's hand. He missed - his brain was misfiring. My father turned to look at me. "It's time to let him go," he said. I burst into tears. "No! No! I won't let you do that to him! He's just, he's just, he'll be fine, you can't do that to him, I won't let you, I need-" And my father put his hand on mine, and said, ever so quietly, "This isn't about you."

I believe with all my heart and soul that animals teach us humans valuable lessons in the art of compassion, and the true worth of companionship. I believe, in equal measures, that a large part of a parent's job is to teach their child to be an emotionally intelligent adult. Emotional intelligence stems in part from the realization that you are not the centre of the universe. Some hard lessons learned on a frigid February day.

I miss you, G.

 

[Mara]

CG what a touching story....you made me tear up....you have excellent writing, girl!




I'm a dog lover...have had two in my lifetime..and wait anxiously for my third...but timing just never seems to be right to make that committment. I would much rather have animals than children. Some people say...'Just get a dog already! You have been talking about it for years!' But I want to be sure that we can be the best 'parents' and companions that dog can have. I don't want to get a dog just because, and then have us live our normal lifestyle (which means we are never home) because that wouldn't be fair to the dog. So until our lives calm down a bit...no dog for us.

It seems that every time I think we are ready, something happens to take up more of our time.




But I wait..anxiously...hoping..and have a picture on the fridge....a West Highland White Terrier. We had one when I was 15...our second dog...and I adored this little girl. She was precious and perfect and loved me. Then my mother unexpectedly (wait I thought you tied those?!) got pregnant with my youngest sister and didn't feel that we could fairly split the family time between the existing pet who got so much attention, and the coming pet...I mean sister...that would demand so much attention. I still am upset about that decision, I didn't even really get to weigh in. I would have gladly taken responsibility for the dog if it meant we could keep her.

I adore my youngest sister who is now 13, I am her godmother...and she looks exactly like me....but to this day I still tease her about how we gave away the dog for her! It's nothing she hasn't heard her whole life.

So in the meantime I wait...and wait...one day soon...we'll get another girl just like the one we had but this one will be even more special than the first!! /idealbb/images/smilies/5.gif




Oh and the youngest sister....future dog babysitter! She actually waits just as anxiously as we do...she loves dogs too.

 

[canadiangrrl]

Thank you Mara.

I like Westies too, they're energetic and fun. Mr. Canadiangrrl owned a terrier, too - a Wire Haired Fox Terrier - slightly bigger than the Westie, I think. Just over a month ago, he had her euthanized. She had lymphoma, and had had one round of chemo, which put her lymphoma into remission, but damaged her bladder severely. She was nine, and a complete ball of fire.

I agree with you on the commitment issue - dogs are a lot of work. But they're worth it.

If you can find someone to walk/let the dog out during the day, it can be managed with dual careers. Just a thought!

Mr. Canadiangrrl & I are going to get a dog next summer. And a cat.

Probably rescues, maybe a GSD or a Newfie. Can't wait to have a dog again!!

 

[Mara]

Our first dog was a Fox Terrier..the small kind though he wasn't wire haired...smooth haired. He was white with black spots...I wanted to name him Spot (I was something like 5) but my mom came up with a more creative name, Spreckles.....he was awesome and yes a ball of fire!!! He could run faster than anyone else, no one could catch him if he didn't want you to.He would jump up on the fence and over into our neighbors yard and terrorize the birds in the nearby trees. Hilarious. I don't know how many mornings I came out to call him and he was on the other side of the fence.

I've got a soft spot for terriers

 

[canadiangrrl]

My God, you're describing Storm.

In the fourteen months that I knew her, I learned the following things, both from her behaviour and various sites on dogs/Fox Terriers:

1) They're incredibly tenacious.

2) They're escape artists.

3) They're almost impervious to pain.

4) They're much stronger, physically, than their body weight (Storm was around 24 lbs.) would suggest.

5) They can be complete and utter clowns.

She was a great dog, but for one thing - she hated other animals. Dog, cat, squirrel, rabbit...didn't matter...she went after them with gusto. She was territorial to the max, and that was problematic - she would sit by the sliding back doors of my fiance's house, and if she saw another animal enter the yard, she'd bark insanely, then she'd pee. I'm not kidding!

 

[winyan]

My little girl is a Cairn Terrier. She's my second dog, and oddly enough, she's almost a reincarnation of my first, Benji (yah, I know, not much in the way of imagination for a name, but if you saw *her* you'd know why!). Benji was a mutt, part Border Terrier, part Border Collie, and all heart. So's Ruairidh (Rory). She loves everything and everyone, (especially children) with one exception. She HATES squirrels.

She's everything anyone would want in a dog, plus a real clown...and she snores.

Snores loud, almost human like...it's the most amusing thing, truly, even when it's time to sleep, I laugh at her...poke her, she rolls on her side and stops. (Needless to say, she's denied little, not even the bed.)

Rory is 8 now, and I'm starting to get scared. Cairns are known long lived, and I'm praying this one is. Benji was 18 when she left me. Hopefully Rory will last as long, if not longer.

win

 

[Mara]

Escape artists indeed!! And endearingly mischevious!

 

[Mikesgirl]

canadiangrrl, I just read your post about Gunnar, and oh my, what a wonderful thing to have experienced (in all it's joy and sadness) and how wonderfully you convey it. You should definitely be a writer. Thank you so much for sharing this story. It makes me look at my two yapping little cuddle bugs (bichons) in a totally different light.

 

[fire&ice]

Great moving story Canadiangirl. It's funny how these creatures know "danger". I trust my dog's judgement about people.

 

[Lanee]

Some of you guys have such great historical info about your families-I'm jealous. I love knowing about you. I'm really impressed with you, your love match and his credentials.

 

[Jaded Gem]

Hey Canadiangrrl. Congrats on finding Mr. Canadiangrrl and your future nuptials.

"Parlais vous francais?" Sorry to be so out of the loop with some of these "Who's Who" postings. Yeah, I took three or four years of French in high school, but I can't really speak a drop now. I agree totally with you that one's language comprehension and usage will fade when one does not utilize the language on a regular basis. Heck, I'm forgetting how to even write my name in Chinese despite spending four years studying the language and a year living in China. It's a shame. I guess I should get out there more and practice. I usually tell my husband that we should plan more trips since I love travelling and learning about different cultures. Too bad he's always tied down by work. Anyway, I was moved when I read your stories. Both were equally touching. I never had a chance to have or dog or cat for a pet. I'm highly allergic to a lot of things like dog and cat dander. Nonetheless, I always admire how some people are so connected to their pets. I always wished for a dog or a cat. Anyway, lovely story. I know that Gunnar probably lives in you, and you are shaped by your experiences with him. Thanks for sharing them with us.