About artofdad

I'm an artist and dad blending together the two things I love most - my family and drawing.

Take two bags of Doritos and call me in the morning.


So, after a long and fairly challenging run, my dog and I return home for a drink and a rest. His rest is significantly deep. Like five hours deep. Hardly moving deep. I notice that when I pass him or there’s some kind of noise, he jerks his head up and then lolls back down. He seems, off. Six hours post run my son bounds past, startling him into a standing position which quickly becomes a crouch, which quickly becomes a flopping back to the ground. I’m now officially concerned.

I offer him water. He doesn’t take it.

I offer him food. He doesn’t take it.

He’s a lab. Not taking food means something is seriously wrong.

After much coaxing, he stumbles up and ambles towards us, his balance clearly off. “That’s it”, I say, “he’s having a stroke.” Within several tense moments we have him into the car and in front of the vet’s office. It’s after hours. Emergency fees apply. I don’t care. I just want my dog to be better.

“Do whatever it takes!” I plead. “Cost is no object!”.

I’m not allowed into the clinic so I sit nervously in the car, awaiting an update. Ten minutes pass, then fifteen. I’m fearing the worst. Finally the vet comes out, her mask covering up the expression on her face that I’m hoping to read. She pauses in front of me, wipes her brow and says,

“Your dog is stoned.”


“It’s surprisingly common,” she says. “Did he eat anything while you were on your run?”

Walking a lab is like walking a tiger shark, they eat everything in their path, so I’m guessing he found something that was dropped accidentally. Dogs are hit hard and quickly with THC. They have a test in the clinic and she shows me the results.


“We’ve given him some fluids and helped him ingest a charcoal based substance to bind the drug for removal. Take him home, give him 2 bags of Doritos, and a dark place to sleep it off.”

Ok, she didn’t add the Doritos part but she may as well have.

He crashed when we got home and didn’t wake again until 12:43am. I know the exact time because I slept beside him, knowing he’d need help at some point during the night.

I’d like to think he’s learned from this but I know better. Heck, he may have even enjoyed the experience. I’ve learned something though, a stoned dog looks a lot like an ill dog and for $400 you can confirm the difference between the two.

The Covid Cut


In times like these I consider this less a bad haircut and more good parenting that emboldens independent thought and co-operative play.

I like you just the way you are


We’re all looking for great entertainment and it’s a bonus when parents can watch with their kids. Two movies that we recently shared together are: Hunt for the Wilderpeople and A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood. Well worth checking out.

Be well.

Class begins

Class begins

Extremely grateful for the hard work all the teachers out there are putting in to make classes possible but I’m still getting used to the kid’s bedroom doors being shut with earplugs jammed into their ears so that they can participate while at home.

And gym in the bedroom kinda makes my heart ache.

Be well.

Getting euchred

Get euchred

Re-invigorating this game into our lives is proving good fun amongst teens and parents alike if more for the commentary than the actual card play.

Be well.

Stupid Virus


Back to school in our board started today, online. Giddy-up.

Getting the message

stay home

We’ve all been up longer than Mr. Bear so let’s do our part.

Be well.

Respecting Social Distancing

elk distancing

So this is interesting. The leadership in Banff showed their caring and strength by asking people to stay home and not visit. This from a town that is built on and relies deeply upon tourism. So far people are respecting that and a curious thing is happening. The animals are taking back place. Cougars, packs of coyotes and herds of elk and deer are roaming the streets. As we push into spring it will only be a matter of time until the bears join the fray.

Thank you everyone, for respecting, abiding by and promoting staying at home. And when you must go out, please don’t be like these wolves, give others space. It’s for the health of all of us.

Be well.

Burned butt cheek


So, I decided to take the hound for a run and due to the fact that I know the beasties are out, I strapped on my bear spray. We’ve had a good season of snow so the back gate that separates our property and the forest can only open about a 1/4 of the way due to packed in snow and ice. It’s not such a big deal, I just have to squeeze my body at the right angle to get through. Except on this occasion, I didn’t do it quite right. Mid-squeeze I was shocked to hear a loud and pronounced “HIIISSSSSSS” emanating behind me. There was a brief moment where time stopped. I stood there, squashed between fence pole and gate door, one leg up thinking to myself, “Is what I think happening really happening?” It was.

My left butt cheek was on fire.

With Olympic calibre speed I sprinted to the house, threw off the bear spray and belt and peeled off all my bottom layers – much to the surprise of my son who stood agape. I could feel the the heat intensifying as I raced passed him saying “The bear spray exploded on my ass!”. Naturally I did all the wrong things – rubbed water on it instead of misting whole milk (who knew? I know now…), lost track of what my hand had touched when ripping off my infected clothes and only realized as I wiped sweat from my brow and left eye – which now also burned, albeit less intensely. A raging orange welt of capiscum (a waxlike extract of hot pepper) tattooed my cheek and the burn was unrelenting for an hour. It’s still slightly raw. And that’s through two layers of fabric (which I now have to clean with gloves, cold cream and much soaking). I couldn’t begin to imagine the pain of getting a shot of that in the face.