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.

One day, at the vet…


I thought pets were supposed to help chill you out…

A chipmunk a dog and a spaghetti strainer


Working from home has its share of disadvantages. Laundry, filthy floors and other house distractions are always pulling me away from what I need to be doing. It also has its advantages like being able to set my own hours, a picturesque green space out our backyard, a stocked refrigerator and wildlife being chased into my home.

So it was just the other day when working at my computer I heard Indy come charging towards the front door. I literally turned and said out loud, “Dude, what’s all that about?” I watched as he stood as still as a statue in a classic hunting pose, tail erect and one leg up and crooked, by the opening to our hall cupboard. I then looked on in horror as he dove into the pile of shoes and boots and came up holding a chipmunk in his mouth.

This is exactly the kind of thing non-pet owners miss out on.

I shouted at him to “DROP IT!”, which he obediently did. Unsurprisingly it took off again. Into our living room.

Indy charged after it, his deep set animal instincts running at full throttle. Thankfully the follow-up to that instinct to chase, the actual biting down or thrashing the poor rodent to death, did not happen.

Still bewildered by the goings on I ordered him to drop it again. Which he did, resulting in a third get away and subsequently a third chase. By this time I’d raced to the kitchen to retrieve a spaghetti strainer (made sense at the time) and between the two of us we trapped the panicked and confused chipmunk under the strainer. Sliding a file folder underneath I was then able to scoop up and release the little beast back into the wild with the only evident casualty being it’s significantly damper and matted fur covered in dog drool.

Working from home with a pet in the house is never dull.


Getting to know the neighbours…

griz visit

I walk Indy at least 3 times a day. I’m pretty lucky because I can walk out from my backyard into a marvellous network of trails. We’ve had a bumper crop of buffalo berries this year thanks to a mild winter and lots of rain this spring and summer. Lots of berries means lots of bears and today we came across our first grizzly. Grizzlies have been making a name for themselves locally over the last month, chasing cyclists in the nordic trails and generally being pretty ornery. Fair game. They need this time to eat as much as possible to prepare for the winter so I don’t judge their temper. Indy saw the bear first, hackles up, growling. The bear saw us, Indy barked, and it ran. Away from us (thankfully). The heart beat definitely quickened but I stayed cool, brought out my bear spray and walked away and back home as fast as I could. This is one neighbour you don’t want to get on the wrong side of!

Worst house guest ever.

indy dinner

Dogs. Sigh.

Eat, throw-up, repeat. Ahhh… the life of a lab.


Yeah, so this is a great way to spend a couple of hours after school. Solution? Call in the special assistants and remove the apples by whatever means possible…


And here’s a small gif created from the above sketches.  It turned out ok though I’m not crazy about the timing… Anyway here’s the lab in action!


A walk in the park…

bear walk

A brilliant walk at Stanley Glacier was punctuated with a unique crossing not 15 feet in front of us. I’m pleased to say no one panicked, the dog was on the leash and the big brute wasn’t interested in us. A walk in the park takes on a whole different meaning…

My new shadow

puppyshadowGo away for a month and this is what happens when you return…

Walking under bears

underablackbearWhat is it with me and the wildlife here?

Early Grave…

early grave