Monthly Archives: August 2009

Oh, the shame!

So, Jenge and I decided to hire a dog walker. She will come twice a week and suit up all three dogs for a half hour walk.

Yesterday was her first day.

My mum emailed me when the dog walker came to get them, and then again, half an hour later when she returned.

Someone got a bad report card.

Was it Portia? Known for trolling for garbage and trying to chase rabbits?


Was it Rocky? Who barks non stop for the first 20 minutes of a walk? and also likes to chase large trucks?


Nay, the dog walker said that it was Lola. Lola!

LolaThe Dog walker wrote that she was “Ill Behaved” and that her behavior would be “unacceptable” in a large dog.


So guess who has to have special training lessons now.

I’m so embarrassed! Lola!


Oh Perry!

Perry was my car. He was my reliable boy. A ’97 Pontiac Grand Am. Six cylinders. Look at the hood on him!

Perry the Pontiac
Perry the Pontiac

He had issues. But so did I so it was okay. I spent a lot of time with Perry. To and from Vancouver. To and from work, to and from wherever I wanted to go. If I had Perry, I felt safe. It meant I could leave whenever I wanted.

Despite his issues, I found him strangely reliable. While I worried sometimes that he would leave me stranded, I never really thought he would do it, and he never did.

I knew pretty much how long I had once his “Low Gas” light came on, and I pushed it almost every time. I knew that when his gauges started flickering, he would settle out by Avenida [five minutes from my house]. He made a “thunkah clicka clicka” sound that only I heard, usually about 3 minutes into our morning drive. His windshield wipers weren’t so hot, and I didn’t like to replace them. I got talked into replacing them once, and they were WORSE after that so I left them mostly alone.

I could add coolant, oil and change all of his lights. I changed one of his tires once.

I ate in that car, dozed in that car, took smoke breaks from work in that car, cried in that car, drove the puppies in that car. I cursed his check engine light, on pretty much non stop for the last six years. I cringed when the ABS light came on. Or the coolant light. I would glare at the non-existent A/C.

But I knew how fast he could accelerate, and I knew how hard to hit the breaks. Sigh. I’m gonna miss him.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my new car, Johnny Fiama [pics to come soon]. He’s new. What’s not to like? He has air conditioning. He is clean. He smells like new car. But I haven’t yet bonded with him. I’m sure I will. I know we will be great friends. But new friends don’t ever replace old friends. They are just new.

Oh, Perry! I hope they didn’t scrap yard you! And if you did, I hope it was quick!