She is Puppy

How can it be 

That I already love

This puppy so much,

Who's only a small

Ball of nonsense:

Messy and clumsy

Making a scene

Over every 

Little move we

Make, crying when we

Go to bed and 

Taking over our whole 

Lives, like a dandelion,

Conquers a yard in spring. 

How could it be 

That this small

Animal, born in a

Dark, stinky barn,
Just a farmer's dog,

Could bring such joy,
So that the world

Looks more bright and

Life seems a more

Doable task again.

Every day she learns

Something new and

Every night she dreams

Of snow-covered slopes,

Millions of smells,

And the two people

Who now fill her heart -- 

And fill her bowl

Three times a day. 

She is puppy, 

Good girl, Snowball,

Loved and loving all,

Cuddles and mud,

Pee and Soft kisses,

Sticks and Bones Chewed,

A welcome home,

A new beginning,

Part of our lives

Now and forever,

The baby in the house.
She is the puppy
We love.

Good morning, everyone! Eight days ago, on a cold, April Sunday evening, we brought home a small, but rather big-for-a-puppy dog. She was bred by farmers who use the animals to guard their livestock and property. She was the runt of a family that included four sisters and three brothers.

The moment my husband spotted her, he knew she was the one for us.  She threw up in the car and barely moved when we first got her. A week later, she feels completely at home and is rapidly taking over every aspect of our lives. Her name is Snowball.

We already have two cats and they are very loved but a dog seemed like the next step for life here in the forest of Manitoba. Besides being great company, a dog is also a safety feature in this habitat we share with foxes, bears, coyotes, fishers and raccoons. Pyrenees are bred to be guard dogs and are noted for being patient, subdued and very good-looking.

She really is joy personified. I admit I was nervous about being able to keep up with the work required to have a small animal in the house and it has been a real challenge but the pure bliss she has for life makes it all worth it! I have uploaded a video I took of her below.

What about you? Are you an animal lover? Can you relate to some of the feelings in this poem? I would love to hear your feedback in the comments section below.

Love Sharilee. Hey thanks so much for reading. I would love to hear your comments and input in the space below. Also, if you like what you are reading, sign up through my Facebook page. or receive posts by e-mail by joining here

The Fragile Nature of Our Lives

Hey everyone! I hope you had a good week! My week has been stressful, with much of my time being spent trying to get some testing done, at my teaching job. Let's just say that testing makes me a bit "testy," to put it nicely!

I did manage to get a couple of walks in, though. Yesterday, my gorgeous husband and I rediscovered a little beach about fifteen minutes walking time from our house. It's a beach not large enough to attract any attention from the public, or outsiders, but will certainly do for a quick afternoon swim or getaway for the few dozen denizens of our little community here. We are pretty isolated, but it is finds like this that make the isolation seem worth it.

The shoreline is spattered with long trees that seem to have come from the shore of the lake. They have been washed bare by the water and resemble a big pile of dinosaur bones, or perhaps some kind of exotic sea creature:

As I soak in the beauty of the lapping water, my gorgeous husband points out a billowing cloud of smoke on the far shoreline. We think it might be the forest fire which is burning about 3 hours east of us, the Manitoba-Ontario border.  No one has been hurt in this fire yet, but the billowing clouds in the horizon (not quite visible on this photo) remind us of how close to home it is.

The fires here in Manitoba are serious, but seem almost unmentionable when compared to the fire that the whole country, is now watching in horror. In Fort McMurray, an inferno rages, one created by the hot and dry conditions, one that no one could have predicted.

This fire, which has now raged for a week long, have forced the evacuation of 80, 000 residents and has burned down most of a city. Estimates say the fire is the size of Mexico City. The devastation is unimaginable. But I also feel so proud of my home province as I hear stories of heroes: a teacher and school bus driver who gets a group of students out of the city with only a school bus, a flat of water bottles and a few granola bars. Convoy drivers plowing through the rabble with supplies on the ground, determined to help in any way they can, unable to sit idly by and wait for the officials to get there.

These are my people, my fellow Canadians. I feel sad and proud. I have been to Fort McMurray. I flew there for work a few years back. I know that place: an isolated city plunked in the middle of the wilderness, where people come to make a fortune, but ended up staying for their neighbours. I am so relieved when I find out that my former students are okay, thanks to the Facebook check-in system.

My heart goes out to everyone involved. Many evacuees have now said goodbye to life as they knew it. They will be waiting for permission to go back, but perhaps many never will. Parents will have to explain to their children why they cannot go back to the home that they loved. There will be the indignity of living with strangers, the stress of not knowing what is next, and perhaps for some, a post-traumatic stress reaction to the horrifying memories they will carry with them for the rest of their lives.

And besides the human loss, which is devastating, there is the loss of habitat. Those beautiful trees, hectares of sublime scenes, such as this one close to my house, are gone, leaving behind only the charred remains. I  have not heard what has happened to all of the animals of the forest, but that is so heartbreaking, too.

The fire on the news reminds me that my life here in the woods, as everywhere, is fragile. I do need to be grateful for every day, for every glimpse of beauty, for losing life as we know it is only a spark, only a phone call, only a cancer diagnosis away.

On Mother's Day today, hold your loved ones close. And say a prayer, if you pray, for those who have only their loved ones to hold, with most everything else gone.


Love Sharilee. Hey thanks so much for reading. I would love to hear your comments and input in the space below. Also, if you like what you are reading, sign up through my Facebook page. or receive posts by e-mail by joining here

The Fine Line Between A Suggestion and A Push

Well, I confess. My husband and I had a little fight today. Not one of those big ones that last all day, and into the next day, where neither one of us wants to break the silence and we sulk around like 2-year-old's on a rampage. No, not one of those. 

But just a little fight. What was it about? Well, we have been really concentrating on saving money lately, being frugal. Trying to get out from underneath the heavy blanket of debt which threatens to smother us with its big numbers. 

The little tiff was concerning ... wait for it ... satellite television. Pretty ridiculous, right? Well, here is the background. Since moving to the bush, we haven't had any t.v.. They don't offer cable services in our area, and we could not get ourselves to pay those crazy expensive satellite rates. So, our t.v. is just sitting upstairs, an ugly decoration in our bedroom. 

Surprisingly enough, I was the one who wanted t.v.. He didn't. But I wanted it for him. Why was it so important to me? 

Well, at our old place, in the city, we had a routine for our evenings. I wrote online; he watched television. And it worked. Both of us were happy. But here, my gorgeous husband does without. No wrestling, motor cross sports, no programs about building immense bridges, or blowing them up. Nothing exciting to watch. Just Facebook games for my husband. 

And I felt bad for my honey, as I watched him play yet another round of Slotsomania.  He seemed bored, I thought. So, I pushed for getting some satellite service. At around $90 a month, he just saw another bill. And he didn't want it. 

I thought he was just being nice, though, and secretly wanted to get service. My mind raced: "the poor guy, nothing exciting to watch. He needs some macho programs to rev him up!" So, I thought of another way to get it. 

"We could up our internet service, and then just watch Netflix all the time," I suggested.

 "NO! I don't want it. Can't you just listen to what I say? Why do you have to push until you get your way?"

And there it was: the love push. I was pushing. To me, it was love. I thought I knew what he wanted. So, I pushed, for his sake. (I can live without t.v. pretty easily myself.) 

But I was just assuming I knew what he wanted. Instead of believing him, I pushed. I will call it a "love push." I am pushing him out of what I perceive is best for him. But he rightly sees it as manipulation. 

And one more confession. That was not the first little spat we had tonight. We had had one more, just a couple hours before. That was about .... duh-duh-duh ... sour cream! Can you get much sillier than that?? 

And yes, it was another "love push." He had gone to the store for our dinner and got some items for the tacos I was making. 

I had given him a list, but neglected sour cream. When he got back, I realized my mistake, and wondered if he might be able to go and get some sour cream, because it would make the meal just perfect. 

He didn't want to, but I thought it would just wreck his meal if he didn't have it with his taco. When, I suggested he try the little store close by and that it was only ten minutes away, he blew up. He didn't feel like going, and I kept pushing. You see, I "knew" that it would mean so much more for him to have sour cream with his taco. 

Well, he finally did go and get the sour cream (after a few more of my helpful "suggestions") and by the time he got back, both of us were repentant. (And feeling a little silly for fighting over a container of sour cream!) 

I apologized for pushing him, when he clearly did not feel like going. Then, I did it again, with the television. I might be a slow learner, but I am finally starting to get the fact that manipulation can be rooted in love, and maybe that is why I don't realize I am doing it. 

And I also realize that I do have a power of persuasion, and I must be mindful of how I use it, so that's not being used to overcome another person's will, for my own purposes. Because a love push is still a push, no matter what the motive. 

And I think we can easily justify "influencing" people around us for the sake of what's best for them: our children, our partners, our siblings and friends, but at what cost? And is it really best for them? How do we know? 

Please let me know if you have any thoughts; if you can relate. I truly appreciate hearing any comments. 


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