Gus is almost 50 pounds (49 with the needle jumping a bit to 50)! Daisy is trailing in a dainty 40 pound glamour-bod (more leg, fluffy hair, extra bit of bounce). That is 90 pounds of dog!

Gus just thuds. Well, he rolls and runs and climbs all over but each paw sends reverberations through the granite rock or, well, OK, maybe it’s my imagination....? Put a bit differently; Daisy seems to walk on air, like a ballerina. Gus walks like a weight-lifter after a big lunch.

They are both (duh) growing like weeds and it is a smidge intimidating. “I swear the guy grew last night! I mean, he just LOOKS bigger than just a few hours ago!”

Eighteen weeks old! Four and a half months! Still puppies, still growing, still eating and still goofier than hell! A lot of fun.

Sal does most of the dog walking. I do a bit. Funny how a walk with a dog makes you see things differently. Yesterday, there were three separate Garter snakes sunning on the rocks. The dogs were fascinated. But the snakes being cold-blooded were not quick, not zippy. They were long slugs, actually. Gus sniffed. Daisy sniffed. Sal shrieked (to save the snakes) and both dogs gave up their new toys instantly. We’re a bit protective of Garter snakes. They are good for the garden and keep the insect pests away.

“We saw a mink, David! Daisy even kind of ambled over to it. It was not much of a chase and the mink didn’t run. I think Daisy got distracted. Anyway, the mink jumped in to the ocean and swam off.” Sal was more excited than the dogs. The dogs are definitely NOT hunters. Lesson learned: how we have this weird little community of squirrels, snakes, dogs, otters, ravens and mink and Spring is waking everything up……

But, it is said by Sal, that they are becoming ‘alert’ dogs. Which is some kind of descriptive sop for a dog that doesn’t do much. To pad out their resume, Sal also throws in “….good trail dogs, too.”

“What the hell is a trail dog and what makes one dog a better trail dog than another?”

“You know….we are all on the trail and they stay on the trail unless they stray a bit but they always come back to the trail….?”

“Sweetie, that is just a good dog. There is no such thing as a trail dog. Quite honestly, I have always doubted your reference to ‘alert’ dog, too. All dogs bark when they hear or see something new. That’s what being a dog is.”

“No, no. They alert me. So, they are alert dogs. That’s their job. And they walk on the trail really well. So they are great trail dogs, too.”

“Well, in that case, I am going to describe them as being good ‘pooping’ dogs, good eating dogs and good sleeping dogs. What the hell…they are great tail-wagging dogs, too!”

The truth is they are great at just being dogs and they do not have to prove anything to me at all. Especially not at four-and-a-half months! I might have expectations of them sometime in the distant future but, for now, they are just perfect.

Sal, on the other hand……..

This topic is a real struggle for me. It’s basically about truth, lies, propaganda and the resulting confusion, mistrust and apathy that inevitably follows. But, at a different level it is also about function, energy allocation, focus and life. It’s personal! Put bluntly: it turns out we need truth to operate properly and lies makes us operate like idiots!

My examples below are not particularly good ones but they are recent, current, ongoing.

Let’s first look at how our media’s current dysfunction recently affected Trudeau and, ultimately, us. He was just given a good dressing down by some European parliament MPs who accused him of first being a China-lover, then a democracy hater and finally a bully because of his actions regarding the Freedom convoy that occupied Ottawa. I am, as you know, 100% displeased with Trudeau as a leader but everything they said about him was wrong. Totally fabricated. Two idiots in Europe have miscast Trudeau to the European Union. Two idiots have miscast Canada and the people in it.

How do we explain away two well-placed, educated, informed and elected MPs being so ignorant, so wrong and so misled?

Blame it on the media, I guess.

Now let’s look at Ukraine and Russia, for a second. I read, see, hear every day how valiantly the Ukrainian forces are defending their country and, frankly, I believe most of it. I hear of Russian soldiers deserting, surrendering, condemning their leaders. I kinda believe much of that, too. I see wrecked Russian tanks, fallen fighter jets and helicopters and even a good-sized ship or two that has been sunk. Ukraine is punching way above their weight. I am sure of that….. well, pretty sure…..

And yet…..Russia plods along. The heroic messages and stories do not quite jibe with the fall of Mariupol and the loss of the two eastern states. There has to be a lot more going on. But what is it? Most of the real story goes unreported, I think.

Blame that on the media, too, I guess.

And the media have been reporting the fall and destruction of Trump’s evil empire for a long time. For four years it was ‘wait ’til the next election and then he’s gonna get his.’ And then Biden won. And then the Attorneys General, the FBI, the special counsels and the media ramped it up. And yet, Manafort, Stone, Bannon and, most of all, Trump, family and friends still just carry on. Put another way, Capitol rioters who only violated the law of trespass and vandalism are already in jail and doing their time. Trump has been crooked since the day he was born. But he’s free. How is that possible? Is he going down? Or not?

Oh, hell, blame that on the media, too, I guess. To my mind, if Trump doesn’t suffer significantly, there is something significantly wrong in this world.

“Dave! What’s your point?”

The media can’t be trusted? The media do not do a good job? The media is just propaganda? Maybe the media cannot do a good job?

I really do not know the answer. I guess the media (whatever it REALLY is) has been that way for a long time and it is only the rapid inclusion and infusion of social media that has cast this different light on our primary information source. We were not confused when we had only one main media stream. Now we have many and the result is just confusion. Maybe we have been lied to or at least misled all of our lives?

Confusion? Mistrust? Apathy?

My Hong Kong friends constantly tell me a different story of Hong Kong than the one our media presents. They are happy. Western media says otherwise. My friends who go to Mexico every winter consistently tell me different stories about Mexico, too. I have friends in the Philippines, Germany, Britain and the United States. They all tell me different points of view from that which is reported.

Confusion? Mistrust? Apathy?

Bottom line: I have never read an accurate story about anything I was closely involved with either. Never. Not once. The reporter always got it wrong. That was usually quite alright for me because I was almost always the sympathetic subject (delinquents, Skid Row, refugees) and they told a story that made me look better than I was by a huge dollop of exaggeration. But they got it wrong. People reading it without the background were misled. Those reading it with the right perspective, were either lied to, misled or knew it was wrong but they were also okay with it (sympathy floats all boats in Skid Row).

Maybe the truth is too elusive and all we can hope for is to get close…….

“And sure enough, there it was,
not the sought-after needle, but,
to my agreeable astonishment,
the haystack in the field by the lane.”
― Robert Kroetsch,

Gus is 45 lbs. and stands 21” at his shoulder.  Daisy is 39 lbs. and, though more ‘leggy’, stands 20” tall.  She is more energetic and frolics a bit more but Gus is a close second.  They get along well and play and go on local (property) adventures but, generally speaking, they are ‘chill’.  Easy-going.  Nice manners.  Good temperament.  They are also healthy, strong and learning rapidly.  They pretty much have us trained already!

They are pretty chill until they sense they are headed to the car.  They really do not like the car.  Right now, nobody does.  Our car smells of dog puke.  CUTE dog puke but still, puke by any other name is still puke. 

Actually, Sal is starting to smell a little pukey, too.  To assuage Daisy’s slightly more sensitive stomach, Sal puts Daisy on her lap when we are in the car.  Fifteen minutes into the trip, Sally and Daisy’s breakfast are one.  There’s a shriek, a bit of mild cursing and I pull over.  Sal gets out with her lap dripping with kibble-goo.  Daisy looks woebegone and just lies in what is still on the seat.  Sal gets about half cleaning it all up and about then, Gus adds to the splatter.  There is no shrieking at this point but the mild cursing steps up a notch.  Stinky rags, paper towels and such are being deployed and plastic bags are starting to fill.  But, after ten minutes or so of fussing, we get going again…..and then 20 minutes later, we get to repeat the whole gastric assault thing one more time.  If the trip is longer than 45 minutes, we get it again.  We now travel even less than ever before. 

There was an exception to that the other day but that was because only the boat traveled.  The dogs are acclimating to the boat nicely.  And, anyway, I had the car.  Sal and the pups went on a community hike to a farther-out island.  A hike ‘round these parts’ is really more of a death march, a survival challenge and a not-so-subtle statement of fitness.  Did I mention that I had the car?  I chose the day of the hike to go into Campbell River and grind my face into the revolving fan-blades of doing ICBC paperwork and Motor Vehicle registration.  Plus I needed some parts.  It was hell but it was not the LONG MARCH the community undertook. 

There were twelve adults, a few kids and half a dozen dogs.  Concern for Daisy and Gus’s stamina, abilities and pace was expressed at the start.  Awe and respect were declared when the hike was complete three and bit hours later.  Daisy and Gus (four months old) scrambled up boulders, forded streams and generally acted as capable as any of the other dogs, a bit less than the kids, of course, and a great deal more than the adults.  This was a real hike.  Think: West Coast Trail.  Getting to base camp on Everest would be easier. 

When they thought the day was done and Sal and the dogs collapsed into sleepy bliss at home, I called them on the walkie-talkie.  “Could you come over and get me?”  So, Sal and the pups jumped up and headed over to pick me up.  They still had something in reserve.  But not much.  After a nice doggy dinner (Sal had a human dinner) they conked out.  I am not sure Sal noticed.  Her eyes closed early, too. 

Dogs = puke-cleaning, exercise, feeding, teaching and gobs of attention.  Sal says they are easier to live with than me but I am pretty sure she was kidding.  I mean, I hardly ever puke. 

It seems that people are getting their knickers-in-a-knot over the concept of ‘WOKE’ or, put more understandably: being more aware/alert to injustice in society, especially racism and sexism. Some folks are upset ABOUT instances of racism, sexism, etc. and some are upset about THOSE who are upset. Weird.

We sit on the precipice of environmental annihilation, a life-crippling pandemic and, quite possibly, WW3 and many are actually working fervently to wash everyone else’s mouth with soap. Everybody is becoming a harpy named Karen.

Admittedly, every infraction, violation or unfairness levied against another person primarily because of their skin colour or gender is wrong – on some level – and we should try and fix it. Why not? If it’s obviously race or gender based, it is almost always prejudice, discrimination or bigotry at work. That so-called woke position should be easy enough to support but, it turns out, unsurprisingly, a lot of people resent being told how to feel and be with others. “It’s my first amendment right to be a bigot and it is my second amendment right to wear camouflage, wear my hat backwards and carry a gun!”

I hate to admit it but, as a free-speecher, I kinda agree that good manners and being nice cannot be legislated. Still, I side with the ‘woke’ side on most racist/sexist issues but rarely enough to light my hair on fire.

But, I digress. Back to being or not being woke……the reason ‘wokedness’ is being seen as ‘bad’ by such illuminati as Barbara Kay, Rex Murphy and Jordan Peterson is not so much that they are racists or bigots but rather that they do not want to be censored or ‘cancelled’ for some meaningless slip-of-the-tongue like referring to Chinaman’s Creek by the name it had for decades or calling a flush-on-the-street entryway a man-hole cover when everyone knows women can go into the sewers the same way. WOKE/ANTI-WOKE? It all seems so silly.

Barb, Rex and Jordan make their living by words and so their perspective is, perhaps, a bit more rarefied than others but, in their lack of defense, they get a lotta Bubba support for their anti-woke stance. The Bubbas hate woke libtards with a passion. Same kinda people didn’t like hippies with long hair, don’t like Muslims with hajibs and don’t like well, anyone they can vilify and make an ‘other’.

Frankly, I used to think it was all just a tempest in a big, SILLY teapot. Where REAL prejudice, bigotry, hatred and action-against-others is provably manifest, they are also clearly wrong and probably illegal (unless the cops do it, of course). And where it is NOW perceived insensitive and/or rude to use a historic name like Squaw Valley, Nigger Ridge or Chinaman’s Creek, well, names can be changed. No biggy. I say, ‘change ’em’. The names were arbitrarily chosen anyway. But where Vaughn, Russel and even Kitchener are being criticized because they were named after historic figures who, it turns out, had the common personal flaws of their era (slavery, lice, corruption, etc.) then it is getting pretty weird. Look for a historic political or influential person without major flaws and only Jesus comes to mind.

But, is that all there is to it? Karens preaching to Bubbas on proper etiquette?

Maybe. Maybe not. There is another point of view that I have slowly grasped…consider, for example, that of a single black man who got rousted and hassled by the police well over 100 times over the course of a year when just going to work. He worked at a convenience store. Over his four years working there, Earl Sampson has been stopped and questioned 258 times, searched at least 100 times, arrested 62 times, and jailed 56 times by Miami police – every time while on his way to work, arriving at work or even, unbelievably, while AT work!

So, what has that to do with ‘woke or not?’ It’s all related. Sorta different ends of the same prejudicial spectrum but still related. Because I am white, kind of even look like a bit like a cop (it was the donuts) and act like I own the place, the chances of me getting stopped and hassled over those four years is virtually nil compared to Earl.

So, it seems I actually do have some sort of white privilege. Who knew? Well, that is, if one can say NOT being hassled is a privilege….? Clearly, Earl does not have even my lowly status (po’ white trash). Trust me when I say, Earl is likely a way better employee and a nicer, more pleasant clerk than I would ever be. Hell, there is a very high possibility I might have punched a customer or two in each and every one of those four years! It is in Florida, after all (even now I’d like to go down there and punch DeSantis and Trump). I am not a better man, employee, citizen or person than Earl. I am sure I am way worse.

In that sense, being ‘woke’ really just recognizes that being born any colour but white in this society (first world, North American) is a demerit point in the eyes of the police and, in some cases, with the whole system. Indigenous folks get a lot of that same hassle-crap in Canada. Being woke for me NOW means being aware that I am NOT being hassled because of my skin colour.

*WOKE: the word was borrowed from African American street slang. It has evolved somewhat these past few years to encompass other just causes and movements.

Pups, boats, neighbours, Wwoofers and all things pressing and current.

I need a better boat. NOT a great boat (all fancy and shiny) ’cause I am a local now and real locals drive crap-boats with brand new, more-expensive-than-a-car outboard motors. Locals do not use radar, or sat-nav or even e-charts on their phones. Real locals just ‘feel’ their way up the coast in the fog or the storm or the raging gale. Real locals do not use VHF radio, either. They say they do but they do not. A wire broke or a knob fell off or the fuse blew a few years ago and they just haven’t gotten around to fixing it.

But, anyway, I need something a smidge bigger in the boat department. Ideally, around 18 or 19 feet. Usually, I went bigger on things because well, I, myself, kept enlarging. Ergo bigger shorts, shirts, bigger beds, bigger cars. But, in my old age, I have actually halted corporeal expansion and am likely getting ready to shrink. It’s not my size that needs the size, it is my balance. My balance is no longer excellent. It is no longer good. It is no longer even adequate. I am a bit tippy now. So, as a tippy boater, I need to have a less-tippy boat. I have been looking.

One of my neighbours is a senior-ish, single woman and she has all the challenges of keeping hearth and home together as we all do but, unfortunately, she (like us) was raised urban and she has not developed all the skills and such that are needed. In and of itself, that is not a problem…well, at least not a long-term problem. She has money and she hires people. They come and fix things. It all works. But hiring people is a logistical nightmare. Travel time, pick-up and return trips, parts, materials…..it is a very difficult thing to run an OTG home using hired help if, for no other reason than getting things back in order in a timely manner. Can’t be done. To keep the house going, one really has to know at least level 1 DIY. By her own admission, she is level zero. I am level one. But I am encouraging Sal to get to 2.

Anyway, I took my level 1 skills over to her place yesterday and properly diagnosed a mystery electrical problem. But I did not have the level two skills required to fix it. I mention this only because living OTG can be very hard and only skill, knowledge, some money and attitude can keep it all together all the time and, even then, you have to be living in the house a lot of the time as well. She winters in Mexico. Springs are a bounty of surprise for her.

The pups are still good. Definitely showing their different characters more and more. Pretty cute. Daisy gently squeezes in a partly open door and, in so doing touches nothing. Gus stumbles and thuds through the same opening sending the door flying and the house a-shaking. They are very good pups. And…….

……..segue to Wwoofers, of course….Willing Workers On Organic Farms. Wwoof is an organization that joins young people from different countries with farms, rural enterprises, homesteads and even just very rural cabins like ours. They do some chores on the place and the host provides a bed and food. We have had over a dozen (maybe two) and it has always been fun. Sometimes you get a great Wwoofer (Christoff had skills and experience and more energy than a 20-mule team) and other times you get a city tourist-type who likes to go to Starbucks for an adventure but all of them were young and pleasant and we liked having them. After a three year hiatus, we will be hosting a young woman from Germany in June. She’s not huge. She’s too young to be skilled. But that is a good thing when the main chore you have is cleaning. This could work out just fine.

All of that was a long way of saying, ‘we can feel Spring is just around the corner’. It is not looming. Spring is not yet quite ‘in the air’ but flowers are a’popping and life is starting up….it’s subtle at this point but we are now pretty attuned to it. Spring is on the way.

Picking the eve of WW3 to start writing lighter, happy, puppy-based blogs might not be the best of timing but, in for a puppy, in for a few dozen pounds, it seems.

And pounds, they are accumulating. Gus is the size of a sheep! He has to be 34 pounds (we’ll weigh him today). Maybe more. (Official weigh-in just completed. OMG!!! Gus is 40 pounds! Daisy is 35!!!). Daisy is slimmer but a smidge taller. They are growing faster than the price of their food.

Weighing them is already a bit of a challenge now (Sal holding Gus today was a real challenge). Sal gets on the scale and we note her weight (she’s been getting lighter as the puppies work her hard all day) and then she steps on the scale again holding a wriggling, squirming, face-licking, crazy-puppy and I note the combined weight. Weight B subtracted from weight A yields the weight of the livestock.

They sound like livestock on the deck. Like Water Buffalo!

The last time I wrote about the puppies, they were very, very ‘puppy-ish’ but, over the last ten days or so, they have matured somewhat. They are almost housebroken now. No accidents inside anymore but I am not 100% confident yet. They are still just 16 weeks today.

They used to be reluctant to get on the boat and now they are willing – any show of enthusiasm will probably have to wait a while. But they go. They were very leery of the ocean but now they will play and splash up to their knees. That’s good. We kinda need them to like the water.

Sal had to do a hill-climb to check the stream-water the other day and I dropped them all at the beach. They cautiously followed Sal way up the stream and sniffed and stared at everything. But, when it was time to return, they were balancing on fallen logs, leaping in the stream, charging around and even led the way down to the beach. No more caution. No fear coming down. That little foreign exercise (to be inevitably repeated) became integrated into their lives pretty quick. They even re-boarded the boat by leaping in from the beach (not enthusiastically but they did it).

Sal really wants them to socialize. They have already had a couple of play-dates. Ruby Poodle came the other day for play-date #2 and was there yesterday for #3. She’s the tall brown one in the picture. Sal had taken ’em up for the food distribution day (when the water taxi comes in and the locals gather for their deliveries). And Hazel was also there. She’s the Golden Pyrenees/Retriever cross. Biggy Smalls (white one below) was also there. Everyone got along just fine altho Daisy tends to prefer a lap to a leaping. Gus, however, is right in there.

The timing for my writing happy, happy may be a bit off given the state of the world but it is good for us. We really needed a shot of puppy love to shake off our recent winters of discontent that we all faced for the last two or three years. I did, anyway. And Sal has reaffixed her perpetual smile/grin ever since they arrived (unless she is sleeping which is getting earlier and earlier each night). They have been good for us.

That Putin lies is an accepted truth (ironic, eh?). And that Western MSM spews false and ‘Merica-slanted news is also now a widely held belief. We get the propaganda, too. Throw in the mad participants of social media (and I suppose this blog qualifies) and the truth is more than elusive, it is impossible to find. And I think most people feel that way.

But maybe we can still believe our liars more than their liars? I mean, almost everything I have ever known firsthand that made it to the MS media was wrong. Virtually everything had a twist, emphasized the wrong thing, had errors and, in some cases, reported bald-faced lies. Journalists have personal biases, deadlines, editors, advertisers and their own mortgages to worry about and getting the real facts out about Skid Row or my Refugee work or my live-aboard days or even my time with delinquent youth was just NOT that important to them. And, in a way, they were right.. no one remembered the article or interview three days later anyway.

But I am inclined to believe our guys a bit more than their guys. Call me a dupe, but I do. I know that they are sloppy, they adhere to tight schedules, small facts are NOT that crucial to the story and all the excuses they may have but I KNOW they do report on topical events that I know happened. I mean, the western media is mostly based on some kind of reality. I mean: January 6th really happened. The Dumb Convoy really happened. Russia, China and many others just make crap up to suit them. And they kill anyone who disputes it. That has to say something for the veracity of our media. No?

Anyway, the upshot of all that is most people just shrug now and say, “Aww, it’s all BS. Them. Us. All lies!” and, because of that, they do not have to give it another thought. It is weirdly counter-intuitive to think that a large part of lying is not so much the actual dissembling of any one event or fact but rather the more subtle effect of making people disengage from seeking the truth.

So much BS spewed from Trump that, at one point, I just shrugged and mumbled ‘same ol’, same ol’ and went about my business. The guy’s lies had the unexpected affect on me of just NOT paying attention anymore. I became enured to Trump. Habituated. And, in that way, accepting. And, in that way too, he just dug a bit deeper into the collective psyche.

More succinctly put: the errors and even the lies are not as vulnerable-making as the ambivalence, boredom and fatigue it all generates. The real evil is apathy and that is what fake news (whether it is extreme like Putin or ‘normal’ like CBC and friends). It’s all like a disease, really. It is hard to stay healthy and engaged when you finally conclude that you know nothing and and can do nothing. Apathy spreads. And, in that way, Putin and Trump win.

I have a lot of Chinese friends. I read some Asian news sources. I hear stuff, see the pictures, read the articles. Sometimes those stories concern me so I contact my friends. “Oh, Dave, do not worry. Mother China is great, doing a really good job. There is nothing of concern here. You are reading ‘westernized’ Asian news. They lie. It’s all good here.”

Which seems harmless enough….until they add: “It really ticks me off how the world hates China and the USA wants to go to war with us. Why would they want that? Why do gweilo hate Asian people? The Hong Kong Democracy movement was because of all US-based infiltrators.”

And so Chinese propaganda managed to make ‘irritation-with-the-west’ out of that student-led demonstration. They blamed the ‘Merican CIA. I dunno….maybe…but, honestly? To my mind that was a home-grown movement and blaming the CIA is a huge stretch. Sadly, the secondary effect is also there: “I never watch western news anymore. All anti-China lies!”

Apathy, disengagement……

And so it goes. So, what have I concluded? Basically the same as everyone else but as soon as I noticed that the secondary effect was affecting me, too, and that I was reading less and believing less, I realized that I was thinking less and falling victim a second time. I have to keep at it. I have to read everything I can. I need to talk and think about it. I want folks who live in other countries to tell me what they think (and what they are TOLD to think). To do otherwise is to set yourself up for the slaughter.

Yesterday Sal and I finished the interior of the little ‘overflow’ shed we built to accommodate the tools and materials that we don’t use very often. The @real workshop got too crowded and so ‘little shed’ was born.

Little shed is, well, little and only 8’x12′ with all the walls sporting shelves. It is, in effect, a closet. And, as anyone with any sense has guessed, it is already chock full and building another little shed is looming large in my plans. How dopey is that?

Part of the reason for keeping it small was the site chosen – just off the main deck. It could have been twice as large, I suppose, but this shed was undertaken when lumber prices were at historic highs and Sally’s willingness to assist was at an all-time low. Under such gloomy conditions, it seemed best to keep it small. But that was still dopey. Now it is small and full.

Bottom line: if you ever build a shed, build it three times larger than you think. Maybe four. The more stuff you do, the more stuff you have. The more stuff you have, the more room you need in which to store it. That is really quite a simple and straight forward concept that seems to keep eluding me. I will likely pass on without enough space in which to store my dead body.

Which reminds me….weirdly, ghoulishly, a macabre idea has recently slipped into my ‘little grey cells’……probably as a result of needing and building small sheds, I hope. I am thinking of building my own coffin. Calm down. It is not like there is a rush on it. I am still fine, thank you. But, I know that coffins cost a lot of money for basically glitzy crap-on-particle board. I think I can do as good a job as that done by Imperial Casket (the biggy in the wood-box business). OK, I can do it a few times until I get the hang of it (so to speak) and THEN I can do as good a job, I am sure. You know, save everyone having to shop later, kinda thing?

I was thinking about it the other day and wondering about the cost of materials and so I thought to make a smaller one first…..“Hey, Sal! Mind if I measure you up for a coffin?”

Really……I should have brought her along more slowly but, instead, I just blurted it out. I really wish I could describe the look she gave me. Sally’s willingness to assist me with anything plummeted to a deeper low. I may have to do this on my own. It did not help that I added as a retort to that ‘look’, “Hey! I already know how tall you are and I know how much you weigh. I was just thinking custom-fit, ya know?”

Given all that, it is much more sensible that I build my own first. There is likely more of a personal need now.

In my continuing effort to keep things light even on the eve of a possible THIRD WORLD WAR, I am going to do a ‘dog-and-puppy’ show for a paragraph or two. The next bit is about Gus and Daisy and then a bit about the GIANT DOOFUS we have as a prime minister. But first the dogs.

Gus and Daisy are now 15 weeks old. They are handful of fun, energy, poop and learning. Armfuls, actually. Gus is about 33 pounds and, by the time I finish this sentence, he could be 34. Daisy is lighter and a more ‘feminine’ 28 or 29 pounds but she is growing equally as fast. They are healthy and very, very good.

Both dogs know their names. They do not always do as you request but at least they look at you when called. It used to be that calling ‘Gus!’ would get two heads lifting, calling ‘Daisy’ would achieve the same results. They seemed to think they were either/or. But lately, only the dog called looks up. That’s progress. Sal says, “That’s a better response than I get from you!”

But puppydom is kinda getting to us. A bit. Sal does more work, of course, but I am the Alpha Male after all, and I relish the role of white, male privilege I enjoy over puppies and squirrels. Dogs still respect men. What a breath of fresh air! Mind you, respect does not translate into obedience but we are working on it.

At 9:00 pm when the dogs go one last time to empty their bladders, Sal’s usually effective efforts to get them off their cushions and outside into the icy North winds, often are met with resistance. They are sleepy and lumpy at that time. She’ll then pick one up and take it outside as it slumps heavily in her arms and then, when she turns to get the other, the first one instantly finds enough energy to run back into the house. Because of my immensity and generally grouchy demeanor, they just come when I take them. Last night was an easy walk-in-the-dark to the mossy backyard and they both came perfectly but, of course, did not pee. Like I said, respect doesn’t necessarily translate into obedience or results. Still, they are only 15 weeks old. They are doing very well.

And now to those not doing as well as our Bernedoodle pups. Our top Doofus, Trudeau, made a point of stating that ‘we cannot risk going to war with Russia’. Of course, he was referring to NATO going to war because Canada cannot risk going to war with the Maldives. We keep our submarines dry and our helicopters on the ground! We sink warships to make artificial reefs and we can’t seem to buy fighter planes despite shopping for something like 30 years.

And the stupid part is not that we do not want to get into WW3 – that part is smart. But, when you state your own limitations, your resolve to NOT engage, that only encourages an aggressor. The one thing Putin had to worry about was somehow drawing NATO into the fight but Trudeau, bless his drama-teacher heart, had to make it clear that Putin could have his way with any non-NATO country and we would all stand by. No wonder Sweden and Finland decided to immediately apply to NATO for membership. Trudeau just gave tacit permission for Putin’s aggression anywhere NOT NATO. What a dickhead!

And this is not just my take. Volodymyr Zelenskyy, the Ukrainian president voiced the same feelings. “If you (NATO) do not declare the air above Ukraine as a no-fly zone, you are, effectively, giving Putin permission to kill us!”

Bullies will be bullies. We all know that. And contrary to popular belief, bullies ain’t weak or cowardly. Bullies usually bring some ‘tough’ to the table. The only thing that deters bullies in the least is to present a possible resistance and a possible resistance that is ready to be implemented imminently. In other words, bullies measure the air, the vibes and, if they only see fear, they are emboldened. If they sense even possible resistance, they have some doubts. Doubts cause hesitation. Hesitation is rooted in fear, their fear. Put more simply, when facing a bully, surrendering-in-advance is not advised. Surrendering out loud, in public, in front of the bully is just plain stupid.

Ukraine will likely fall. And the world, NATO, the EU, USA, G-7 and FOX News and Facebook will talk. And talk and talk and talk. And maybe talking is all we can do. We have leaders like Trudeau, after all. But the bully will have been successful and the bully will be emboldened. We can expect to see the bully to show up again.

I am inclined to say a few words about the Russian invasion of Ukraine but, to be honest, I don’t have much to say. It is not a complex topic – Putin wants empire. Ukraine doesn’t want to be part of it. Bad vs good. Megalomaniac bullies against plucky homeland defenders. Classic human conflict. It’s so bloody weird, dysfunctional, evil and wrong that even the entire world sees it that way. Mind you, it is the Ukrainians actually fighting it but we all see it as they do.

We support them in the comment sections of YOU TUBE.

We are doing more, of course, but short of US cruise missiles, drones and Apache Attack helicopters it is a smidge too little. If ever there was a rock and a hard place for the American war machine, this is it. If they go in, they risk escalating the Ukrainian War to WW3. If the do not go in, they risk standing by while Russia does another Rwanda. Guys like me who have an opinion on everything kinda have to shut the hell up. The numbers are too big to opine lightly over.

And that is the one point that I was gonna try and make. War is different now. So is the reporting of it. It used to be intrepid reporters in the trenches with the soldiers. Then it became ’embedded’ reporters in the media tent of the armies. Then it resolved into the gaggle of reporters at the bar in the nearest American style hotel. And the cost of reporting went down until we all relied on AP and Reuters to deliver the story for larger distribution by way of affiliated news channels. Enter the Internet and trolls. We entered the era of ‘fake news’ not so much because it was ALL actually fake but rather because it was so packaged and edited and timed-to-the-max so as to make the most from advertising, it felt ‘not accurate’. The News sold out. The trolls stepped in.

And then along came Trump and he was easy and often perversely fun to cover and so an industry of trolls, pundits and beltway reporters was born. Talking heads opinionating and, basically, gossiping on air over every idiotic thing he and his cronies did made for good ratings, easy reporting and big profits. Happy days were here again.

But so was YOUTUBE. All of a sudden Joe Blow in Kokomo was instantly on the scene (probably of yet another black guy getting beaten and shot by the local police or something equally racist, sexist or stupid) with his phone and Joe Blow was televising that story on his own channel! Once again the news industry was facing a challenge – this time by the billions of amateurs with phones. Seemed like half were lying Russians. By the time the BIG MSM got the story through their piping system, JOE BLOW had 100,000 subscribers. ABC, NBC, even the NYT and WAPO were ‘old’ news – at least a few days late. The BIG news guys are only BIG in the BIG cities. Russian trolls seemed to fill the air of the ignorant masses.

And therein lies the point. The Ukrainian defense and the Russian attack is being reported by Joe Blowensky and his phone standing ‘live’ in front of his house showing tanks go by. This is a war being fought live and on the battle lines in front of the eyes of the world. This ‘news feed’ is filtered by Joe’s limitations but not edited so much. It feels more real. And the trolls are relatively quiet. (They are still putting up fake news using old news clips but their influence is diminished by the @REALJoeBlowensky.)

Putin didn’t expect that. He expected at the very least troll-fueled confusion. They say the first casualty of war is truth and he counted on that. That may no longer be the case. There must be close to 8 billion phones out there. Jus’ sayin’…..

PS…I had a thought after posting this blog and I hate myself for thinking like this but I have to say it. NOT assisting Ukraine might (probably) be construed by the USA as the best of both worlds. The US does not like or trust Russia under Putin (Trump and friends, of course, being the exception). But they couldn’t invade or even put in sanctions…until now. They like this turn of events. Plus they got some fancy new boats. But, if they assist Ukraine directly with missiles and troops, they risk a major pan-world conflagration with WW3. So, what is the next best? Well, the next best is the same that Putin wanted for them – civil war. The Ukrainian population conquered will always be in revolt. Ukraine vanquished will become resident revolutionaries. Russia will be disabled from inner turmoil. A crippled but alive and angry Ukraine serves America’s interests. I do not like thinking that way but Putin thought that way and acted on it by installing Trump. Biden may just be thinking ‘turnabout is fair play’.

Speaking of which…..

I purchased an electric winch from China. Not, perhaps, my best decision. The winch looks good. It’s strong, well-built and has a few bells and whistles that I like (remote control, etc.) and it will be much more powerful than my gas-powered winch once I get it installed. Had the winch been made in Canada, it would have been twice as much money. Of course, neither Canada nor the US makes this winch anyway. But the instructions are in Chinese and are, to me, indecipherable. Not a clue. So, I contacted my Mandarin-speaking guy and said, “If you can’t write up the instructions in English, could you at least tell me your wiring diagram and what the colours of your wires mean?” (My guy writes adequate Chinglish.)

By way of illustration: there is no logical place to attach the 12 gauge (3 wire) cable that is needed to carry the 240v 20 amp power from the genset to the motor. No holes in cases, no terminals, nothing. The plugs they sent are Asian plugs attached to 20 gauge wires (not power wires) and they also need cutting off and ‘our’ plugs put on. None of that should be a challenge but it is. I am somewhat electrically challenged despite muddling through for 18 years. So, I wrote back and good ol’ CSales10 (nice guy) in China responded with a nice picture showing where all the wires go……sadly…..it was of a different winch. Mine (the one he sold to me) is another model. And so the saga of dealing with Chinese industrial staff will slog on for awhile.

As one of our locals put it, “Well, at least they are not shooting at us and dropping bombs!”