creaturesall

creaturesall
Issue 20 Feb-Mar/2009

sharing the planet with our fellow creatures

 Famous wildlife artist Robert Bateman wants to see what you've created that has 2009 Contest Dates:
been inspired by nature. The 2009 Get to Know contest is all about getting out into Earth Day, April 22nd
nature and sharing with others the discoveries you have made.
to May 27th, 2009
Any Canadian 19 years of age or younger can enter. And if your piece of artwork,
writing or digital photography is chosen, you will receive prizes and have your work
Visit gettoknow.ca for entry information
published in the Robert Bateman 2010 International Year of Biodiversity Calendar.

The new Get to Know Interactive CD features “virtual hikes” which offer students
the opportunity to virtually explore parks and conservation areas in Toronto,
Edmonton, Calgary and Vancouver. During the hike, students meet and get to know
their wild neighbours of other species. Other elements of this dynamic, interactive
media resource include:

An exclusive Canadian collection of wildlife

videos and audio clips
Easy to use lesson plans focused around getting
out of doors
Videos featuring Robert Bateman speaking
directly to students and teachers
Interactive nature games and quizzes
Links to outstanding educational resources

Order your own copy from the Get to Know website!

Robert Bateman’s objective is not to replace real outdoor

experiences with indoor ones, but rather to familiarize
youth with local species as a catalyst for them to go
outdoors and experience the real thing.

The following school districts in Alberta have received the

Robert Bateman Get to Know Interactive CD:

Edmonton Area Red Deer Area

Edmonton Public School Board
Edmonton Catholic Schools
Elk Island Public Schools
Black Gold Regional School District
Parkland School Division
Greater St. Albert Catholic Schools
Sturgeon School Division
Aspen View Regional Division
St. Albert Protestant Schools
Elk Island Catholic Schools
Red Deer Public School District
Red Deer Catholic
Calgary Area
Calgary Board of Education
Calgary Catholic [Separate] School District
Rocky View School Division #41
Canadian Rockies Public Schools
Grasslands Public Schools

The distribution of the Interactive CD in Alberta is courtesy of the Alberta Conservation Association,
Alberta Lottery Fund, BP Canada, Shell Environmental Fund and TD Friends of the Environment Foundation.
*shipping/handling/taxes extra
 Issue 20 February-March/2009
Advertising & Promotion Inquiries
Christine (Cj) Perrin
cjperrin@creaturesall.com 403-648-1793
Graphic Design & Story Inquiries
Bob Fielder
publisher@creaturesall.com
Account Information
Linda Fielder
editor@creaturesall.com

In This Issue
Zippity Doo Dah – Kelly Dodge 8
Printing-Rhino Print Solutions-Calgary/Vancouver
Stock Photography-dreamstime.com
Mailing address: Fleeced – Keren Muthsam 16
creaturesall
P.O. Box 126,
Langdon, AB T0J 1X0
A Lizard-like Leap of Faith – CJ Mouser 19
403-512-9544
creaturesall is published 6 times per year (February,
Dog on the Run – Sheila Wirsch 24
April, June, August, October and December) by 1160613
ALBERTA LTD. and distributed freely in Alberta or via Hunting for Just the Write Words – Très Bore 29
subscription the first week of the publication month.
Advertisers and contributors assume responsibility and
liability for the accuracy of their claims and statements.
The opinions and views expressed in articles do not
Columns
necessarily reflect those of the Publisher or advertisers.
creaturesall reserves the right to refuse any advertising.
Written submissions become the property of
Wagging Tales – Dr Richard Weger - B.Sc., DVM 11
creaturesall on publication. By proferring your
photographs or written submission you grant us Creature Feature – Cyril Brass - photographer & writer 13
permission to reproduce it in creaturesall, other printed
media, on our web site or as a component of an online
download. All submissions will receive a reply if email
Taking Down the Fences – Dianne Wittner - A.I.W.C. 15
address is provided.
Writers & Cover Artists may make submissions by email to: Spaces and Species – Kristie Romanow - NCC 21
publisher@creaturesall.com
Copyright 2005 by 1160613 ALBERTA LTD.
Wingin’ It – Myrna Pearman - Ellis Bird Farm 23
Cover Artist
Kelly Dodge Youth Said It – Jessica Zutz - Snuggle Buddies 26
Canadian artist Kelly
Dodge regards her
inspirations and artistic
The Gardening Bug – Elaine Rude - Master Gardener 27
talent as gifts from God
and considers it a great Obsolete – cari-creatures by Sean Skerry 28
blessing to be surround-
ed by this natural world
of beauty and discovery. The Final Word – Clayton Kyle - Saying Goodbye 30
Each of her paintings
has something specific
to say, communicating
the essence of creation in simplicity and truth.
Primarily painting in pastel, Kelly is perhaps
Departments
best known for her ongoing focus on birds
often combined inspirationally with traditional
Publisher’s Note 5
Christian hymns. She has also garnered much
popularity with a second series, pastel paintings
portraying breathtaking views of the
Letters 7
constellations.
www.kellydodgeart.com In Passing 18
page3
MandaLeaf
D E S I G N SELECTED ITEMS AVAILABLE AT 2032 - 34TH AVENUE SW OR CONTACT carlapelkey@shaw.ca

C O M M I S S I O N E D A RT W O R K & P R I N T S • G R A P H I C D E S I G N S E R V I C E S • ( 4 0 3 ) 2 4 5 - 4 3 8 6

page4

I FIND MYSELF DOGLESS OF LATE.
After some 15 years of dogs about
the place, I now find myself dogless.
Doglessness, for me, carries with it
aimlessness, humorlessness, motiva-
tionlessness, not to mention an
accompanying overall disregard for
all the basic rules of proper English.
Not good for a publisher; not good
for me.
We recently lost both of our
dogs within 4 months of one another,
both to the vagaries of old age. They
were good company and saw in me
qualities I never truly possessed.
It’s not that we’ve never had
other critters about the place, we’ve
had cats too. Truth be told, I like
cats. Their total lack of concern
regarding whether I like them or not
is, paradoxically, what I like most
about them. But . . . a cat is no dog.
We also have three horses and
an equal number of goats scattered
about, all of which do their part to
brighten my day. But there’s just
something about a dog.
In the sorry event my English
skills have deteriorated to the point
that you are rendered unable to read
between the lines — I recently
decided to get another dog.
Although dogs have absolutely no
standards regarding who or what they
will sidle up to and pledge everlasting
allegiance, I have my criteria.
Firstly, I wanted a rescue dog. I
stop here to apologize to those of you
who have chosen to do otherwise
and have purchased your own $1500,
genetically engineered, Golden
Schitz-Poo, (which is itself in more
need of rescue than might at first be
thought.) For myself, I was looking
for a healthy, happy mutt. Secondly,
I wanted a young dog; not a puppy,
Advertiser and Story Submission Deadline for Next Issue – Mar 6th/09
PUBLISHER’S
NOTE
encouraging you to read, then write
Bob & Linda Fielder
but hopefully under a year. This,
based on the premise she would
already be housebroken and I would
therefore not need to contend with
surprise deposits of Schitz-Poo on
our living room rug.
Also, based on the fact that
everything I’ve learned about
patience I’ve learned from my wife, I
wanted a female pup.
I also wanted to be sure I would
be able to buy pet insurance for
whatever dog chose to share our
home. In order to do that, this young,
rescued, female newcomer would
need to have a clean bill of health.
Having made all of the afore-
mentioned conditions prerequisite to
getting another dog, we also decided
to put off looking until summer. We
had every intention of sticking to our
guns on every condition . . . until,
that is, we received the following
email from our loving and caring
niece just last week:
Hi Uncle Bob!
I wanted to send some information to
you and wondered if you were
interested. I have a volunteer that
works for me and she has a cinnamon
ital
www.wilvitalcanada.com
WilV
A Natural And Balanced
Daily Supplement
For Your Pet
Available soon at:
Fairplay Stores Ltd.
Paws Pet Food
403•264•8281
page5
colored, lab/german shepherd cross, 1
year old, fully trained pup that she needs
to find a home for. The dog is spayed
and has all of its shots up to date, is
kennel trained, comes with its kennel
and toys, has obedience classes and is a
rescue dog. Would you and Auntie Linda
be interested at all? The dog is FREE.
So, I ask you, what’s a fellow to do?
FREE notwithstanding, I think you, who
by now have most certainly discerned the
secret of reading between the lines,
already know what a fellow’s to do. The
pup arrives this week.
All that is now left to do, is choose
a suitable name. One can not be too
careful in this regard. I remember my
mom once saying you should never
settle on the name for a child or a pet
until you've yelled it out at the top of
your lungs from your doorstep on a
warm summer’s night. At the time, our
next door neighbor had a little boy
named ‘Dale’ and I remember hearing
his mom yelling for him at dinner time
from her front step one warm summer
evening . . .
DAAAAAAAA
A ALE!
DAAAAAAAAAAA AALE!!
and hearing my dad immediately
respond at the top of his lungs . . .
h
Daylig et come and
m wan’
go home!
M
Cometallister tallyman
y me b ana...
an ca
Pisces Pet Emporium
 WENDY PALMER artist
Limited Edition Giclée on canvas
art reproductions available at these
Fine Art Galleries:

Avenida Art Gallery

Calgary, Alberta
www.avenidagalleries.com

Art Country Canada

Bragg Creek, Alberta
www.artcountrycanada.com

Artists for Conservation

Supporting Nature through art
www.natureartists.com/wendy_palmer.asp

Prestige Fine Art & Framing

Okotoks, Alberta
www.prestigefineartframing.com

For more information on upcoming exhibitions please visit my website

www.wendypalmer-artist.com

Some of the sculptures I have

completed include pheasants, frogs,
dogs, cats, historic buildings, roses,
sunflowers, mushrooms and cat-tails.

All of my pieces are created from the

recycled hoods of cars and trucks. I
rework the heavy gauge metal using an
assortment of tools and techniques
which owe much to the now bygone
age when blacksmithing and hand-
craftsmanship were the only options
available. I do take orders for gift-giving
and keep an inventory of a variety of
sculptures on hand.
COUNTRY CREATIONS
Metal Sculptures
hnhdougan@shaw.ca

Harvey Dougan 403-934-3640

page6

Thank you for your return
phone call yesterday morning advis-
ing that back issues of creaturesall
are available!
Financial restraints make it
impossible to purchase all the copies
I need (Issue #1 to #14 and #16) at
one time. A very good family friend
introduced your excellent publication
to us with Issue #15 and advised she
had obtained it as a complimentary
copy from either Safeway or Sobeys
in Calgary.
It is such an excellent publica-
tion for the whole family! We
frequently care for our three grand-
daughters and with every issue we
now sit down together and read and
discuss every article that is age
appropriate. For myself, I enjoy the
exceptional art work, from cover to
cover, and especially the story
content. The Final Word by Susan
Sweetman in the 19th issue, has
been framed and the article proudly
displayed in our living room for vis-
iting family and friends alike to read.
Al Dahl
My friend and I pooled our
resources to give yet another friend
creaturesall as a birthday gift from
the two of us, beginning with issue
#20. Thanks for a great magazine
which we each enjoy thoroughly.
Please keep it coming. In tough
times it is a welcome light.
Linda Hoffman
Thanks for another wonderful
year of reading. Your publication just
gets better and better. The hopeful-
ness of creaturesall is a lovely
respite from so much of the negative
content in many magazines one picks
up. I'm sending for a renewal of my
dad's subscription and for my girl-
friend. Thanks.
Congrats on all you do.
Cathy Woiwod
paw prints and pen scratches
I do love your magazine!
Patty Axenroth
I'm in the process of issuing a
cheque to be sent out your way for a
subscription for Catherine Tudhope
in Calgary.
Dee Morita
Pacific Assistance Dogs Society
Well, I read Susan Sweetman’s
article, as best I could through tears
streaming down my face, starting
after making it through the first few
sentences.
What a story.
Carla Pelkey
I've enjoyed reading creaturesall
magazine for some time now, and
would be interested in submitting
articles. Could you send me informa-
tion on deadlines, word counts, etc?
Tim Battle
The Alberta SPCA
This subscription if a present for
my sister-in-law. Keep up the good
work. Alister Thomas
Still enjoying your magazine as
much as ever, so here's the money
to keep ‘em coming. We love the
magazine so much because it's one
of a kind. These days people are so
busy, so caught up in life; and your
wonderful articles remind us of the
beautiful life that surrounds us day
to day. There are still people out
there who appreciate it and people
who have the compassion to go out
of their way to help an animal friend
in need. Once again, thank you.
Malorie and Clayton
I'm very pleased to send in my
renewal for creaturesall - I don't
want to miss an issue. And I'd like to
get a second subscription as well.
Janna
page7
LETTERS
readers write
I saw an advertisement in the
current issue of creaturesall (issue
19, I believe) that simply said “call
for artists and writers”. I am very
much interested in submitting some
writing to your magazine, but I am
curious as to the sorts of things you
are looking for. What topics?
Fictional or non-fictional? What are
the length requirements? Or are
you merely looking for anything
that would fit into your magazine?
Thank you,
A. Rollo
I really like your magazine and
am considering submitting an
article. I just went to your website
to look for writer's guidelines and
found that the site is being
revamped. Can you email me your
guidelines in the meantime?
Many thanks,
Susan Wider
Hi, My name is Keith
Sandulak. I have a farm outside of
Alberta Beach just north west of
Edmonton. I was in Calgary this
weekend drawing cartoons for
some Christmas parties and had
the pleasure of seeing your
magazine while staying with my
cousins, Jan and Tom Lockhart. Jan
had suggested I email you and
introduce myself as an artist and
possible contributor with some of
my work. My wife shot this picture
this morning, which I thought
showed me in
good company.
Keep up with
your publication,
you're doing a
great job giving
voice to all the
animals.
Keith Sandulak
 ippity Doo Dah is a fledgling I
Z once had the pleasure of
assisting. Zippy's parents nest
each year in our bluebird box and are
among the many spring birds that come
for handouts to my back patio. Or
rather they are among the many that
have managed to train me to
drop everything, run out and
serve them whenever they
flutter at my back window.
I now joined the parents
I have an old suet cage
stapled to the outside of our
in a co-parenting venture
bluebird box. It functions as a
great predator guard, allowing the
bluebirds to easily come and go while
keeping them safe from dangerous
predators like cats, raccoons, squirrels
etc. The parents don't seem to mind it.
The day the babies fledged, this
particular one tried to fly out
backwards. The parents repeatedly
called to their young and appeared to
withhold feeding in an attempt to entice
them to leave their now cramped quar-
ters and join them in the real world.
This little guy was the last of his 4
siblings to fledge and somehow he
managed to get himself turned around.
Leaping out backwards he landed on
the lawn and did not have enough
strength to gain altitude. I picked him
up and returned him to the edge of the
box, this time facing the correct
direction. He still landed on the lawn.
He was quite tuckered out from having
made two failed attempts. He was also
in a very visible, not to mention
vulnerable open space on the lawn.
His parents continued to call to
him, attempting to entice him to a
safer location. Unable to comply on his
own steam, he allowed me to take him
to the bottom of the basswood tree that
his siblings were perched in. I figured
page8
he could just hop his way up through
the branches to join his brothers and
sisters. He promptly fell off the branch!
We repeated the attempt and he
promptly fell off a second time.
It turned out that Zippy's wings
weren't fully developed and to add to
his troubles, he was born with
a crippled hind toe not at all
conducive to balancing with
underdeveloped wings.
It was turned backwards
and folded under his front
toes, however I was sure that
once his wings strengthened he would
be able to compensate for his wobbly
foot.
I now joined the parents in a
co-parenting venture. Daily I would put
Zippy out in an old cockatiel cage from
which I had removed the lid. His
waiting parents would take the
mealworms down into the cage to feed
him. They would also bring him
grasshoppers, crickets, caterpillars and
other such delicacies. I would supple-
 Kelly Dodge
by
ment his diet in the house with mealworms when I was
unable to supervise him outside. I would also keep him in
during the night. Each morning his parents would greet us
and faithfully continued to feed him at intervals while he
perched on a branch in my old cockatiel cage. They would
alternate his feedings with those of his siblings who were
perched high in the trees around our home.
After a week Zippy's wings strengthened enough for
flight and balance. It was a privilege to escort Zippy to the
middle of the lawn where he successfully launched himself
into the stratosphere! It was a blessing to see him join his
parents and siblings in the sky.
I credit my mom with the idea for this concept. She
had co-parented 3 very young Baltimore Oriole nestlings
many years ago on the farm. When they were blown down
during a storm, she became worried about the farm cats
getting them, so she kept the nestlings in the house, taking
them out several times a day to perch in a low branch. The
parents continued to feed them at these intervals until they
had gained enough wing strength to successfully fledge.
The last time I saw my little bluebird friend he was
sitting on a hydro wire with his 4 brothers and sisters and
Mom and Dad. I bet you are wondering how I knew which
one was Zippy. Well, you see, when Zippy had an itch . . .
he would wobble just a bit as he scratched! ca

page9
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2005 • watercolor • 27” x 20” (available as full size archival print)

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page10

oud music filled the grand
L hall and I unconsciously
tapped my foot to the
strangely addictive beat of a two
decade old melody. I stood amongst a small group of my
colleagues from the veterinary hospital and we made the
chit chat that often accompanies large social gatherings. As
I looked around I could make out the familiar faces of both
current and past employees.
Although we were happy to see each other, the impetus
behind this collective was a sad and somber one. Today, one
of our own was stepping down. A local veterinary legend
was hanging up his stethoscope for good and journeying on
to other pastures. Dr. Stone, one of the originating partners
of the hospital had decided to finally retire. Abruptly, the
music was silenced and a hush born of sincere admiration
descended over the crowd. Dr. Stone stood proudly at the
podium and pondered the assembly that lay before him. He
began to speak of his humble beginnings and spoke with
tearful recollection of the many joys and sadness that he
experienced over his many years in veterinary practice.
While listening to Dr. Stone’s earnest speech my thoughts
drifted to how this great man had unknowingly placed me
on the path I follow today.
It began many years ago after I had returned from
University for spring break. In those days, I had followed the
more esoteric studies of genetics and was looking to
eventually get my PhD and spend my time doing research.
Though I was happy to see my human family, there was
a canine member of our clan that I missed terribly, my long-
time friend and companion Mitzy. Mitzy was a scrappy 15yr
old Pomeranian whose main distinguishing feature was her
long and hairy bat like wings. This small spark plug of a dog
had been our family’s first pet and we had happily enjoyed
her antics since the first day that she had adopted us as her
human caregivers. Arriving from school I burst into the
doorway and was greeted enthusiastically by my diminutive
friend and was immediately barraged with sloppy wet
kisses. Mitzy and I spent that evening sitting comfortably in
front of the living room fireplace enjoying our favorite past
time of watching movies and all was
right in the world.
The next morning I was
awakened brusquely from
page11
WAGGING TALES
stories from a veterinarian’s clinic
by Dr. Richard Weger, B.Sc., DVM
my slumber by my mother. “Something is wrong with
Mitzy,” she said in a trembling tone. Early that morning my
mother had gotten up to let Mitzy outside and had found her
laid out on her favorite pillow unable to move. Gathering my
dog in my arms, I and my family quickly rushed to the
emergency veterinary hospital located only a few blocks
away. Flying through the doorway and alerting the staff to
our situation we were quickly directed to an examination
room. The emergency doctor on staff was a gentleman who
introduced himself as Dr. Stone. He lifted Mitzy from my
arms with great care and gently examined her. After a time,
he explained to us in a soft manner that Mitzy had most
likely suffered a stroke and that the most humane thing was
to let her go. As I held my longest and best friend in my
arms, I looked into Dr. Stone’s eyes and I could see the
compassion that rested behind them. Although we had just
met I trusted this man and I knew that his words rang true.
After a brief discussion we decided as a family to let Mitzy
pass on. After the procedure was finished, Dr. Stone placed
his hand on my shoulder and with a soft smile said, “She is
at peace now.”
Prior to this event I had never lost anybody close to me.
I had lived in a state of denial where I believed that my
friends and family would always be there for me and that
they would live forever. The harsh reality of life crashed
down on me and woke me from my delusion. I began to sob
as I realized that I would never again see my friend. Later
that day, as I relived the day’s events over and over in
my mind, I found that I gained some comfort from
Dr. Stone’s words.
Shaking my head I returned my attention back to Dr.
Stone’s speech. After the testimonials I approached Dr.
Stone, shook his hand, and related to him how much he
would be missed both by staff and client alike. Although I
realized that he did not remember me from those many
years ago, he had left a lasting impression. His compassion
and empathy for others had instilled in me a great respect
for veterinarians, and led me to become one of them, and it
is for that gift I can never repay. ca
Dr. Richard Weger is a graduate of the Western College of
Veterinary Medicine, specializing in exotic veterinary
medicine. He is currently owned by his Senegal parrot, Tiko
and his cat, Mendel.
 memories made timeless
We welcome you to visit
the studio on our farm
near Cremona. Just a
Stop by our studio or visit: short, beautiful drive
www.dianeandersontymarc.com north of Calgary.
for some wonderfully unique
and surprisingly affordable
gift giving ideas.

Diane M. Anderson
www.dianeandersontymarc.com
tymarc@xplornet.com
403-637-2274 403-803-8039

page12

C olourful but
deadly, the
Eyelash Palm
Pit Viper is one of the most
dangerous of the venomous snakes in
Central America. It is also one of the
smallest snakes, rarely exceeding 75
cm (29.5 inches).
The most prominent features of
the Eyelash Palm Pit Viper are its
colourations, triangular shaped head,
and most of all, spiny scales positioned
above the eyes. These pit vipers get
their name from this distinctive patch of
upright pointed scales over each eye,
resembling eyelashes.
Unlike most snakes whose scales
are smooth, the Eyelash Palm Pit
Vipers possess rough and sharp
scales believed to protect themselves
against tree branches and to aid in
their camouflage against potential
predators. Their arboreal habitats
are situated in humid tropical regions
with dense lush foliage consisting of
shrubbery, vines, and trees not far
from permanent water sources like
swamps, streams or rivers
The wide array of colours like
red, yellow, brown, green, tan, rust,
and various colour combinations
thereof, helps them blend into their
CREATURE FEATURE
the eyelash palm pit viper
surroundings. It is amazing that such
vibrantly coloured snakes can become
invisible amongst the jungle vegeta-
tion. I would guess that in all my treks
through tropical rainforests, I have
passed by several of these snakes
without spotting them in the thick
vegetation.
But I did see two of these deadly
creatures during a hike in the coastal
rainforests of Tortuguero National
Park, Costa Rica. The first one was
situated about a meter above the
ground. Grey-green in colour this pit
viper was clinging to the bark of a
towering tree and blending in with
the colours of the bark. Then just
several meters further along the trail,
the second pit viper, a golden yellow
colour, was spotted curled up on a
flat broad leaf right beside the walk-
ing trail. Cautiously I took a couple of
steps closer to the small motionless
snake which enabled me to see
clearly the distinctive ridges above
the eyes. Yes, that was an Eyelash
Palm Pit Viper. Slowly, I backed away.
When spotted, these snakes can
be seen resting on branches or broad
leaves sunning themselves until an
opportune time presents itself for a
meal. Appearing to be in a resting
page13
by Cyril Brass
position, they are paradoxically,
always in an ambush position and
ready to strike. Certain death lies
only a few meters away
Patiently they wait for potential
prey such as small rodents, frogs,
lizards and small birds to pass by
them. These vipers possess heat
sensitive organs or pits located on
either side of the head between the
eye and nostril which allows them to
identify the direction of potential
prey. This is of great value to a night
hunter. As most snakes are
nocturnal, the Eyelash Viper hunts
from late evening through the early
morning.
They attack prey quickly,
inject venom, wait for the
quick and inevitable death of
their victim and then swallow
it. Pit vipers have large hypo-
dermic needle-like fangs posi-
tioned in the upper jaw. Even
though they carry only a few
milligrams of venom, just one
drop of this potent venom is
extremely toxic to humans.
Possessing a prehensile
tail, these tree dwelling
predators are able to catch and
eat prey while suspending
midair from a branch.
Sometimes they wrap themselves
around colourful heliconia blooms
waiting for unsuspecting hummingbirds
searching for juicy nectar. What an
excellent ambush sight.
While hiking in the lush jungles,
tour guides stress to visitors not to
get too close to wild tropical flowers
like heliconias for that very reason.
The Eyelash Palm Pit Viper . . . a
colourful snake . . . a nocturnal
hunter . . . a deadly predator. ca
Cyril Brass is a Wildlife and Sports
Photographer living in Calgary.
www.cyrilbrass.com
403-999-1908
Illustrator & Fine Artist
Custom Christmas Card Designs, Pet Portraits and more! www.crystaldriedger.com

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page14

.K. Rowling got it right when she
J made an owl the symbolic bird
of magic. Twelve species of them
live in Alberta and each is magical
and awe-inspiring, even after
hundreds of encounters.
The very word ‘owl’ conjures up
images of huge yellow eyes and
mystical nights in the forest.
Alberta’s most successful bird of
prey, the Great Horned Owl is
familiar to most, an intimidating grey
ghost found everywhere in the
province. Then there is the magnifi-
cent Snowy Owl, largest of them all
with power enough to capture hares
outweighing them by fifty percent.
One of the least known, the tiny
Boreal Owl, has power of a different
sort. This speckled raptor is very
elusive and weighs about the same as
a robin, but for one young boy it had
the power to change his life.
It began with a subtle thump on a
living room window, the kind of soft
noise that wouldn’t attract much
notice. As luck would have it a boy
named Brian investigated the thump
and found a feathered bundle no
bigger than a softball huddled in the
snow next to the porch railing. Brian
watched for a time and noticed the
bird kept its eyes closed and seemed
unable to leave. Half an hour later,
when it hadn’t moved, he instinctively
felt something was wrong. Brian
brought the owl inside his house and
when it opened its eyes to look at
him, he was transfixed by the
piercing intensity of that gaze. Later,
he told us how he saw both courage
and fear in those eyes and how he
would never forget experiencing an
overwhelming feeling of urgency,
compelling him to take immediate
action.
It took some persistent effort for
Brian to track us down as he had no
idea there was such a thing as a
wildlife hospital. In full support of
TAKING DOWN THE FENCES
me and you and an owl named boo
by Dianne Wittner
their son’s ‘call to action’, Brian’s Like a will-o-the-wisp she
parents drove him and his precious
cargo to AIWC on a frigid Sunday
evening. The owl went into examina-
vanished into the night while Brian
and I stared at the inky forest hoping
to hear or see another sign of her. I
tion as I sat down with Brian to knew we wouldn’t but it didn’t
obtain the bird’s history and start the matter. Together, we imagined her
necessary paperwork. I identified the perched high in a tree staring down
tiny raptor and explained what would at us, absorbing her familiar
happen to her. surroundings and wishing the
It was not surprising the owl had annoying humans would leave.
suffered head trauma but her prognosis Eleven years later, Brian is in his
was good. In four days, she showed second year of university where he is
interest in flying again and in two studying conservation biology.
weeks she was ready to return to the Though I’d like to take credit for the
evergreen forest from which she had life path he chose, I think it has more
come. to do with the piercing eyes of a
Boreal Owls are named for the magical owl of the boreal forest. ca
habitat in which they live and Brian’s
home was in the heart of it. Since AIWC’s injured wildlife and wildlife
they are non-migratory, it was a safe control hotline is open 365 days a year,
bet the owl lived on or near Brian’s serving Calgary, Southern Alberta and
property. I met him there just as it the Northwest Territories. AIWC offers
was getting dark. Brian explained to education programs, and opportunities
me how he had been reading up on for members, volunteers and donors!
owls, particularly Boreal Owls, a Contact AIWC at 403-946-2361 or
species he had never even heard of online at www.aiwc.ca, and http://aiw-
before this encounter. cwildlifecontrol.ca.
“I doubt he’ll ever look at birds
the same,” Brian’s mother told me.
“In fact, I think that little owl has
changed all of us.” Her eyes misted a
bit but Brian beamed with pride at
what he had done.
Brian and I walked past the
house and into the forest, away from
the threat of windows and rambunc-
tious dogs. As darkness swallowed us
we had to work by the distant glow of
the yard light and the faint beam
emanating from Brian’s flashlight.
Surrounded by spruce, I lifted the owl
out of the box and gave her a moment
to get her bearings. I could feel her
heart thumping, undoubtedly
energized by fear and anticipation. It
would have been thrilling for Brian to
release her himself but his lack of
training could put her at risk of injury.
Brian was okay with that; her immi-
nent freedom was more important.
page15
fleeced
D
how the two bucks weren’t flystruck around the pizzle I do not
know. I have trouble with pizzle strike in my own bucks and
“ o
wethers, even with shearing every six months and crutching at
three months growth.
you want five goats?”
The five simple words that
started it all, and six months later,
sometimes I wish my answer would
have been ‘no’. But then again, had I
said no, I wouldn’t be telling you this
story now.
A fellow nurse that I really didn’t
know very well, apart from her first
name (and that’s not a hard thing to do
because it’s on her name tag), walked up to
me one winter day at the hospital.
‘Hey, you have goats. I have five angora
does, would you like them?’
Since this was a freebie deal, I agreed
and told her where my house was. She
offered to bring them out to me. A week
passed and I hadn’t heard from her, until one
day a car and trailer pulled up in my
driveway with five … goats doesn’t seem to
be the right description. Wooly mammoths,
perhaps?
Well, it was a funny little group of goats
indeed that I had taken in. Two of the does,
strangely enough, had urine all over their
faces and front legs. Digging through their
mohair, sure enough, there were ‘boy bits’
there. Of the five, only one was friendly and
wouldn’t stop following me around. She
looked ancient and I guessed her to be
page16
by Keren Muthsam
around 12 yrs old. The two boys, going by
their mouths, were 6 years old. The other
two girls were about 8 years old, as far as I
could tell. One seemed to have had a broken
leg some years ago and as a result had a
funny jumping gait.
Questioning the lady a little more, I
discovered the sad story that was their life
before arriving at my place. The five of
them had been living in a tiny backyard in
the middle of Wagga Wagga – the largest
inland city in New South Wales for those
that aren’t familiar with Australia. The fam-
ily had started off with one bottle baby –
the old girl who kept following me around.
They discovered that goats make really
good pets so they decided to breed her …
she had twin does, and a few years later
they bred her again and got twin bucks.
The buck kids they banded; however, when
I inspected the guys later after shearing, I
noticed one testicle had been missed on
both the guys, resulting in animals that
looked like bucks and had all the charming
habits that bucks have, but weren’t fertile.
As we know, five goats in a tiny backyard
get a little difficult to feed, and the
neighbours and council weren’t real pleased
about it either, which is why I ended up
being asked to take them in.
 The first thing to do was get some
condition on them, because they were
skin and bones and just had no fight in
them when I pulled them off the
trailer. So they went into a one acre
paddock with grass and weeds up to
their bellies, and they were very happy
goats. The devoured two mineral
blocks in the first day, and kept eating
them at a steady rate. It didn’t take
them long to knock down the grass in
that paddock.
About a month after I got them, I
decided it was probably time to do a bit
more work on them. They looked like
they had missed the last three shearings,
and how the two bucks weren’t flystruck
around the pizzle I do not know. I have
trouble with pizzle strike in my own
bucks and wethers, even with shearing
every six months and crutching at three
months growth. So it was high time they
got rid of their fleece.
Catching them for shearing was an
interesting story in itself. For about a
week I tried feeding them in an old
stock crate out in the paddock, hoping
that I could shut them in. No luck, they
were wise to me. In the end, I set up
some gates in the paddock and had a
couple of friends over and we tried to
chase them up into the gates. On the
third go round we were successful. I
was pleased to feel they now had some
meat and fat on their bones and that
they put up more of a struggle when I
handled them.
Shearing was an interesting affair.
Since I decided I didn’t want to subject
my regular shearer to them, I did
them myself with a good set of hand
shears. Now I am only 150cm and
50kg, not exactly the tallest, heaviest
or strongest person so it became a
battle of wits, with the goats biting,
kicking, screaming, flopping and me
sitting on top of the animal, happily
shearing away. You wouldn’t believe
me but honestly this is true — as I was
shearing one of them, the radio in the
shed started playing that old Aussie
song ‘Click go the shears’.
It took me a while but I finally
uncovered five reasonable looking
goats under all that hair. And this is
where the story ends for the two boys.
Since they only had one testicle each
they weren’t any use as breeding
bucks, and they were not friendly
enough to be rehomed as pets.
The story continues for the does,
though. The three girls remained on
my place for about a year, during
which I did a lot of work rehabilitating
them. The old girl, who I named Ellie,
didn’t need any work because she was
so friendly, but the other girls (Lucky
and Cheryl) had some pretty extensive
psychological issues from their
previous ‘home’. They were completely
petrified of small children and dogs –
leading me to believe they were chased
and harassed by both. It took a long
time before they were comfortable
around my young nephews and the
dogs. It also took them a while to
settle into ‘herd life’ – living with and
interacting with other goats was
something very new to them, and they
had to learn how to really ‘be a goat’.
They did calm down somewhat although
they will never be very friendly,
people-orientated goats. I just recently
sold them pregnant to a young man
just getting started in goats. This will
be a better situation for them as they
will have large spaces to roam; they
just weren’t completely suited to a
small acreage like mine.
Perhaps the best part of the story is
where good old Ellie has ended up.
Sweet old thing, she has gone to be a
page17
pampered pet and a pack goat near
Melbourne, Victoria’s capital city. She is
being spoiled rotten and has taken well
to her new job as a pack goat. Her new
owner sent me an email saying, “Did you
know she is house trained? She got into
the house one night, and she doesn’t pee
or poop in there; she opens the doors to
let herself in and out.” Now that’s a
story with a happy ending!
I hear from their new owners
every once in a while, and I know they
are being well looked after. At the
time, I thought that the hard work I
put into those goats wasn’t worth it,
and I should have said no at the start.
But now, I will admit, it has been a
very satisfying experience and I am
happy that I turned those goat’s lives
around. My doors and paddock gates
are still open to rescue goats. ca
Keren Muthsam a full time university
student based in Yerong Creek in NSW,
Australia, currently researching fleece
quality in sheep and fibre goats. She
also teaches local school students about
preparing livestock for shows along
with tending her own stud flock of
about 50 Angora, Boer and Dairy goats.

Kounterfeit
It is with great sadness that we
announce the passing of Kounterfeit,
our lovely four year old mare. When
Kounterfeit was born she resembled
neither her mother or father in color,
disposition, or stature; and that is how
she obtained her name. We, at first,
were not convinced that she was her
mother’s filly nor were the many guests
who came to visit her. She concerned us due to her tiny
stature and the fact that her legs were unable to propel her
forward. She on the other hand seemed less concerned,
and hopped backwards around her pen at great speed.
Kounterfeit’s quiet, curious, social nature was quickly
apparent; as a filly if you sat down in her field she would
come over and lie beside you waiting for you to stroke her.
She loved being around humans and we were never certain
that she was aware that she was a horse. She was always
one to come over to greet all guests; with or without
carrots; never acting indifferent to anyone. She looked
forward to coming into the barn, but was never quite sure
what to do once inside. She seemed to find fencing not to
be a restraint but rather an obstacle to be literally bent to
her desires. Her curiosity of new things caused her much
difficulty with the installation of electrical fencing – often
being the horse in the herd that received the jolt. She was
deeply loved by many, and she seemed to love in return –
especially her friends Jake and Bob. We loved her, were
touched by her, admired her, and now deeply miss her.
Good Bye Miss Kounterfeit.
Passed away: 10/09/08
Gus
Dear Gus,
We should have known that most
people, especially softies for dogs, do
not go “just looking at dogs.” There you
were a sweet, red, tiny peanut of a dog
that looked like a little deer lying placid-
ly in the forest. More accurately you
were sleeping in a pen at a pet store
ready to pounce on any unsuspecting
prey. Alas, we were enamoured, so the deer image fits.
With all the “oohs” and “aahs” expected in the presence of
a King, we walked away pondering the possibility. You had
begun to take root in our hearts and minds.
We should have known when we went back for a sec-
ond look a few days later that we were in trouble and going
page18
IN PASSING
celebrating the lives of animal friends
down fast. As we each took turns holding your sleepy,
squishy, royal body the magic spell was being cast for you
to take up permanent residence in our hearts.
We should have known when you snuggled up to our
bodies; slept on the beds, chairs or anywhere else you
chose that we were raising a King. We laughed at your
royal manner as you strutted around your domain.
We should have known when your obedience teacher
looked us in the eye and said “You’d better get a handle on
him or you are in for trouble,” that we had a force to be
reckoned with. You showed her what you thought as you
defiantly lifted your imperial leg on her pants and spent
the rest of the classes observing from the perimeter,
labeled as a trouble maker.
We should have known that people would laugh at
your bravado as you challenged anything and everything
with four legs. They did not know you as we did.
We should have known that you would balloon to 15
pounds because you were feeding the Big Dog that lived inside
you. It required great restraint on our part to not fill your
bowl when you would bark your command for more food.
We could not have known how many emotions that
you could evoke in us, from absolute delight to utter frus-
tration. All of this experience, emotion, creativity and dis-
cipline because a tiny peanut of a dog captured our hearts
We are most grateful we shared thirteen years of life with
you that we probably would not have if we had known the
ride we were in for.
We should have known that we would not want to
notice the years taking the shine off your eminence, your
waning ability to dictate as your eyes, ears and body failed
you. We knew that eventually the decision would have to
be made to help you from this life to the next. You were
not leaving without a fight and we held on to you as long
as we could. Thankfully you held court so all of us were
there to say goodbye together.
Please forgive us for our two new dogs but Hope,
your loyal minion, missed you terribly and our two new
family members needed a home. Take some consolation
in the fact that it required two larger dogs to help us
recover from one small dictator. You would approve of
them because they would not challenge your majestic
position.
Just one question, are you ruling your kingdom just as
well on the other side?
You are loved and greatly missed Gus! Drop by and
grace us with your presence sometime.
Passed away: 09/05/06

here are some people in
T this world for whom there
is no insignificant life.
Tammy, a dear friend of mine, is one of
those people.
Central Florida is crawling with
little lime-green lizards. They’re
everywhere. They get stepped on, run
over, and closed up in car doors. So,
when Tammy started telling me about
the lobby lizard, I laughed until I was
blue in the face.
“I told you ‘bout the lizard, didn’t
I?” she asked, in her thick Louisiana
accent. We were sitting outside the
motel she manages late one Saturday
night, talking, and solving all the
world’s problems.
“No.” I giggled, sensing a story.
“What lizard?”
“Well, there was this lizard, you
see, and he got himself locked in the
lobby of the office. I tried to catch him,
but he was too fast. He was in there 2
or 3 days and then I looked up one day
and there he was, stretched out on the
window sill.” She wrinkled her nose.
“He was all skinny and pale-looking ...
even for a lizard ... and I thought, now,
if I don’t feed him, he’s gonna die.”
“Tammy!”
“Well, you know,” she said and
shrugged, “the lizard had to eat.”
“What’d you do?”
“Well, I figured he might eat flies,
so I went out back with a little trashcan
and caught me a fly, slapped the lid on
the can and took it back to the lobby
and turned it loose. It worked out just
fine, because the fly flew straight at
that lizard, and I thought, he’s gonna
get it! Well, he jumped for it, but he
missed, and I said, ‘Dummy! That was
your one chance at salvation!’ But I
couldn’t really blame him because he
was weak, you know? He did his best.”
“So, what happened next?”
“Well I called the bait store and I
asked the man if they had any worms.
He said they had night crawlers, and I
told him I didn’t think they would
work. He asked me what I was trying
to feed. I said, ‘a lizard.’ He
recommended iguana food, but I told
him it wasn’t that kinda lizard.”
By now I was chuckling, picturing
this conversation in my mind.
“ ‘Don’t tell you’re tryin’ to feed
one of those little yard lizards,’ he said.
I finally admitted I was, and he wanted
to know what the lizard’s name was. I
tried to pretend like I hadn’t named
him, but the guy forced it out of me.”
“So, what was his name?” I asked.
“Leo!” she said, somewhat
defensively. “It suited him. Anyway, the
man told me that I might get him to eat
some maggots,” she said, and
shuddered. “So I went out to the
dumpster and I found some and put
‘em in a little bucket. I didn’t want to,
you know, but Leo had to eat. I took
‘em in there and I laid one out right in
front of Leo and he snatched it right
up. I was so happy! Leo finally had
something to eat, so I gave him
another one. Now, I didn’t know how
much lizards eat so I figgered that was
enough for the moment, and I found a
place out back to hide Leo’s food
bucket and went on with my day. Late
that afternoon, John, the owner came
page19
by CJ Mouser
in and said, ‘you
wouldn’t believe
what I found in a
bucket out back.’ “
I gasped. “He
found the bucket with Leo’s food?”
“Yes he did, and he threw it
away!”
“Oh no!”
“Oh, yes! So there poor Leo was
with nothing to eat again.”
I was laughing so hard by now I
couldn’t see straight.
“But see, God, he has a plan for
everything, you know? Even little ol’
lizards,” Tammy said with a certainty
born out of pure faith. “Later on that
day Leo decided on his own that he
was fed up with indoor life and when I
opened the door, he scooted right on
outside.”
“Thank goodness!” I said, as
happy for Tammy as I was for Leo, and
even weeks after the whole lobby
lizard incident Tammy was smiling with
a quiet satisfaction. Her mission, as
she saw it, was accomplished.
“God helps them that helps
themselves,” she said finally and
nodded, content that she had done her
best to keep this little lizard alive until
he set himself free.
Personally, I don’t know about
religion or reincarnation or the
secret of life, but if by chance I come
back some day as a lizard and find
myself trapped in a building, I
can only hope that Tammy finds
me and feeds me until I put myself
back on the right path. After all, for
some people there is no insignificant
life, and Tammy is one of those
people. ca
CJ Mouser is a freelance writer living
in Bradenton, Florida. She has written
for newspapers, magazines, and is in
the process of having two books
published. Visit her Web site at:
http://www.cjmouser.com.
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Please visit us at www.arf.ab.ca to view all of our wonderful dogs and
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page20

iding the air currents, the
R American White Pelican rises
to great heights soaring slowly
and gracefully. A majestic bird, the
American White Pelican is unmistak-
able even from far away with its white
coloring and distinctive long red bill.
Let me tell you about one American
White Pelican in particular, a bird I’ll
call Avery.
Avery is a juvenile American
White Pelican that lives on a reservoir
within the prairie region of Canada.
He will grow up to be a very large
white bird with a large red beak and
black patches on the underside of the
wings. His large bill also contains a
large throat sac used for food storage.
Avery comes from a family known
as the Pelicanidae, consisting of 8
different species of pelicans found
globally. The latin name (Pelecanus
erythrorhynchos) refers to the red bill
of the American White Pelican.
Historically, American White Pelicans
could be found throughout the interior
of North America but currently have
settled into approximately 50 colonies
found throughout Canada and another
18 colonies in the United States.
In Alberta, American White
Pelicans are found throughout all
regions where freshwater exists.
Pelicans nest on the ground on
islands of reservoirs or lakes,
marshes, and rivers. Typically
pelicans nest in the same spot
annually, unless drought conditions
and high predator populations
deem them unsuitable.
SPACES and SPECIES
by Kristie Romanow, Conservation Representative
Avery will migrate south to warm
coastal waters during early Fall and
arrive back in North America during
Spring. He feeds primarily on fish
including Northern Pike and Lake
Whitefish, amphibians such as Tiger
Salamanders and frogs, as well as
aquatic invertebrates. Brown Pelicans
often dive underwater to catch their
food; American White Pelicans like
Avery, though, are more buoyant, so
diving is not really an option. Instead,
Avery surrounds fish in shallow water,
scooping them into his pouch. Taking
in both water and fish, Avery then
holds his bill upright to drain out the
water before swallowing the food.
Because pesticides and other chemi-
cals often make their way into water
supplies, American White Pelican
populations declined where pesticide
use has been high. In Canada, the ban
of pesticide use, such as DDT, has
helped the populations to stabilize and
even increase. However, these toxins
are still used in other countries where
pelicans spend their winters.
Though Avery is still a juvenile,
before long, he will begin looking for a
mate. When both the males and
females are ready to breed, they can
be identified by a yellow crest on their
heads; their bill and pouch also change
from yellow to orange. Courtship
rituals typically include bowing,
strutting, pointing their bills
towards the sky and short
courtship flights. Upon pairing,
the male and female will
choose and defend their small
nesting area. Pelicans make
their nest in a mound of
page21
american white pelicans
dirt, pebbles, or sticks surrounding a
small hole where the eggs are laid.
Avery’s mate, like other female
pelicans, breeds in colonies between
April and June and lays 2 to 3 eggs
each year with the largest clutch size of
up to 6 eggs. The parents incubate the
eggs for up to 29 days before hatching.
One parent will incubate the eggs,
while the other feeds.
Habitat degradation and illegal
hunting of pelicans have been other
common reasons for the decline in
American White Pelican populations.
Management of pelican habitat, along
with other colonial nesting habitat is
critical for the survival of Avery and his
family. Habitat projects to develop and
maintain suitable nesting grounds,
public awareness and partnerships are
critical for the survival of Avery and his
family. Currently it is illegal to shoot an
American White Pelican or disturb
nests or eggs at anytime in Alberta.
Remember to watch out for Avery
and other colonial birds along freshwa-
ter lakes and rivers across Alberta. If
you see a nest or eggs, please do not
vandalize them. ca
The Nature Conservancy of Canada
(NCC) is dedicated to conserving
habitat for wildlife species like the
American White Pelican. It is our hope
that one day, wildlife like Avery and
other fascinating species will no longer
be at risk. Call 1-877-262-1253 or
visit alberta@natureconservancy.ca
to help conserve habitat for
these important
endangered species.
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susanne@lamorearts.com
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page22

was only 13 when, one warm April
I afternoon, Dad rushed into the
house to breathlessly exclaim that
he’d just seen a Mountain Bluebird.
This was the first one he’d ever seen
on our small farm north-east of
Rimbey. He was so excited about the
sighting that we all piled into the old
half ton and drove back out to the far
pasture to see it. I will never forget
seeing that first flash of iridescent
blue; it was breathtakingly beautiful.
That evening, Dad made a call to our
friend, Melvin Baumbach of Bentley,
who arrived a day or two later with an
armload of bluebird boxes. Mr.
Baumach kindly helped us set the
boxes out around the pasture and our
efforts were rewarded when a pair of
bluebirds took up immediate
residence. I was hooked on bluebirds,
and each year built and set out more
boxes around our farm. Our
neighbours were soon doing the same.
The bluebirds in the area responded to
this generous provision of nesting sites
and now, forty years later, are quite
common in the area. My childhood
interest also led me to Ellis Bird Farm,
where I have enjoyed a twenty-year
career as their biologist, monitoring a
bluebird trail of some 350 boxes,
sharing my love of bluebirds with
others, and helping to carry on
the legacy of Charlie Ellis who,
with his sister, Winnie, founded Ellis
Bird Farm.
So just what is it about bluebirds
that has captured our imagination?
Why have thousands of volunteers
across North America set out tens of
thousands of boxes for them? Why are
there dozens of organizations across
North America dedicated to the
conservation of bluebirds?
Firstly, bluebirds are—as everyone
discovers upon their first sighting—
beautiful. We live in a part of the world
dominated by bird species that tend to
be a bit on the drab side. By contrast,
bluebirds are shockingly bright and
shockingly blue. Complementing their
azure attire is an endearing
temperament; they are gentle in nature
and their soft warble is beautifully
soothing. So touched have humans been
by the bluebird that the Pima First
Nations people of the southern states
have a legend about how the bluebird
got its colour. Over the centuries,
dozens of songs and poems have been
penned in their honour, and one of the
greatest naturalists of all time, Henry
David Thoreau, aptly quipped that “the
bluebird carries the sky on its back.”
Secondly, bluebirds are harbingers
of spring; they are one of the first
species to arrive back from their
overwintering grounds in Texas and
New Mexico. In central Alberta, we
begin in mid-March to scout the byways
and back roads, hoping to catch a
glimpse of that first burst of blue. A
healthy competition to spot the first
page23
WINGIN’ IT
stories from the bird farm
by Myrna Pearman, Biologist & Site
Services Manager — Ellis Bird Farm Ltd.
bluebird of the season exists among
bluebirders in each province and state,
and word of first sightings spreads
quickly throughout the community.
Which brings me to my final point.
Bluebirds are the recipients of much
human care and attention because they
are one of the few wildlife species that
we, as average citizens, can help
directly, right on our own farms,
acreages and neighbourhoods. In the
wild, bluebirds nest in old woodpecker
cavities, holes in clay banks and other
natural holes. This penchant for cavities
means that they will readily accept bird
boxes. The expression bluebird trail is
used to describe when five or more
boxes are set out along a prescribed
route. Establishing a bluebird trail is a
activity that can be undertaken by
young and old alike, with no special
training or tools required. Not
surprisingly, bluebird trails have
become one of the most widespread
grassroots conservation movements in
North America. Dozens of regional
groups have been established and there
is even an international organization
dedicated to bluebirds, the North
American Bluebird Society (NABS). ca
If you would like to find out more about
how you can get involved, check out
www.ellisbirdfarm.ab.ca or
www.nabluebirdsociety.org.
Why not plan to start your own
bluebird trail this spring?
 by Sheila Wirsch

A
s we were leaving the Calgary Humane Society, we noticed a young couple
placing notices on every vehicle’s windshield, hoping to find their six-week old
puppy a new home. Desperately talking to everyone they saw, exhausted and
disappointed, they seemed about ready to give up. Then, seeing us, they quickly
made another appeal for a home for their puppy. Since, coincidently, we were
looking for a companion of our own, we listened intently to what they had to say
and took their name and number and told them we’d think about it and call them
the next morning. When morning arrived we called for more information,
arranging to see the puppy that afternoon. Shortly after, Nipper was brought into
our home.

page24
 The white diamond on her chest
enhanced her rich black coat while the
tips of her paws and tail were lightly
tinted with white. Standing straight up,
her tail wiggled loosely as she wobbled
unsteadily, looking for a spot to play or
do mischief. Sparkling eyes explored a
big new world until suddenly, she’d
tire, flop, then fall sleep.
We sensed something unique
about her.
Wanting to
constantly play, With the passing of time, we noticed her begin to slow
Nipper loved
her favorite bril-
liant red ball. I would try and trick her
by throwing other balls of other colors,
but she ignored them. Repeatedly I
would throw that ball, my arm crying
out in protest, until at last she’d tire and
lay down. However, five minutes later,
she would grab her ball and reposition
herself to play once more. I was left
dumfounded and exhausted from trying
to keep up with her.
Walking Nipper was enjoyable,
especially when we would pass through
the park close to where we live. A
chain-link fence barricades a busy, high
traffic street, while the residential side
contains a kids play area. An electrical
station stands at one end and a well-
treed area at the other. On our walks,
as Nipper and I approached the
station, she would excitedly position
herself into her running stance, totally
focusing, waiting for my command, not
moving a muscle. Upon hearing “O.K,”
she would quickly take off with lighten-
ing speed, rocks and dirt flying, grit
and dust finding its way into my mouth
and leaving me sputtering. Running
with rapid acceleration in her full out
stride along the fence, she would turn
swiftly at the trees, run like wildfire
part way back, turn again, and run like
the wind back towards the stand of
trees. After stopping to catch her
breath, she would bolt again in the
opposite direction. After a few slower
paced runs back and forth, puffing like
a steam engine, she would lope
towards me one final time, continuing
on by, exploring and winding through
the trees while keeping close eye con-
tact on me.
Every so often during these walks,
I’d notice people stopping to watch
Nipper run. I could see, like me, they
were awestruck, their mouths hanging
open as she ran. Eventually, walking up
to me, they’d ask how she was trained
to run like that. All I could answer was,
“no training – she trained herself.”
Their expressions of amazement
showed disbelief, as they’d shake their
heads. Nipper’s great passion for
running revealed itself as her life’s
ambition. In her own world, she ran as
a free spirit.
One time Nipper disappeared,
leaving us deeply worried as we
searched for her. Our hearts began
sinking as time passed and she was
nowhere in sight. Deciding to walk in
the direction of the park, we suddenly
noticed a moving black form. There
was Nipper, happy as a lark, running
back and forth along the fence-line.
She had taken herself for a run. We
didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or
discipline her. We were ecstatic to find
her and know she was unharmed.
page25
We came to class Nipper as an
environmentally friendly dog. Finding a
bone, she would carry it around and
when told to drop it, she would
absolutely refuse and head off in
another direction. When called back,
she wouldn’t listen.
One day I decided to follow her.
Going into neighboring properties,
disappearing into back yards, she
searched.
Upon finding
the perfect
spot and dig-
ging a hole,
she dropped in her bone and quickly
covered it up. Ritual complete, she
returned home with dried mud on
her nose, delighted at her
accomplishment.
Nipper enjoyed her runs and
continued to bury bones well on into
her later years. It became her ritual
and a vitality of life shone brightly
within her.
With the passing of time, we
noticed her begin to slow until
eventually she was no longer able to
continue her hard runs. But she
remained eager for her daily walks.
Always in a hurry, she would still
search for and bury any bones she
found.
The years started to take hold as
her age crept upwards. Nipper’s
walks became shorter and, approach-
ing 14 years of age, they gradually
ended as her health deteriorated.
Her soft whines expressed a pain that
was becoming more than she could
endure, and the cold of winter was
coming fast. With thoughts of deep
sadness we knew it was Nipper’s
time. Heartbroken, we decided to
end her pain and put her to rest.
Nipper was a beautiful dog that
loved life and she eagerly greeted
each new day with renewed energy.
The memories of her running and
burying bones f lood my mind
whenever I visit her park. Her
exuberance for life embraced all
those who knew her and I know her
spirit still runs free. I stand proudly,
watching her go.
Run, Nipper, Run! ca
 YOUTH SAID IT
by Jessica Zutz snuggle buddies
age 17

have loved animals from a very towels in our first month! The Snuggle Buddies Project is

I young age. I picked worms up

off the sidewalk and put them
on the grass. I voluntarily cleaned
something that every community in Alberta can participate
in. If we all work together we can make a difference in the
lives of every animal in every shelter in our province. You
stables at my friend’s farm. I took over our basement and truly are never too young to make a difference.
created a miniature veterinary clinic complete with a I think that animals are such special beings; they teach
surgery suite, brochures, and business cards. In my us so many things. They teach us to live life in the present,
younger years, I was turned away at animal shelters and enjoying every good thing that comes our way. They teach
veterinary clinics. They told me I was too young to help out. us patience, and compassion. They trust us to give them a
I waited in anticipation of the day I could start making a loving and safe home and in return are loyal and love us
difference by volunteering my time. I was not able to have unconditionally. Because of this I choose to care! ca
my own cat or dog when I was young – my father is allergic
to everything with fur. I had hamsters and fish that lived
very long and pampered lives and I got to occasionally take
care of my grandparents’ dogs, Taffy and Sparkle. Many a
wonderful vacation was spent playing with Taffy and
Sparkle up at the river. I cherished these times together.
Early on I realized that each animal is their own
distinct individual and should be treated with the kindness
and caring we as humans treat each other. I have known
since I was a young girl that I wanted to put my time and
talents into making the world a better place for animals. I
have chosen to become a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine.
This year was the year for me to make a difference in
the lives of animals in my community. I visited a local
animal shelter and noted that each animal is given a
comfort blanket or towel and a toy to call their very own. It
brought me joy to see that this small gesture lets the
animals know that they are loved and cared for. The
Snuggle Buddies Project was born. I created the Snuggle
Buddies Project to bring a bit of comfort and a lot of love
to the animals awaiting their new forever homes.
The Snuggle Buddies Project is a community-based
project that collects pre-loved blankets, towels and pet toys
from the public in Calgary and area and distributes them to
local animal shelters on a rotating basis. I organized the
first collection site at my school, and then began collecting
blankets at my church. After a generous donation of
containers by Great Western Containers I began asking
local businesses to host collection sites. After picking up the
blankets from the sites, I count, wash, tag and bundle them
all up nicely with a bow before distributing them to the
animal rescue societies. The first society we donated to was
the Rescue and Sanctuary for Threatened Animals
(RASTA) located in De Winton, Alberta. We were able to Jessica's story was a past winner in the Alberta SPCA's Essay
give RASTA a much needed gift. Contest. Their current contest hopes to identify and reward
The community has responded with great enthusiasm more ‘humane heroes’ like Jessica who are working to help
to the Snuggle Buddies Project. We have received animals in Alberta. To find out how you can nominate a
everything from blankets made just for animals to brand Humane Hero or tell your story,
new cat beds. We collected one hundred blankets and visit www.albertaspca.org ca

page26

he Earth
T awakens
from its
long winter’s
nap, shuddering to release itself from
the remains of winter’s icy grip. New
life stirs, gradually at first then with
increasing purpose: tree buds swell,
green shoots emerge, and ground
squirrels venture forth to bask in the
warmth of the sun’s rays. It’s Spring,
the time when all creatures heave a
collective sigh of relief knowing that
the Earth will once again be warm and
green.
Whitetails regularly frequent our
place in spring, sampling emerging
garden foliage and flowering bulbs.
Tulips have been banished as they are
considered a delicacy worth traveling
great distances for. As well, the
gnarled old willows on the property
bear testament to the annual spring
pruning they receive from ravenous
deer.
To make up for months of near
starvation their appetites are huge at
this time of year. This is especially true
of females who are preparing to fawn.
In harsh winters malnourished does
will reabsorb the fetus increasing their
own chances of survival.
The majority of fawns arrive in
June. Delivery is quick and almost
bloodless (an adaptive strategy to
avoid alerting predators)with twins
being common. Within the hour fawns
THE GARDENING BUG
the saga of the whitetail deer Pt2
are able to stand and nurse but do not
start traveling with their mothers for a
few weeks yet.
Only the strongest does survive
the winter to deliver guaranteeing
strong, vigourous fawns. For unknown
reasons, better nourished does have a
higher percentage of female fawns.
Female fawns are also more likely than
males to survive their first few weeks
of life.
Some years back my young son
and I were following a path through
the woods when we came across a
lovely spotted fawn tucked under a
large saskatoon bush. The fawn froze
seeking to become one with the
surrounding landscape. Refraining
from touching the little creature we
quietly crept away knowing that its
mother was hidden close by. Wildlife
rescue centers are inundated in spring
with fawns brought in by well-meaning
people who think they have been
abandoned.
Born scentless, newborn fawns
are more vulnerable to predation
when the mothers (who have a scent)
are present. Until able to travel,
newborns are hidden in the bush, the
does returning briefly throughout the
day to feed them.
Once the fawns are strong enough
to travel, individual family groups join
together spending the summer in small
herds. Bucks do not play any part in
fawn rearing preferring to spend
by Elaine Rude, Master Gardener
summers alone gaining strength for
the fall rut.
Educating the young ones begins
immediately with an introduction to
plants that are tasty(or not) and
where these can be found. Each herd
has its own territory and favourite
foods explaining why gardeners report
a mixed bag of plants being browsed.
Reports of deerproof plants should be
met with skepticism; it all depends on
what’s been tasted and deemed
acceptable. Most deer will refrain
from eating aromatic or fuzzy leaved
plants but when food becomes scarce
everything is fair game.
Each herd also has its own
hierarchy of favourite foods. At our
place it’s raspberries, roses and
lettuce (in that order). Deer adapt
readily so a revolving arsenal of
deterrents is required (the sooner
deterrents are utilized in the spring
the more effective they are). We have
employed almost all of them with
limited success: the motion activated
sprinkler kept them at bay for a while
until they discovered the water didn’t
go as far as the sensor was activated;
sprays worked well until the deer
learned they washed off after a rain.
We have had good luck with sprays
that are absorbed by the plants but
have to change them regularly as
eventually the deer become
accustomed to the smell or taste. A six
foot tall fence around the vegetable
garden has been the most effective but
five years after its installation, our
resident doe has discovered a couple
of spots where she can jump it. Much
to my chagrin she has been busy
passing this information on to all her
offspring!
As summer moves into autumn it
is imperative that the fawns eat
enough to ensure they grow rapidly
and gain weight. Only the biggest and
the strongest ones will make it to their
first birthday. ca
 Proud to support
creaturesall Elaine Rude
MASTER GARDENER
in sharing enriching
stories with
Alberta readers, Paintbrush
young and old! Garden
Mr. Len Webber , MLA
Member of the Legislative Assembly
Calgary-Foothills Constituency
Proudly representing the Calgary communities of:
Citadel • Edgemont • Hamptons Design
and
Hidden Valley • Kincora • Sherwood
403•288•4453 in the Alberta Legislature

Consulting

403.241.3688

www.Luv2Garden.ca

elaine@Luv2Garden.ca

˜@:IFJJIF8;EFNš— ˜@½ekgjjqkaj”la[c]lhja[]kYj]fgf£f]_gYlaYZd]—

page28
HUNTING FOR JUST THE WRITE WORDS
©

by Très Bore

I’ve eaten some critters in my time, I’m off to darkest Bolivia,

many not meant to be eaten. to bag some Spotted Bear Fleas.
Whatever I stalked, I always made sure I mash ‘em up and powder them
‘twas they, not I, would be beaten. to make rare
Spotted Flea
There was the Sudanese Butterfly, Cheese.
a boast I make somewhat coyly.
I made a salad from its right wing;
from the left, an ashtray doily.

China, I learned, was home to

a deer; exceedingly rare.
I hopped on my quad and hunted it down,
and now it’s my living room chair.

A swamp in Guam was home to a newt;

at least until I got there.
I found it sunning on a log.
‘nuff said, it’s no longer there.

The whole world has been my oyster.

Yes, I’ve hunted those too.
I tossed the pearls back in the sea.
All I wanted was oyster stew.

I traveled to Northern Canada,

home of the world’s last Whoop,
a bird on the edge on extinction,
from which I made Whoop Soup. Alas . . .

I’m of half a mind to call it quits. My hunting career’s over.

But before I do you know, As a poet I’m filled with despair.
there’s one last critter I need to bag. You see, I find it tough writing
One last place I need to go. from inside this Bolivian Bear.

page29
 THE FINAL WORD
saying goodbye
by Clayton Kyle

ust prior to her 16th birthday we

J
brown
laid to rest our beloved family
dog Murphy. Murphy was a light
and white American
Staffordshire Terrier and considered
the runt of the litter.
Your size never equaled the
unconditional love you displayed to
everyone you met. You always made
us smile and laugh. From the time
you came home as a puppy, with
oversized paws and ears, to the
day you had to move on, at no
point did we ever wonder
where your heart was.
Try as we did, obedi-
ence was never easy to
impose on Murphy.
Although the words
“Murphy Come” have
escaped my lips hun-
dreds, if not thousands,
of times, they often only
preceded a confused
head tilt followed by a
burst of speed and free
will in whatever opposite
direction the command
had been issued. Following
a frustrated sigh came the
long walk/run to gather her up
to return home. I know it was

.com
never fear that caused her to bolt

rt in
but rather a sense of pure freedom ma
gp

I’m sure she felt when surrounded by

tin

ey
nothing more than acres of flat land and
ar

ffr
M

o
Ge
owners with a soft spot for large doe eyes.
Either that or she thought it was fun to have us
:
by
ng
a inti
chase her for hours and hours….it was.
ur p
colo
Murphy was always full of energy. Although she tired in water

her later years, I believe that was only physical. I’m sure,
had her small body been able to keep up, on her last day
she would have happily romped through the snow banks
with whomever would join her. She was full of love. On a
bad day she could always make you smile. With uncontrol-
lable happiness she would greet us on the deck, spinning in
circles, ears laid down, tail between legs and tongue ready
to give unending kisses, she was always there for us.
Murphy, although you are no longer with us physically,
you will always be with us spiritually. You will never be
forgotten by those who love you. You’ve given us many truly
great and happy moments and memories. You’re energy
inspired us. You’re love gave us happiness and warmth. You
are my friend and will truly be missed. ca

page30
“Celebrating 88 years of doing business in Calgary”