You are here: You are here: Home > Cindy’s Blog > Cocker Spaniels in Your Life

I’d better do my disclaimer first concerning Cockers. I am sure if you own one, you love them.  I am sure if you “breed” them, you love them.  However there is another side of the breed and that concerns grooming them.  Pet grooming them is a lot of work and I will leave it at that.  I will give you my take from a groomer’s perspective.  It is not so much about grooming them, as a lesson in life I have learned concerning them and a word of advice from my Dad. 

 I owned Cherry’s Groomobile in the early 80’s,  Canada’s first  service that comes to your home and grooms your dog right in a custom van.  I enjoyed it and made darn good money for a young entrepreneur.  I filled up with water at my parents place and shared a cup of coffee every morning with them.   

My Dad knowing me all too well could see one day I was in a bad mood.  In a way that only Don Cherry can ask, “what’s up with you?”  I explained that somehow I had booked 3 cocker spaniels all in one day.  Unless you’re a groomer you have no idea how much work and aggravation this is. 

He then asked me if I had any other appointments that day.  Of course I did, a poodle, schnauzer and a westie, all easy regular customers.  That is when he strikes.  “you know Cindy, I know you pretty well, and you’re going to be in a bad mood all day, and those easy going dogs and customers, will also feel your irritability, and that’s just not fair.”  He was 100% right on.  Then he told me something that I still apply to everything.  “you had better get rid of those cocker spaniels in your life”.  And so I did.  I tripled their cost to be groomed. Since some of these thoroughly matted to the bone  dogs, got shaved bald ( yes, I said bald) once a year, there owners didn’t seem to care.  So in my head I was getting paid handsomely for my aggravation. 

But as I said, you can apply this philosophy to many things.  If something is constantly irritating you, like a particular person, job, or a plant that won’t bloom (inside joke) and it’s making you old before your time, ELIMINATE IT, you’ll feel better in the long run.

You are here: You are here: Home > Cindy’s Blog > Life is a bird bath

I always enjoyed eating lunch with my young son watching the birds in the winter utilizing our heated birdbath.  The Chickadees, two by two quenching their thirst, since all other water was frozen.  Downey Woodpeckers, Finches, Sparrows, Mourning Doves, all taking turns drinking and sometimes even taking a quick dip in the warm water.  When the beautiful pairs of Cardinals showed up, the day was made.   Then all of sudden the hordes of Starlings would come.  Eight to 10 in the water at a time.  Drinking, bathing, defecating, fighting amongst themselves.  Getting their strength in numbers and scaring all the “civilized” birds away.  I said to my son, “See Del, never be a Starling in life”.  He knew what I meant.

Then all of a sudden, down swoops a huge Blue Jay and scatters the hoards.  A smile comes to my face.  I then said, “Now that is what you want to be in life, a Blue Jay”.  And out of the mouth of babes, he says, “yeah, that’s Don”.  He got it.  

EPILOGUE: Though there is some controversy on whether winter heated bird bath are good for the birds, I personally believe they are more important for the health of the birds then birdfeeders. My theory is it’s hard for the birds to find water when it’s all frozen. So if you logically believe these are a good investment and want hours of enjoyment and help our feathered friends, here is a link of where I buy my Dad his perfect Father’s Day gift.

You are here: You are here: Home > Cindy’s Blog > The Sparrow in a Cage

I was about 6 or 7 years old, and I wanted a bird.  My Dad said I couldn’t have one.  He had many good reasons at the time, but none that a child would understand.  So if he wouldn’t give me one, I’d get my own.  I look back and I must say I was quite ingenious, I’d just catch one.  I saw in the garage there was an old wire birdcage. I took the bottom out of it, then got a popsicle stick and tied a string around it.  I then propped it up with the stick in our backyard.  When the bird came under it, I’d just pull the stick and I’d have my bird.  For days I spread breadcrumbs around for the sparrows to get used to it, and feed.  I slowly got the food closer and closer by the day to the cage, and before you know it they came under the cage. 

So the day came that I was going to pull the stick and trap my new pet.  I was so very excited that I did trap it, slid the bottom on, and couldn’t wait to show my Dad.  I didn’t know which I was more excited about, to get a bird or show my Dad he said no, and yet I got one on my own.  Needless to say, I was a tough kid to raise.  Knowing this, my Dad knew there was no point in telling me I couldn’t have it and let it go.  No…. he took another approach, one that he knew was less of an argument, and less tears.  All he said was, “well well look what you have there,  isn’t that nice, but I wonder how that bird will feel now that he can’t fly anymore and see his friends flying around in the trees, and he is stuck here amusing you.”  Well he sure took the wind out of my sails.  Now I really felt bad.  I kept the bird overnight, and let it go the next day.  Neither of us said a word to one another, and just let the whole incident pass. 

There have been a lot of poems, books, & sayings on why caged birds sing, but do they really know? I look back on when I did get a bird, mostly budgies.  They had a good life, for they got to spend time out of their cage. Then I look back at the canaries, and I must admit I do feel bad, but put that on the long list of things I feel bad about.

Thank goodness I had a Dad to teach me the difference.

You are here: You are here: Home > Cindy’s Blog > What not to say to a “Dog Rescuer”

I have now been around the world of dog rescuing people for a few years now.  They come from all walks of life.  Blue and white collar (the millennials don’t even know what that means), educated, street smart, wrong and right side of the tracks, city and rural types, but what do they all have in common?  Please do not say “their love of dogs”.

 If you ever want to tick off a dog rescuer, you say to them, “I don’t know how you do it, I love dogs just too much to do what you do”.  Nothing sets them off more than that!  People though love to proclaim their love of dogs.  I guess it comes what they think is in  their heart, and are well intended.  But remember folks, action speaks louder than words.  So what do they have in common?  One thread I have seen, is there determination in knowing the problems that they face will never go away.  

 I see the inside on what some people do to dogs, and sometimes innocently.  I think the non-logic in intelligent people, is more frustrating  than the goof who just don’t know any better.  So where is this blog going?  What is the point?  The point is this.  I know of myself, that I could never have the dedication, resilience, and gumption these dog rescuers have. 

Knowing that of myself, I find that maybe it’s taking the easy way out, but I will “assist” them.  That is why I started this Foundation.  Did I take the easy road? Perhaps, but at least it’s something., cause “I Love Dogs”.  Ooops.  

EPILOGUE: An article that best describes this type of dedication & the heartache it brings, is explained by Cindi Wigston in: “Rescue–Not For The Faint of Heart”

Rescue – Not For the Faint of Heart

You are here: You are here: Home > Cindy’s Blog > My Ahh Hah Moment of Becoming a Vegetarian

We all have our own personal reasons for becoming a Vegetarian.  Lets face it, it reduces heart disease, cancer problems, weight (supposedly), global warming, world hunger, & toxic food contaminants. The benefits are endless.   My turning point?  An incident on the 401 highway.

I always felt guilty for years on not becoming one.  Not for the reasons mentioned above, but morally.  It was about the animals.  Sure,  I didn’t eat veal, but really? I knew I was a hypocrite.  So there I am east bound on the 401 from Kingston to Toronto.   On a hot sunny beautiful afternoon I could see 4 transports in a row ahead of me.  I am hoping they’re not full of pigs going to slaughter.

But as I get closer I can see their little snouts sticking out, trying to get fresh air.  I boot it to get past them, saying to myself, “do not look, and do not look”.  I look.  I just have to get by these trucks.  Then the lead truck pulls into the fast lane and blocks me in.  I am trapped there for at least 2 miles. My mind is a whirl thinking of the fate of those pigs.  I had always said white pinky Bull Terriers remind me of little pigs. 

So much so, that when Blue ran away at the cottage my mother in her rage, went past all the cottagers sitting on their porches, and said, “did you see a little pig run by” and they all said “ yes, she went that way.”  Go figure. 

As cliché as this sounds, in my disclaimer as all people say, I am not a religious  person.  But somehow when you really want something, you pray to God.   So I made a pack with him.  If He gets this truck to pull over, I will never eat meat again.  Was there any doubt? The truck pulls over, I floor it, and away I go.

I haven’t eaten meat since.  

EPILOGUE: For more info on the state of non-vegetarianism in Canada for this year, click here, and check out the “animal clock”.