4 weeks, 2 days and counting.

Well, you can see the title...that is where I am at. To be honest with you, the time has gone by quite quickly and my spirits have been pretty good until today when I had a little meltdown.

I went to the Dr. yesterday and got my fiberglass cast cut off and was put into an air boot cast. I knew I was getting it, but was hoping that the Dr. would tell me to start bearing more and more weight every day and in a few days I would be rid of the crutches...no such luck. 20 lbs of weight is the allotment of weight I am allowed to bear, and for the duration of my cast time. I am not quite sure how that is supposed to work anyway...I mean how do you go from bearing 20 lbs of weight to no cast to full on walking?

The advantages of the air boot are as follows: you can take it off and sleep almost like a normal person, you can clean and shave the leg, and there is some weight I can bare (20 lbs allowed) so I can get around on my crutches a little quicker. However, overall the cast is much heavier, it takes a bit of time to put it on and take it off and when it is off, it is just another thing to carry around. *sigh* only two weeks to go.

The last 4 weeks have been a learning experience, a workout, but mostly just a lot of frustration. I have gotten the bathing down to a science and it has become quite comfortable. In the morning I pack my backpack with my clothes for the day and everything I might need so I can minimize the number of trips up and down the stairs. Once I am out of the bath I stuff my pj's in there and tote it around until I go back down stairs for the night. It has proven to be a pretty good system so far.

I seriously never thought being on crutches would have been as difficult as it is. I mean, the leg itself isn't much of a problem, but the knee has been the issue, so as soon as that started to feel better, the 'crutching' around has become less stressful because the knocks and bangs aren't as painful. Regardless, you just can't carry a thing and getting up and off the couch to go to the bathroom is a bit of an undertaking. The palm of my hands are constantly sore, I have two huge callouses on them and the one on the right hand is now peeling. I am now starting to feel numbness in some of my fingers as a result of the constant pressure on my hands. The first few 'steps' in the morning are always the worst and most painful for my hands.

Early on it was tough with Billy when he had the middle of the night diarreha return. It was within the first week and my knee was still really bad so just getting the blankets on and off was painful. Suddenly I had to do it about 5 times in one night in the middle of the night to try to get him out quickly so he wouldn't make a mess on the floor. The first trip or two we got out to the grass, but after that it seemed like he just couldn't get there so he did his business in the garage. My sister wasn't happy, but it was all I could do to even get him there. I felt bad.

That is another thing that you don't consider when you see someone 'crutching' around is their emotional state. Physically it is a disappointment and frustration, but emotionally it is as bad or worse. I am not used to having anyone around and having people do things for me. In fact, I have always felt kind of odd having people cater to me. In this state, it is basically a requirement so I am constantly feeling guilty or bad about having to ask for things and have people do things for me. Then there is the frustration factor about not being capable of doing the simple things quickly--everything just takes that much more time and I am about sick of it.

Taking care and managing Billy is another great source of frustration. He is doing pretty well with the house training, but he isn't perfect. If I was able bodied he would be near perfect because I would be able to take him out a lot more frequently. Fortunately he has a nice kennel to spend time with his cousin Tommy in and he is quite happy out there for a lot of the day. I do miss him though and I am really looking forward to working with him on the leash and taking him for walks again.

As far as the rehab has gone, I have been going to physio for a few weeks to a. get the range of motion back in my knee, and b. try to regain strength in my quad. It is amazing how quickly the muscles have atrophied. My leg is really skinny and feels as weak as t looks. Now that I have my cast off my calf is as skinny as can be as well. Because I have yet to have an MRI on my knee, we are still unclear as to the state of the ACL. The Dr. thinks it is a partial tear only and not severed which means no surgery. Until the diagnosis is made properly, the rehab has to be done under the pretense that the ACL IS in bad shape in order to not risk further injury if it isn't.

As of now I am just trying to wiggle and flex my right ankle as much as possible in order to get some range back. Being in the cast for 4 weeks has made my tendons and ligaments in my ankle sore and any movement is painful and difficult. It is better today than it was yesterday and if it continues to improve in similar increments, I will be in good shape in a few weeks.

Here are a few pix of my leg fresh out of the cast and about to get it's first shave in 4 weeks:

So far...so so...

I am a couple of days into this broken leg thing and this is what I have found so far:

-a new found respect for anyone who is/has been/or might be on crutches for any length of time. It is not only inconvenient, it is down right tiring! My left leg has always been borderline freakishly weaker than my right leg and now I am REALLY getting the first hand example of that. Not only does my left leg get a workout, but my right hip gets exhausted from holding my leg up and as stable as possible while hobbling around.

Also, just below the armpits has been rubbed nearly raw and I am hoping that I develop a callous soon. My entire upper body is getting a work out that I clearly wasn't matching at the gym. Pulling yourself up from a chair, toilet, bed, and yes the staircase, isn't easy and fatigue sets in. At the end of the day, I am ready for it to be nighttime.

-showering is the ultimate pain in the butt.

It is one thing to be tired from crutching around, but to have to hoist yourself into a small space, naked and without your crutches is borderline terrifing. My first shower on one leg was exhausting and I almost couldn't take it. Between the heat, the slipperiness of the soap and water and having to stand on one leg, it was all I could do to get dressed and throw myself back onto my bed for the next few hours.

I now have a little stool in the shower which makes it much easier. Bagging the leg to keep the cast dry is the ultimate pain though and I can't believe it is still necessary. We can send people to the moon, invent the internet and build cars that can run on corn resin but we can't come up with a casting material that we can get wet? Really? I know we are to keep the cotton dry otherwise it breaks down and basically disintegrates, but you are telling me that they can't put a rubber boarder around that sock that they put on your leg before they cast it?

-A person can carry very little when walking on crutches:

Sure, you can carry a backpack with your things in it, but what about a glass of water when you finally lurch off the couch and muster the energy to crutch your way back to the kitchen to finally get yourself that long over due glass of water? You mean to tell me that we have to either stand in the kitchen and drink your water or take your vicodin with you to the kitchen so you can take it? How do you carry the vicodin to the kitchen now? Getting the two in the same place is tricky. Get a bottle of water? Sure, but how big do you think my hands are? There is no way I can properly grip that bottle and my crutch at the same time. So now I have three choices: the backpack (which I left in the living room because...afterall who thinks about pulling on a backpack to go to the kitchen?), I can try to lob the bottle of water to the couch and hopefully it lands, AND STAYS, on the couch or I can toss the bottle on the ground and 'kick' it with my crutch like a small soccer ball all the way to the couch.

How come there aren't more accessories for crutches? A little bag of some sort that can attach to that middle 'V' section (just below where you put your hands) that will help you carry the odd thing like your cell phone, lip chap and possibly a small snack? Instead you have to ask for every little thing and get people all around you to bring you every little tiny thing that you might need.

Stairs=death trap:

Do I really need to say more? I have fallen going up stairs on a good day with two capable legs, now I am supposed to do these on one leg and count on my balance to hoist me 8" above where I just was without any real way to stop myself from falling? Yeah...Hi there...I just wiped out on a BIKE and my leg is broken! Clearly my balance and cat like reflexes on preventing a fall aren't where they used to be so do let me anywhere near a set of stairs with crutches.

I have resorted to going both up and down them on my butt and have just handed the crutches off or dragged them in my left hand.

Today I was having a nap with my legs up on a footrest and I was relaxing wonderfully in a sunbeam that was blazing through the window. I must have been a bit too relaxed when my casted leg slid off the footrest sending me into a fit of pain that was worse than what I felt when I went down. My knee twisted and all I could do was shout out in bawl out in pain. I am sure I scared my nieces half to death because as far as they were concerned, I was asleep. Man, that hurt beyond comprehension and it took the pain more than a few minutes to completely subside.

I wouldn't be so bad if that knee wasn't so sensitive, but man..any slight movement or bump the wrong way sends me straight through the roof.

Another thing: How anyone gets addicted to Vicodin is beyond me. That crap makes me feel naseaus as hell and I am not taking another tablet.

That didn't take long

I was joyfully riding my new mountain bike home, with my new clip in pedals, after a wonderful day of errands and breakfast when, SLAM!! down I went and my world changed for the next 6 weeks.

I was about to take a small, insignificant detour on the final stretch home when I went to cross a small stream of water in the gutter and onto the driveway of a fire station. The short cut may have cut of 20 seconds if that, so to say it was worth it would be false. The sprinklers are on here every day and the run-off is constant. Over time, algae builds up underneath and it becomes very slippery. Well, even a small stream of 3 inches wide can cause the front tire of a mountain bike out from beneath it before you can say 'what the eff?' Well, that is what happened to me...I went down and my bike went one way and my lower leg of my right leg went the other way and I felt excruciating pain from my knee and lower leg down. I took a quick look and saw that my ankle was facing the correct way before I crumpled into a heap on the burning hot pavement. Before too long a lady had stopped to see if I was okay and call 9-1-1. The ironic thing was, we were in the parking lot of a fire station, but nobody was there. In a few moments there were 3 or 4 people surrounding me asking me if they could do anything. The one thing I did ask for was for someone to put something underneath me so I could stop sizzling like a piece of bacon. They came up with a large piece of cardboard and I was thankful. Before too long the ambulance arrived and I was somewhat relieved but also very, very scared. I had never really hurt myself before and I didn't know what to expect, what could be wrong, and the fact that I am basically alone in the desert made it that much worse.

Before the ambulance got there, I was able to reach for my phone and call Hitch--of course, no answer as he was doing his radio show. I somehow gathered myself enough to send him a text that said: 'i think i broke my leg'. Within seconds the phone rang back and judging by my wailing, he knew I was serious. I handed the phone to a lady who Hitch asked to stay with me until the ambulance came to which she did. I was very thankful for that and I remember thanking everyone for stopping repeatedly.

The EMT's put me in a collar and onto a backboard as they took off my shoes and helmet. I was going so slow that I didn't even have any other scrapes or bruises--it was just one of those freak things that happen. The ride to the hospital room felt long and bumpy and every bump hurt and made me fear more and more pain would arise. We finally stopped and they pulled me out into the air-conditioning of the ER. Folks, it was nothing like what we see on TV--I didn't have people rushing to my side and people telling me it was going to be okay, quite the contrary. In fact, there were nurses and voices all around me, but nobody seemed to care that I was writhing in pain. I kept waiting for someone to come to my side with a comforting voice, but no one came. Finally I said: 'is anyone coming?' and the EMT said that they are just waiting to get a room for me. Finally someone came to take care of me and all I could think about was how alone I was, how cold I was becoming, and how long would it be before the pain subsided. The EMT had put a IV on me and I just wanted them to slip something in there that would put me into la-la land like I have always heard about.

Finally 'Heather' came over and spoke kindly and comforted me and told me that she was 'going to take good care of me' right before she forced my leg straight and made me literally yelp in pain. That hurt like a mo-fo. After removing me from the backboard and putting a warm blanket on me, they did slip something into my IV, but it wasn't all dreamy feeling like I wanted. Before too long, and several phone calls to Hitch and my family about the situation, the wheeled me into X-ray...another freezing room. After a few shots of both my knee and ankle I was wheeled back into my 'room' to wait. And wait, and wait. It was about an hour or more before Heather came back and informed me that I had a broken tibea and that I would need to see an Orthopedic specialist the next day. WHAT?? DO I NEED SURGERY? Is the first thing that I thought. When she told me that I was broken my heart sunk. I have never broken a bone before and now I was scared all over again. I know it isn't a big deal in the whole scheme of things, but it was a bit freaky to me and I was there all alone. Shortly thereafter 'Margarita' came and put a temporary splint on me which took less than 10 minutes. It looked like a big tensor bandage that came up and over the knee, but a lot heavier. My good friends Peter and Marcella Murphy came to pick me up and took me home--not before we stopped to get my Vicodin and Motrin perscription though.

Poor Billy had been home for about 8 hours by himself and the good little boy that he is, he never messed in the kitchen at all. Needless to say he was happy to see people and me, but wasn't sure about the crutches and funny cast! He went outside and went pee while Peter and Marcella made sure I was okay for the rest of the evening. Wow...a broken leg...my first (and hopefully my last) ever.

Thankfully my sister was able to get on a plane the next morning and was here by 2 pm in time to take me to my orothopedic appointment. I had been scared about it since I heard I had to go but having Tina there really helped sooth me...until I had to be the passenger in the car with her driving haha... She hasn't driven a standard in a while so it was a bit herky jerky, but she did just fine. Thank god she is here!

The diagnosis at the Orthopede was the best case scenario: no surgery--just casted. Unfortunately they had to 'set' me by putting my ankle at nearly 90 degrees which required some manipulation which = pain. It wasn't as bad as I thought it might be and I was likely more of a suck than I needed to be but...oh well.

Jessie wanted me to get a purple cast and Jaiden wanted me to get a pink one so I got a half and half cast for them. It is funky, but who cares--the kids like it. It was worth it to hear that when Jaiden found out over the phone that I got half and half her response was: 'sweeeeeeeet'.

I will post pictures as soon as possible.

Stump Jumpin'

I got a new mountain bike yesterday and boy, is it fun to ride one again. I have been wanting one for quite sometime so as to have another, more enjoyable form, of exercise. The last moutain bike I bought was around 1994 or '95 and have they changed. The bike I have now has hydrolic disc breaks which are basically exactly what you would have on your car. Front suspension is pretty much a staple on most mountain bikes these days and the shifting system has also been upgraded.

I took it for a quick spin yesterday afternoon and it felt great. Today Hitch drove to the gym and I rode my bike to meet him. It takes about 12-15 minutes to drive the car there so I had no idea how long it would take me to get there, or if I would even be able to complete the trip. I got there in 36 minutes, averaged 12.8 mph and the total journey was 7.77 miles (information courtesy of my handy dandy little handlebar computer that I purchased for 15.99). I really enjoyed riding a bike again and the workout was not excessive, but it was enough to where I felt like I had a workout.

I used to love riding my bike to work and school when I lived in Edmonton. I bought that bike on payments and I think it was about an $800 bike at the time: Bridgestone MB-4. The best memories I have of that bike were when I would ride it to work through the Edmonton River Valley which was great because it was all down hill. The best, however was the ride home after a long days' work on one of those hot august nights. Sure I was tired and mentally the big hill climb was the last thing I felt like doing, but once I got started on it, it turned into a great challenge and I often felt invigorated when I got to the top.

From there I would ride to my Whyte Avenue apartment(Whyte Ave was one of the 'hippest' places in edmonton at the time with a lot of shops, restaurants and pedestrian traffice--always a great hangout for university students) meet up with my friend Keely who also lived in that apartment and we would each buy a huge ice cream cone and sit on the curb to eat it while watching the people go by.

...it was that September when I had to start running...

Swine 'few'

I am thinking that the Swine Flu frenzy is more evidence of the media running amouk and creating something out of virtually nothing yet again. I swear I have no idea why I bother to pay attention to anything that is in the media anymore, based on my experience with the jackets, most of it is spun like a top or even flat out the opposite of reality.

The regular flu kills roughly 36 000 people a year every year, and now we have this Swine Flu that has killed 700 people world wide, and people are walking around with masks, schools are closing, and people have stopped going to work? Remember the S.A.R.S frenzy? It eventually killed 600 people in China yet the hysteria and paranoia over the virus was worldwide. Remember the meningitis scare from a few years before we started freaking out about SARS? Sure, these are dangerous, potentially deadly illnesses but the media latches their hooks into something and create a mania that need not exist.

Now they are saying that a Canadian farmer from my home province of Alberta had contracted the virus from a trip to mexico and gave it to his pigs! Oh brother...this poor guy in Alberta is going to be blamed for this phoney pandemic?

My favorite headline on the topic is this one:

Wild boars killed in Iraq over swine flu scare

Of course, they were in a zoo and they did it to calm some people's fears, but there is war and strife ongoing in Iraq and they put down some pigs because they are afraid of the flu? I would think that suicide bombers and the nutty war that is going on might be of greater concern.

Don't get me wrong, it is nice to know whatever is going on in the world, but take whatever is reported with a HUGE grain of salt. After all, it IS the other white meat.

Some sort of superhero?

I was talking to a lady who was playing (and when I say playing I mean standing and watching) her grand kids in the park. She was talking about how exhausted she was with just two grandchildren...then she spoke of the "Aqua-mom" and how she must be crazy---I am pretty sure she meant the 'Octo-mom'...

Desert Heat

Billy and I arrived back in the desert today. First off, I have to comment on how much Billy has grown...his once roomy kennel required some coaxing, laying down, and not much room to move for the little guy to reside during the trip. He could lay down comfortably and sit up with a hunch back. Last airplane ride I could fit him, three blankets and his two favorite toys in there and he STILL had plenty of room. He went from 7lbs to 14lbs during my stay in Columbus. He wasn't the only one to put on a few pounds...only I didn't get any taller...

Things look good around here except for the backyard and remaining milk I left in the fridge. Why in the world would I do that? Yuck. The backyard is like a jungle with an overgrown palm tree or two and the weeds sprouting from every possible opening. I might have to track down a few mexican's again to clear out the mess.

What I didn't realize about my day was that I am now about 150 miles from Swing flu central. I heard on the news today that they were closing a school down in Indio (only a few miles from here) for precautionary reasons. They are saying people need to wash their hands a lot more than normal and cough or sneeze into a sleeve. Hmmm, well, considering it is 90 F during the day, not many people are wearing sleeves. I guess I should go out and purchase some operating masks. I can prevent against the Swine Flu and not have to smell Billy's poop when I have to pick it up when we go for walks anymore.

That's that!

The jackets ended their first ever playoffs with a 4-0 win by the Detroit Red Wings. The first three games were won in a fairly convincing fashion but then came game 4. People who are reading this probably watched it, and those who didn't--well, they missed out. It was an electrifying game where the jackets over came two, two goal deficits to send the game into what appeared to be overtime when a linesman--what? yes, you heard me right, a LINESMAN made a too many men on the ice call at the 1:37 mark of the third period that led to the wings pp goal--the game winner.

Fans chucked debris on the ice, boo'd the wings, but in the end cheered appreciatively and loudly for the jackets effort that game, and season overall. It was a successful year and a great step for the growing franchise.

I will probably head back to the desert this week and get reorganized in my own day to day. Billy is getting so big that it won't be too long before he won't fit in his carry on kennel anymore so I have to get him back soon. The weather has turned nice here too so taking him out to the park is much more pleasing for me, but he gets panting quite quickly and I have to guard against him overheating once we get back to the desert. I think I will get him a kiddie pool to bask in once we get home.

Last night there was a dinner for the players, coaches and management at Mr. Mac's fancy golf course: Double Eagle. It was fun to be around the players and their significant others in that environment...Commodore is one funny dude. Looking around the room I couldn't help but to feel a bit saddened by the fact that the group as it was last night, will never be together again. It wasn't that they won anything, but they made history together--the first ever Jackets team to make the playoffs--that's something.

Choices

I got to thinking today about the word 'choice' and the different choices people make, or don't make, to get them where they are today.

There are things in your day to day that are clearly a choice like: white milk or chocolate milk? Chicken salad, or tuna fish? To take the stairs or the escalator?

There are also choices that we make that feel less distinct like: should I go to bed early or stay up late? These choices will directly affect your feeling, energy and productivity the next day. These choices are less vivid, but carry a great deal of significance in your day to day existence.

We then move into choices that don't feel like choices at all. Face it, when some dimwit cuts you off in traffic, it doesn't really feel like a 'choice' to flip them the bird and spew out a stream of obscenities at the top of your lungs while in the car, it just feels natural or the thing to do, right? Yes, how we feel and react are difficult choices to make, but choices nonetheless. Lots of times in pro sports, it is the people who are best at choosing the 'right way' to think are the ones who have repeated, consistent success. You can chose to be pissed about a result and dwell on it, or you can chose to accept it and move forward and spend your energy on making sure you correct it or it doesn't happen again.

Then there are what people view as choices, but aren't really choices at all. For example, I never chose play professional golf, it was just something that I was going to do. It was never a conscious thought, it was a childhood dream of mine to play on the LPGA tour and I took the necessary steps to get me to where I wanted to be. People don't choose where their passion lies, they just follow it and exercise it.

I hear lots of people talk about 'sacrifice' and 'giving things up' to follow their dreams. I never understood that kind of language. To me sacrifices are things that you give up that you don't want to give up. I never viewed anything that I did in my 10 years of playing professional golf as sacrifice. It was just what I wanted to do...I did whatever I needed to do to try to get to the next step. If that meant packing my car and heading out on the road for 6 months, that's what I did. If I had to sleep in my car, that is what I did. If I had to be away from all things familiar and hole up in a strangers house for a week, that is what I did. A true sacrifice would be to have done those those things without wanting to do them. There was never a choice involved, it was always just part of what I thought I had to do to get to where I wanted to be.

I am not sure, but I would think that there is probably a story in Greek Mythology about a character name Passionothos who always followed her heart because it was what made her feel fulfilled. It was never a choise that she made, it was just where she was directed by her internal makeup. At times Passionothos wasn't alway met with adventure that was pleasant, but she never had the option to bow out, it was never a choice, she felt passionate about what she was doing and moved forward. In the end, however, Passionothos always looked back on her life with a smile because without that passion that pushed aside any fears she may have had, she wouldn't be who she was today.

2-0

Well, I didn't really anticipate beating the wings, but I also didn't anticipate only scoring 1 goal in two games vs. one of the worst (statistically) goalies in the league. The wings have certainly flipped that proverbial switch once the playoffs started and look like they will not be denied. Not by us anyway.

Our roster has holes and it has had holes all season long, but game in and game out over the course of the regular season Hitch was masterful at devising a game plan that masked those holes. When you face an experienced and solid opponent like the Red Wings, it isn't long before they expose them and, with their skill, speed and tenacity, can make you look a bit silly.

There is no shame in what has gone on in the series so far. The wings have scored 6 of their 8 goals on the pp. This doesn't speak well for our pk, but this is a pp that was league's best all season long. Our pp has actually looked better this post season, but we haven't been able to convert. That is the difference, they convert on their chances, we didn't.

As it stands now, the first playoff game in the history of Nationwide arena is two nights away and we are all looking forward to blowing the lid off the place!

Making Friends

I have been taking Billy to the dog park pretty much every day so that he can get out and interact with all kinds of different breeds. Some nights there are close to 20 dogs of all shapes and sizes running around for him to sniff at. There have only been 3 instances where you see a dog's nose get out of joint and a bit of a disagreement hapens and yelping ensues.

Billy loves seeing all the dogs and sniffing when he can, but the problem is, he is usually the smallest dog there by far and he can't reach their butts to do any sniffing! It is always great when a little dog is there for Billy and it is interesting to see how different he is with the smaller dogs compared to the bigger dogs.

Below, you will see Billy carefully sniffing 'Percy' a big Saint Bernard:

Notice how meek and carefully he is approaching Percy.

He is a different 'act' when he sees dogs that are his own size. Have a look at his body language in these photos of him with three mini-pinchers:

Even though this min-pin is Billy's size, he isn't a puppy so the playing that Billy wanted to embark upon wasn't on his agenda. It looks like he is giving Billy a tune up, but they were just checking each other out.


He really liked these little guys, but they were more interested in sniffing the trunk of this tree. Oh well.

Yesterday Billy met Chloe, a little weiner dog who immediately took a liking to him. The two ran and played for about 30 minutes and when we got home, Billy was spent.

So cute.

Wow...what a year

I just got back from a nice walk with Billy and sat down in the quiet of the afternoon and started reflecting on the season. There have been many highs, lows, and down right sideways things that have happened with this team this year so to call it a roller-coaster is an understatement.

One of the great things about being close with the head coach is that you get an inside look at what goes into the day to day of all those wins, and how to dig a team out of a loss or two. I have learned so much about hockey and the dynamics of assembling 23 players into a group and helping them believe in the same goal, the same objective. As a close friend of the head coach, I have met a lot of great people in this hockey world and it has been such a treat to hear the odd story or two about their journey.

With all the great benefits of being so close to the situation there are times when it is not always a bed of roses. I am not only a supporter of my best buddy, but there is a streak of 'fan' in me and and emotional one at that. I really celebrate the wins and get totally pumped up after an energizing game. With as much intensity as I celebrate the wins, I feel the losses equally. I get a sickness in my stomach which follows me around until the next game.

Being close to the head coach it seems that there is no such thing as celebrating a win. It is 'collect the two points and move forward to the next game'. I understand that to a degree, but I need at least an hour or two to feel good about things. Don't get me wrong Hitch loves winning, but as he has said himself, the fear of losing is more powerful than the joy of winning. In professional sports, I get that.

Looking back on this season, I started to recall the key moments of the season where things were teetering on either moving into the right direction or on the verge of falling into that black hole and not being able to recover.

Goaltending: Pascal Leclaire had an excellent season last year, and nobody imagined our goaltending situation would transpire the way it did. The jackets used 5 goalies this year, and it is the rookie, Steve Mason who has proven himself worthy of the starting job and has been a huge reason we were able to clinch a spot in the post season. Overcoming knee surgery and a bout of mono, Mason will surely go onto win rookie of the year honours.

Mason's bout of mono was a very worrisome time as the jackets put themselves in a situation where they did not have a reliable backup to take the starts. Somehow we had Dan Lacosta, a guy who had mere minutes of NHL experience come in and beat the sharks in OT and shutout the Avalanche. Being around the coach during that time was difficult. Not only did I have my own worry to contend with, but I felt the worry of him and the quality of the remaining season was teetering and Hitch knew it.

Center: Finally it seemed as though the jackets had a center, who in a few more months, would be able to play on the top line with Nash. Derrick Brassard. In a game vs. Dallas, he was really starting to show some leadership qualities, but unfortunately his effort to stand up for his teammate cost him his season as he damaged his shoulder in a fight. He required surgery which was a 6 month rehab.

The worry of losing this player was real, and I felt it with every cell in my body. Being close to Hitch and the situation didn't give me any place to run and hide from the harsh reality of losing a great young skilled player. It was awful.

Then there were the season 'screw jobs'...the supposed high stick in Minnesota that was called a goal on the ice, was reviewed as inconclusive, but somehow the call was reversed anyway and 'no goal' was called with 11 seconds left. No goal-no points.

Then there was the extraordinary 'kicking motion' by Manny Malhotra in Dallas that cost the jackets another valuable point. It was my fear that we would miss the playoffs by one point making those screw jobs become center stage for me emotionally all over again.

The coach handles these kinds of things far better than I ever could as I ranted and raved to anyone who would listend and even called Gary Bettman on XM radio to let my dissatisfaction be heard....to no avail of course.

Make no mistake there were plenty of points that the jackets themselves left on the table--late losses to the Ducks, the Oilers, the Coyotes, the Wings come to mind. Those late game losses stung more than a regular loss because they are unexpected and you don't have any time to mentally/emotionally prepare for them.

Over the last few games when we have had the chance to clinch, I saw my usual determined, focused friend with a not so familiar look on his face. It was a look that I hadn't seen before. Concern? Focus? Determination? Stress? A combination of it all?

1 point away from clinching with three tough opponents on the schedule and I was sick with worry so I can't imagine what he was going through. The weight of an organization and the city on his shoulders. Normally I can ask him for some solace, but not at this point, he was as 'concerned' and focused as I had ever seen him. He was absolutely pouring everything into his team and doing everything he could to get them to where he needed them to be. My 'rock' didn't have anything to spare when I needed some reassurance...I was alone in this one.

Needless to say when we clinched last night everyone involved with the organization and every fan who has been around collectively exhaled. History was made last night for the jackets and I am happy and so proud that my best bud played a role and I had the chance to be a part of it.

I can't wait to see the team on Saturday and I can't wait to see the ovation they get. I started the regular season on opening night with them shedding tears of pride and joy for them, I am sure I will need extra kleenex for the boys Saturday night.

Congratulations Blue Jackets, you earned it.

Worth 1000 words

My New Gym Partner

Insomnia

Sleeping around here these days isn't coming in bulk. A few hours at a time is about all that happens when you have 90 points with three games left and 3 teams capable of taking your spot in the Stanley Cup playoffs.

The jackets are most certainly in charge of their own fate and are in the driver's seat, but until there is a little 'x' next the the Blue Jackets name in the standings, there is no rest for the weary. Hitch is definitely not one to sugar coat what needs to be done with his team, therefore, I am left to find solace in other places. Until the jackets are 'in' and playing better, the old coach's hair will continue to whiten and possibly even become clear like fishing line.

1 point here and 1 point there, they are inching towards their first ever playoff birth, but jeez, it is slow moving at this point. The last thing we need is for this thing to come down to the last game of the season vs. Minnesota. It is definitely the last thing I need anyway.

Billy? He is sleeping fine...he is in heaven actually. His bout of diarreha somehow graduated him from the crate to the bed and he hasn't looked back. He now cuddles up to me through the night and sleeps like like a teenager on the weekend.

3 more games and 3 points would guarantee us a spot, 1 point is likely all that is necessary, 2 would be fantastic, but 3 would be us putting a stamp on the season and getting that 'only franchise to have never made the post season' monkey off our backs.

Buddies

So Billy and I are watching the jackets game together tonight, both hoping for a victory. Billy was a bit nervous so I needed to distract hi by playing with him with his bear. We were on the floor roughhousing when FSN interviewed Hitch during the commercial. As soon as Hitch started talking Billy stopped everything, walked towards the tv and started wagging his tail. He was looking directly at Hitch and got all excited. I was pretty much awestruck and dumbfounded. I couldn't really believe what I was seeing! I just sat in the background and nearly wept.

The two are already good buddies. Billy was really proud to see his big bud on TV.

So cute.

I TOLD you

Remember when that plane crashed into the Hudson River in New York? Remember how relieved I was when Captain Sullenberger responded "No" to Katy Couric's question: Did you pray?

Well, unfortunately for those on board this Tunisian flight over Italy chose the route of 'pray' and cost 16 people their lives. I guess the idiot was in full on panic mode and decided to pray to Allah and Muhammed his prophet. Well it worked for him I guess, but he will now spend the next 10 years in jail on charges of manslaughter.

My question is this: what kind of man is this? Not only does he abandon any sense by flat out trying to pray, but then he doesn't even pray for everyone on board?

Now all he has left to pray for is that he doesn't drop the soap.

Nice Story

Since I have become a dog owner, I have been purusing a dog message board for hints, trips and the odd story. Just now I found a good one:

---

A Dog's Purpose?


Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.


I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.


As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.


The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker 's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.


The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.
Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, ''I know why.''


Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.


He said, ''People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?''
The Six-year-old continued, ''Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.''


Live simply.

Love generously.

Care deeply.

Speak kindly.

Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!
--------------

Nice, eh?

Taking the 'Canon' too seriously

Last night after the jackets 5-0 decisive victory over the Flames, I walked into the press conference room with Hitch where he whispered: 'After the conference you need to go straight home because we have had an incident'.

Great.

Hitch is very good at stirring me up and then leaving me hanging. It drives me crazy in fact and I have had many discussions with him regarding this very matter.

After the conference he took me aside and told me that they had received some anonymous calls (well, the guy must have forgot about that new fangled caller ID thing) that someone was going to take out Mason and blow up the building. Pretty serious stuff, really. Howson had taken Mason aside and informed him of the situation which, of course, sent worry through the poor kids' mind. He is a 20 year old rookie just trying to play hockey and start his career and now he is facing death threats?

It turns out it was nothing more than a drunken flames fan who was angry that his team was getting blown out. As each goal went in and every shot was stopped by Mason, he must have grown more irriated with the flames so he decided to take it out on Mason and the jackets. If you want to be mad for the flames losing, be mad at the flames!

The cops went to his house, arrested him, and charged him with a misdemeanor.

He was slightly intoxicated, and um, oh yeah...wearing a flames t-shirt.

You can tell he is a real hockey fan though...just look at that haircut.

$150 on the line

A friend of mine text(ed?) me today while she was getting her car serviced. She was excited about her new iphone and was practicing her texting skills on me. She did a fine job by the way. As we were conversing she told me how an old lady was sitting there eating a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and how starving she was.

I offered her $100 dollars to go and ask her for a hunk. I then upped the ante to $150. For me it would have been very high entertainment value and a great story for her and the old lady to tell. I mean the lady had a whole bucket of it as if she wouldn't have share with her. If someone asked me for something like that, I would without question offered up a piece. What kind of person would say no? Not many would in my opinion. It would be rather shocking to have a total stranger come up to you and ask, but if they did, their sheer courage and boldness should be rewarded don't you think?

It is something, however that I likely wouldn't do. I mean, what in the world is this women doing with an entire bucket of chicken? How old is it? Where have her dirty paws been and how many other dirty little clutchers have been in the bucket?

How is it though, that we will accept a bucket of chicken from people who are wearing a special little shirt and a visor so readily but would be reluctant to take it from and old lady in the waiting area of an Acura dealer? Just because they work there, they are no less strange than the lady chowing down in the middle of the day, really.

In the end the old bat fell into a saturated fat coma which provided the greatest opportunity to nap a hock, but my friend, she chickened out.

'High-Five' paying off

It was for nights like this one as to why I taught Billy 'high five'.

The jackets looked destined to be shut-out by a hard-working Florida Panthers team until the 17:14 mark of the 3rd period when Torres struck! 1-1 woohooo!!! Only two minutes to go in the third and we get a much needed point. I squaked and Billy jumped. He was alarmed but maintained his position next to me on the couch. "High-five Billy"...Billy looked at me and calmly placed his right paw onto my outstretched palm. Oh my god, irresistable.

Just over a minute later, Torres scores!!!!! I squaked again and Billy merely looked at me this time. He was now laying next to me. "High-five Billy". From his laying down position, he again, calmly put his right paw into my outstretched palm.

So cute.

English Please

Think back to how much our communication has changed in only the last 10 years. In 1999 I had my first ever cell phone--it was this huge 'Motorola' that had this flimsy antennae and these soft buttons that were hard to push. The cost of it was insane. 'Free minutes' were not invented yet.

We have progressed so rapidly in terms of cell phone technology, instant messaging, and text messaging it is quite astonishing. Since Al Gore invented the internet the stock on the word 'dot' has gone way up. Seriously, how often did you really use the word 'dot' before you had to say 'dot-com' about 10 times a day? Nobody really uses that expression: 'dot the 'i's' and cross the 't's' all that often do they? Other than that, 'dot' really never came up. Well, except my sister...she had a landlord named 'Dot' (her name was actually Dorkus but she went by 'Dot'--can you really blame her?) so my sister was very used to saying the word 'dot'.

Along with the the increased use of text messaging and instant messaging, people have created a new 'text language' to go along with it. How many times have you used the letters: 'tks' instead of writing out 'thanks', or 'u r' instead of writing out 'you are or are you'? What about 'ppl' instead of writing out 'people'. There are 1000's of abbreviations that can be used, but my question is this: why?

Are we really that lazy or too pressed for time, that we can't add the additional 3 or 4 letters? What are we really doing that we are too busy for this? Typically when I am texting someone I am bored to death doing nothing so I begin texting. I mean, texting in itself requires a very focused attention--small buttons, and you need both hands so I simply can't be doing anything else. Others who are using their blackberry's are the same--they are usually sitting on the bus or in a cab, or on route somewhere, so the additional letters are really going to put your schedule off? Pure sillyness if you ask me.

How did people function pre-cell phones? Forget about pre-cell phones, what about pre-answering machines? Remember when the phone would just ring and ring and ring with no voice mail picking up? Driving from place to place without any means of an emergency contact?

When you think back about how much phones have changed our lives in only the last 15 years it is remarkable. Is it a good thing that we are all connected all the time? I don't always answer my phone. Sometimes I just don't feel like being on it, but I have been around people when my phone is just ringing and it makes them very uncomfortable. Try it sometime...try just letting your phone ring while you are with other people and watch their reaction. Afterall, just because someone is phoning me it doesn't mean I am obliged to talk to them does it? It was their choice to call and talk to me, not the other way around. Why should I have to stop what I am doing agaist my will?

Don't be a prisoner to your phone and quit being lazy.

Season ticket holders you can live without.

My seats at the jackets game are about 3 rows above and just to the right of the visitors penalty box. There is a guy who is a ticket holder (he is there every game) who sits a few rows ahead of me. I have noted him only because I might end up killing him before the end of the season. Here's why:

I have no problem with people being disappointed in a players' play, it is fully understandable, however, when you are watching a jackets team that has, with 11 games remaining and already set at a franchise record in points, is it really necessary to be sarcastic and condescending after every mishap or goal against? The worst of it is the fact that he and his buddy yell cynical and snide remarks over several rows. I hate both of them. I guess people think that because they are ticket holders, they reserve the right to act as ignorant as they feel like it. They need to be reminded that they bought a seat to the game, not a share in the team.

The funny thing, however is how cocky people get when they are separated by a mere pane of glass. The idiot in front of me makes a 'come here' motion with his hand every time the opposing players are skating to serve their time. Yeah right. I had to laugh last week when 6'7" Zedeno Chara was heading to the box and the guy was motioning towards him all 'tough guy' like. Right. If that glass wasn't there and they were on the street, the fool would have been running the other way.

I also noticed the guy who sits right next to the penalty box barking at the players sitting in the box--Andrew Ladd, Brent Seabrook and Brian Campbell all got the brunt. I even noticed Seabrook barking back at the guy. The glass surrounding the penalty box is much higher than in the old days. Remember this:

Hooligans

The other night at the Penguins game, the ceremony that they held for Hitch was very nice. The building was loaded and Pat Burns' speech was very honest and heartwarming, just as you would expect.

The only thing that was infuriating was there was a pocket of Penguins 'fans' near the rafters chanting: "Let's go Pens" throughout the entire ceremony. There is no problem being boisterous and loud in an oppositions building, it adds to the atmosphere, but when you chant through a ceremony for a huge milestone in someone's career, it is flat out disgusting and disrespectful. Couple that with the fact that Pat Burns, a man dying of cancer, came all the way there to share in that milestone and you couldn't be more classless.

If you can't pay respect for such a milestone in the hockey world, you are no longer a fan, you are just a Hooligan in a NHL sweater.

Not many like this one

Tonight Hitch and I had dinner with Pat Burns and his wife, Lynne. They came into town to be present at the ceremony they are having for Hitch reaching his "500th win" milestone.

For those of you who don't know Pat Burns, he is one of the top coaches to ever coach in the NHL who, like Hitch, never played in the NHL. He coached 1019 games and has 501 wins, won the Jack Adams award three times (NHL's award for Best Head Coach) and won the Stanley Cup in 2003 with the New Jersey Devils.

Pat coached with and intensity and committment that only a handfull of people possess. Here is an example of Pat being 'into it':



The look in his eyes says it all. The coach of the other team looks like he is too scared to move.

I first met Pat this May when he was an assistant to Hitch at the World Championships in Halifax. I liked him immediately. He is a salt of the earth, no nonsense kind of guy. Pat, a former cop, had a very intimidating presence behind the bench and garnered immediate respect from his players and opposing coaches alike. Meeting Pat at breakfast that morning I saw the heart that this man had, and within minutes, felt like I had known him for years.

He is a guy who, like Hitch, is very open and forthcoming about every topic. I loved the passion he held for his story telling and sense of humor that went along with it. I also got a chance to see the 'other' side of him when he was dealing with a team services guy for Hockey Canada. He quizzed the guy relentlessly about a back up plan in case they lost (a game vs. at team that there was NO chance that Canada was going to lose). The guy wasn't sure if Pat was serious or not, but Pat maintained his stern look and inquisition forcing him to organize a contingency plan. Once the guy left the table, Pat giggled at the notion of losing, but also conceded the fact that 'hey, anything can happen'.

I am drawn to people who are 'real', which it is one of the reasons that I really appreciate Hitch. There is nothing pretentious about him and there is no 'show' in his being. Pat is cut from the same cloth and so is his wife Lynne. Both Pat and Lynne have good energy and it is energy I could see myself spending time with. There aren't too many I can say that about.

So tonight there will be a ceremony preceeding the Penguins game acknowledging the huge milestone that both of these men have accomplished. The 500 Club. Pat flew in from Florida to be a part of it and share this moment with his good friend Hitch. I am sure it will be an emotional night and an exciting night for everyone. The building is sold out and the team has just come off two huge wins and are now facing a red hot team with two superstars in Crosby and Malkin. I find myself wrought with emotion at your average game so this one is going to be especially energized for me. Why?

Well, I am so proud of Hitch for reaching this milestone and getting the recognition he deserves. I am also thrilled to see how far the team has come in only a few months--when I left here in January 14 000 in the building was a pretty good night for attendance. Now the place rarely has less than 17 000 and sell outs are becoming a theme.

I am excited to actually be present for such a ceremony, but more than anything I am delighted that Pat Burns could be here to share this moment with his good friend. You see, Pat is currently not coaching in the NHL because he has just been diagnosed with his third bout of cancer. It is in his lungs this time and his prognosis is not good. He is still on staff with the NJ Devils in a scouting capacity while living out and enjoying whatever time he has left.

I will definitely need some Kleenex for this one.

Big D for Little B

We made it to Dallas safe and sound, although late into the 2.5 hr. flight I could smell canine urine...again. It is quite confusing as to why he would do that since I know he can hold his bladder for much longer than that. A combination of fear and stress? Who knows, but it made me feel a little bit uncomfortable.

I took him out during my lay over and he was scared and still seemingly tired. I spent some time comforting him and had him curl up in my lap. I was actually a little worried that he was sick, or worse, I damaged him in some emotional way. I offered him his favorite filet mignon milk bone treat, but he just sniffed it and turned away. Normally he can't get enough of them so I knew he wasn't right. Finally I put him on the ground and made him activate his little legs, and before long, he was back to his old self...just in time to get crammed into his kennel for another 2 hour flight.

He promptly fell asleep on the final leg and we arrived to Hitch's greeting. I took him out and Hitch took him in his arms and it was love at first sight by both of them. Billy's little tail was wagging and he was licking all over Hitch's chin and face, and I saw Hitch sneak a little kiss on the top of Billy's head. It was adorable.

I had Billy on the ground and when Hitch went off to grab my bags, he already had a little shadow and Billy trotted after him. We got home and Billy was enjoying checking out his new pad and smelling all the smells. He was loving having a new place to run around in, but more than that, I think he likes having two humans to follow around.

This morning Hitch got up at around 5:30 and Billy was up so I scooped him into the bed with me. When Billy licks, he is tired, when he is all bitey, he is ready to play. This morning he was very licky and before long, he came and cuddled up between my arms and we both were completely sacked out for the next 4 hours. The travel took a lot out of both of us and we had a nice recovery day today.

All ended well.

First leg

Billy and I are sitting at the gate area getting ready to board our plane that stops in Dallas and then onto Columbus. So far he is getting aclimated to his new kennel and had a car ride from a crazy shuttle driver. I almost got car sick from his high speed turns, so I imagine Billy might have been the same. He was very good, however, calm and slept most of the trip.

He (well I mean me) got a bit nervous walking around the airport because of the motion with the kennel, but he was fine. I had to take him out of his kennel to walk through security with him and I noticed that he pee'd on his blanket and that freaked me out. Was he nervous and just pee'd or did he just have to pee and couldn't hold it? Maybe a bit of both, but regardless, he is sleeping now and I am glad for that.

The lady next to me asked me if he had a Xanax (or however you spell that drug), but he hasn't. He is handling the whole thing much better than I am...maybe I can find some of that at one of these airport stores.

I will try to post more from my stop in Dallas.

Canine Crime Scene

I had a haircut today at 11 am. I piled all of Billy's toys in his bed in the kitchen, gave him some fresh water, put a pee-pad down and closed him in with the baby gate. Our normal 'me leaving the house' routine.

I stopped at the grocery store en route post haircut (she did a nice job, by the way) and then headed home. Upon hitting the garage door opener, I noticed the garage going down, not up like is supposed to. Translation: I left the garage opened, again...I did a quick visual inventory check of all the golf gear I have free-standing in the wide open for everyone to see. It was all in place.

Worse than that however, is that the door that leads into the house is rarely locked. Why? Because the garage is supposed to be closed all the time! It is such a bad feeling to have left the door open for any extended time period, especially when I do it overnight (2x)...yuck.

Anyway, I went inside to check on my puppy and I wasn't expecting to see what I saw:

No, it wasn't the poo that was smeared into the tile floor, I knew that would be there. It wasn't the two pools of pee on the pee pad, he is good that way too. What I didn't expect to see was the baby gate crooked, the water bowl tipped over and no puppy. Immediately my heart sank and thoughts started racing through my head.

"Billy, Billy, come here my Billy boy". Nothing. No Billy.

What the heck? Did someone come in and steal my puppy? I then looked to my 50" plasma tv and noticed it was still there. I mean, if they were going to steal something, Billy would be nearly irresistible, but face it, you could snag the tv, sell it and buy 4 'Billy's'.

There were signs of a struggle--the gate crooked and the water dish tipped over. How did that happen? Then again, how much struggle would one need to put forth to scoop up a 7 pound puppy? It was a prototypical canine crime scene.

I could feel the fear and panic rise throughout my body and my calling became more frantic as I roamed throughout the house. I don't have a big house, but Billy is a little guy and could be anywhere. "Billy, Billy, come 'ere boy".

I then started to fear that he could have chewed a cord and gotten electrocuted. I was now half expecting to find his cute little body laying somewhere. "Billy, Billy, come on my Billa-boy".

Finally I heard the jingling of his name tag against his collar--it was more music to my ears than normal. Here comes the little guy from out of my room somewhere. I am not sure if he was in his kennel (wouldn't that have been cute?) or from under my bed or in my closet. Regardless of where he came from, I was so relieved to see him.

I clearly didn't secure the baby gate well enough. What can I say? This is my first crack at motherhood. I scooped him up and promptly started asking him about the adventure he had been on. He had clearly just woken up and was his normal, licky, cuddly self. Imagine that little guy with free reign over the house? After I calmed down I began scouring the house for any stray piles of poop or pee. Nada. He had left it all neatly in the kitchen for me.

I was actually quite happy to see that MOST of the poo was on the kitchen floor still. He has been eating his poo lately which isn't ideal on a good day, but especially lately because he has a few parasites that we are trying to combat.

I then did my usual scrubbing and mopping the floor routine. It was sparkling. Maybe that is why Billy eats his poo...you know the saying: my floor is clean enough you could eat off of it. He is taking that waaaaay too literally.

The day after

The trade deadline has come and gone and the jackets came out even on their goalies, ahead in their forward position and are down a 2nd rounder. The jackets traded oft-injured Pascal Leclaire and a 2nd rounder for Antoine Vermette of Ottawa, and they then traded a 4th rounder for a goalie prospect called Kevin Lalande who will play in their farm system.

I am ecstatic about adding Vermette. We desperately need another scoring threat up front, and the fact that he can win faceoffs and kill penalties is all the better. A friend of mine would lament on how well this guy could skate and I look forward to watching him.

As much as I wish we would have added an NHL capable backup and possibly another forward, I am content with Scott's acquisitions and look forward to the stretch run.

A week later

No, this isn't a post about Billy, directly but more about how my life has changed a week after getting him.

Since getting Billy, my life has changed in the following ways:

-I am typically up twice a night and up earlier in the morning:

Billy usually wakes up at about 3 am to go for a pee and then he is up at around 6 am. I don't mind this at all actually...probably because of where I live. Taking a puppy out to pee at 3 am in the dead of winter in Canada (or another cold climate) would suck in a big way, but here it is only a matter of slipping on a pair of sweats, sweatshirt and of course, a pair of socks. He goes promptly and I put him back to bed and we are both asleep within minutes.

-My kitchen floor has never been cleaner:

When I go to the golf course, I confine Billy to the kitchen because it is tile and if he relieves himself, it is easy to clean up. I put his bed in there, all of his chew toys his water and a little bit of food to occupy him and of course, his pee pads. When I come home, there is usually a few places where he has 'missed' the pee pad which require cleanup. Every day I get the mop and the Mr. Clean out and sanitize the area. I NEVER did that before I had Billy.

-I laugh and smile more:

This isn't to say that I was an unhappy person pre-Billy, but how can one NOT be amused, touch and entertained by a puppy who looks like this:


-Mentally I am more taxed/stimulated:

People talk all the time about how much 'work' a puppy is. In terms of the physical work of having one, it isn't that big of a deal, but mentally it is where you get the work out. I find I am constantly thinking about where he is, if he has pee'd/pooped and whether or not he needs to go out. He typically doesn't stray to far away from my side, but when he does, I am constantly tracking him to see what he is up to. Face it, nobody likes the idea of cleaning up dog poop from your rug. I also worry more about his well being and comfort. He doesn't like to be too far away from me, and when he is tired, I feel bad that he is up and down and feels the need to follow me around the house when I am doing laundry or something. I need to get over that. I really only relax when he is asleep. I feel like I also get a break because I know he won't be peeing in his sleep.

-Traveling considerations:

In the past, I would punch up travelocity and book the cheapest flight I could find. With Billy, I have to call the airline and make sure that they have room for a pet on board. Each airline has it's own pet policy and it is necessary to familiarize myself with those. We are taking our first trip together on Monday--I am sure it will be fine, but I imagine that will be blog-worthy.

-I have some structure in my day:

Pre-Billy I didn't have to worry about doing things in a timely fashion. Because he is a puppy, I don't want to leave him alone for too long so I just get things done quicker. Also, I miss him when I am gone and look forward to coming home to be with him.

-I get waaay more freshair:

I NEVER used to sit in my backyard. Now, I am out there every day hanging with Billy. He isn't a big fan of going outside by himself yet, so I usually go out and sit in the chair while he does his thing. In the morning I will take my computer out there and read all of my hockey articles while I sit with him. It gets me away from plopping on the couch and having the fresh morning air to breath in is energizing.

-I have played less xbox:

The only time I get a few games in online is when he is asleep or if he has just gone to the bathroom. I am just too concerned with his bowel movements to be fully engaged with the Blackout Kings at this moment. Don't worry, I will be back in full when he gains some independence.

-My hands and arms are all scratched up:

Yes, he is a puppy and has razor sharp teeth so it goes with the territory. It is no problem.

-There are toys and chewie things all over my house:

He is a little boy and needs things to play with. I don't mind at all. I like feeling like he relies on me and looks to me for leadership.

-No privacy:

Because he follows me everywhere I always have someone watching me shower and go to the bathroom. Nothing is cuter than seeing him lick the outside of the shower door. I have glass doors and to see his cute little mouth and tongue smush up against the glass is adorable!

-Financial

Of course there was the cost of buying him, but then there are the costs of dog food, toys, travel kennel, vet visits, etc. I knew this coming in and I don't mind one bit. He is worth every penny!

My life is different since Billy, but there is nothing that he has brought with him that isn't more than manageable. I just wish he would appreciate my singing more than he seems to.

Hypocrite

Do you remember the story about the lady in the yellow mercedes?

Well, the other day I was driving to my appointment in Palm Desert and what did I see? The same yellow mercedes coming out of the same place it turned into, and the same blond....on the cell phone.

It would have been great had she turned into my stream of traffic--oh man, talk about pointing out the hypocrisy!

I forgot all about this

A few weeks ago someone from the RCGA contacted me about a little online interview. Here is what came of it (check out the link--there is a picture of me on there and I actually like it, it looks like I am up to something):



Corina Kelepouris

Hometown:
Drayton Valley, Alberta

Birth Date:
5/31/1973

Birthplace:
Drayton Valley, Alberta

College:
University of Alberta

Degree:
Physical Education

The RCGA recently had the opportunity to catch up with Drayton Valley, Alta. native Corina Kelepouris as she prepared for the upcoming golf season. Here’s what the CN Canadian Women’s Tour veteran had to say.

Royal Canadian Golf Association (RCGA): What are your goals for the 2009 golf season?

Corina Kelepouris (CK): My goal is to get better. If I get better than I am right now, my results will take care of themselves.

RCGA: When you’re not golfing, what other activities do you do for fun?

CK: When I am not playing or practicing golf, I enjoy watching hockey. I grew up an Oilers fan, but am very good friends with Ken Hitchcock who is the head coach of the Columbus Blue Jackets so I am a huge jackets supporter. I am also a bit of a 'gamer' and spend time playing xbox. I like playing sports, in the off-season like ball hockey and a bit of ice hockey. I also like to read memoirs and books by Karl Pilkington and watch anything he is in.

RCGA: How long have you been playing golf and who introduced you to the sport?

CK: I have been playing golf for about 25 years. My mom bought my dad a set of clubs for Christmas one year and my sister and I went with them the first time and I hated it. We just walked around with them and thought it was as boring as it could be. After that I started going with my dad and then began playing with friends all throughout my youth.

RCGA: How will you prepare for the 2009 season?

CK: I will prepare for 2009 with my coach on and off over the next few months and get into better physical fitness for the season.

RCGA: Have you ever considered playing another sport besides golf professionally? Why?

CK: Not really, but I do think it would be fun to be a good hockey player. Playing in the ultimate team sport like hockey would be something totally different than being in an individual sport like golf.

RCGA: What’s on your iPod/Mp3 player?

CK: I have a wide variety on my iPod, Johnny Cash, Black Eyed Peas, Rolling Stones. Right now, I am enjoying Ricky Gervais’ podcast on my iPod. They are hilarious and well worth downloading.

RCGA: Before a tournament, do you do anything to calm your nerves?

CK: I tend to do a lot of visualizing and breathing. I stick to my routine and do everything I can to stay in the moment.

RCGA: When did you know that golf was something that you wanted pursue professionally?

CK: When I was 15 I started to win some golf tournaments. I remember doing a T.V. interview and stating that it was my dream to play on the LPGA Tour. I was having some success and turning pro seemed like the right step. I turned pro in May of '98 and have been at it ever since.

RCGA: To date, what has been your favourite golf tournament you’ve competed in?

CK: It is always fun to play in Canada and do well.

RCGA: Which LPGA tournaments do you hope to qualify for in the 2009 season?

CK: It is my goal to play in tournaments that feature the world’s best players. The CN Canadian Women’s Open and the U.S. Open would be two tournaments that fit into that category. I also keep a blog http://www.fairwaysanddreams.blogspot.com; It is just random observations or things that I have noted/experienced.

Another post about Billy...

Just kidding...

Okay, okay...I know, I have been slacking lately. It isn't because I haven't wanted to write, it is just that I have been consumed by raising Billy and I don't want every blog post to be about how cute he is and all the funny little things that he has done. I don't want to be one of those 'parents' who only talks about their kids and expects everyone else to think their kids are as cute/smart/funny as they do. You know the type...and if you are one of those, cut it out.

I will comment on how my friend started the dryer and didn't realize until about 5 minutes into the cycle, that her cat was in with the towels. Apparently she came out a little dizzy and very hot, but is fine. Thankfully someone got a 'feeling' that she might be in there and they were right...wow...poor cat, what a terrible way to die.

Oh, okay...let me tell you about this:

So about a week or so ago I was talking to this guy at my course who was getting new gear from the Titleist van. He was commenting on how his chipping was poor and joked that I might be able to help him. I don't profess to be a great teacher, but I can help someone with their chipping/pitching, no problem. Anyway, it was a brief conversation and that was that.

I then ran into him at the golf course two days ago. He was with his new irons at the range so I went and asked him how they were and started chatting the way only golfers can. His wife was hitting balls next to him with her ipod on, but I made sure to stop and say hello to her. Wives can be funny with the 'stay away from my man' looks and attitude sometimes, so I always make a point of trying to make them feel comfortable with my intentions (basically that there aren't any). Most of the time it works, but sometimes they have so many issues, they can't get past it. How can I tell? I can just feel it coming out of them.

Anyway, he started to hit a few pitches and I asked him if he wanted to know what I saw. He accepted and so I showed him a thing or two and immediately he was hitting it higher than he ever had before. I could see he was excited and he wanted to go to the chipping area to work on it. He was very appreciative and thanked me and headed off as I went back to my place on the range. I looked over and saw that he needed help, so I set off to give him a few tweaks. I walked past his wife and in a friendly, good-natured way, I said: "I am going to go help him out". Her response:

"I don't think he needs any. He has too much going on in his brain with it as it is so it might just confuse him"

I could see that she didn't want me talking to 'her man' so I said: "Ah, okay. I will just let him be then and work on my own stuff." What I felt like saying was: "ease up you dumb biotch, he DOES need my help and I am NOT interested in your idiot husband."

It has always been about the golf for me. When I was young I always hung out and played golf with guys because, well, none of my girl friends played golf. As I grew older, it was still about the golf. When I turned pro, it was especially about the golf. I don't play golf so I can meet men and be around guys. I meet guys because I play golf. If THEY think it is about anything other than the golf, they are mistaken.

Even at 35 years old it is still about the golf. I guess the issue is that the wives sometimes have a hard time understanding that because for them, often, it is about something else...the clothes, the social network, or putting on some kind of appearance and so it is RARELY about the golf. For them to comprehend that I actually just want to help their husbands' pitch the ball better makes their make-up crack and their hair go flat.

I went over and helped him anyway.

Birds' Eye View

Billy and I had some excitement tonight. As I was making dinner and he was eating his, a bird flew in the open door and promptly scared the crap right out of me.

There is a small ledge above the door that leads to the backyard that the birds seem to love. I guess it missed it's ledge and just came straight in. After my initial shock I began running through solutions as to how to get it out of my house. A pillow case? A bucket? A fishing net would have been the best, but needless to say, I don't have one of those. It flew back and forth from the living room to the kitchen several times before it perched itself on top of the cupboard. Great. It was now comfortable.

I know it isn't a bat (THANK GOD) so I felt like it might be attracted to the light. I turned off all the lights in the living room and kitchen and just left the light on in the back yard. It worked. Within seconds he found the door and flew out. Phew...In the interim I managed to text Hitch with my dilemma asking for his advice.

His advice--'open the window and play music'...WTF???

Stick to coaching hockey players and leave critter control to me, okay ;)

Our first night together

Billy and I had a very good first night. My plan is to crate train him so putting him in a little box without his brothers and sister's to cuddle up to was a big change for him.

He started whining initially, but it literally only lasted 5 minutes or less. I had put a warm pack in there for him to cuddle up with and before I knew it, he was out like a light. I am not sure what surprised e more, the fact that he was so quiet so quickly or that his crying didn't make me want to immediately take him out and cuddle him up. Instead, I stood strong and was willing to endure any amount of whining he could dish out. Maybe I have more dog whisperer in me than I thought.

I woke up around 4 am and he was still quiet. I half expected him to wake up and want to go for a pee in the night, but he didn't. It was me who was more anxious to have him wake up. I dozed until about 5 am when I heard him stirring. He was ready to get up so I took him out and cuddled him up. He was very happy to see me and feeling extra cuddly so I spent some time with him giving him some love. I was very aware that his little (or so I am learning, not so little) bladder was probably full so I took him outside for a pee. He was still pretty wired, but he eventually struck the pose and let it go. He pee'd on the cement slab which then ran into his back foot...I have to train him to pee on the rocky area surrounding the slab so it soaks in and doesn't get on him...I bet he hates that. After he pee'd I praised him like crazy again--I love it when his little ears go back and he gets all schnoogly.

We played with his ball and his little cow toy for awhile (so cute) and then spent some more time outside where he then went #2 (I know, right?). Shortly after he was pooped out and just wanted up. He curled up on my lap and started shivering as we were outside. We moved into the living room where he fell fast asleep. So far, he is everything I could have wanted.