The one about names…

I have always loved coming up with names for things, mainly toys and pets (I’m not crazy enough to name my boobs, I think naming your body parts sort of proves to everyone you’re maybe a bit crazy).
Anyway, I recently created and Excel-file with a bunch of sheets – “Ben & Jerry’s”, “Christmas”, “Tea”, “Cocktails”, and “Coldplay” to name a few, and the sheets each have corresponding “names” in them. And the names are colour coded pink (for girls), blue (for boys), and purple (unisex names 😛 ).

Yes, I have started planning out dog names! Not nicknames, but official names. Basically, I have set myself on the path of becoming a breeder… “Why?” you may ask (very good question, ten points to you!), I honestly don’t know.

I’ve grown up surrounded by a bunch of dogs, my mum has bred Charlies for a very long time, I have attended dog shows since before I can remember… I guess the dog world is just engraved into my very being…

I have also come up with a few kennel names (!!!), but I won’t give those away 😉 The only “problem” I have at the moment is in order to apply for a kennel name I would have to go through a “breeders’ training”-thing organised by the Finnish Kennel Union (information about breeding, laws, duties, responsibilities etc. etc. ) and when applying for the name itself I would have to inform them of which breed(s) I’m interested in breeding… but I just want to reserve a kennel name for myself “just in case, if and when I decide to dedicate myself to this at some point, that point not being now”… *sigh*

Also, perhaps beside the point, I have so many names there is no way I’ll ever be able to breed this many dogs 😛 oops..

/jz

The one about a dog…

… but not just any dog. The best, most amazing dog.

Ganda, our lovely Tibetan mastiff, passed away this morning at the honorable age of 14 years (1.4.2003-6.7.2017). I’m not going to sugarcoat it – I’m shattered. When I say she was the best, most amazing dog, I mean it. She was pure gold.

These 14 years hold a lot of memories – some of them good, some of them bad, some of them happy, and some of them sad. When I say I grew up with this dog it’s not in a dramatic, Hollywood-movie-like way, but in an honest, “this is life”-kind of way.

I was 7 (turning 8) when Ganda came to us, and I’m 21 (turning 22) when the time came for her to leave. I really did grow up with this dog. She witnessed my careless childhood years, my awkward teenage years, my stressful and excited high school years, and the beginning of my “adult” life as a university student. Through the years she has always been an unchanging, unfailing rock, and I believe she’ll continue to watch over me from behind the clouds. No matter if I was happy or sad I could count on this dog to always be there, never judging, always understanding – an honorable, admirable trait.

She was certainly not your average happy-go-lucky dog with a wagging tail and huge smile (I could probably count all the times her tail has wagged using one hand). That isn’t to say she didn’t cause trouble – stopping the traffic on our street, killing the “dog proof” kitchen gates, eating my sweets and chocolates, “reading” books, the list goes on.

However, when it came down to it, she relied on her instincts more than “I wonder what the humans want me to do”. Barking at the tractor spreading manure on the field across from our house because “That’s my field… I can see it, therefore it is my field… now it smells like cow poop…”, digging under the deck (and exposing the foundations of the house) because “I’m from Tibet… close to China… going to dig my way to China…”, not caring less about small, floppy eared dogs who came to the house, but “Big dog (or small)… pointy ears… must make sure this does not get near the house”, laying in the snow for hours on end because “Look like bear… bears hibernate in winter… must lay in snow until it covers me completely”, the list goes on.

To anyone who hasn’t had the privilege of being unconditionally loved by an animal – I’m sorry. And to anyone who has had the privilege of being unconditionally loved by an animal – I’m sorry. Why? Because the pain of letting them go is something beyond the power of words, and anyone who has felt it knows exactly what I mean.

I guess all we, as nothing but tiny humans, can do is let the tears come, and rest knowing, or at least hoping, we will see our furry friends again in some other time. Until then we hold on to the precious memories ❤

//jz

The one about stones, scrubs… and nuts ;)

Last Thursday Mysse went into surgery to remove two urinary stones and two not-so-small nuts (yes, he has lost his balls for good). The people at the clinic were so lovely they allowed me into the OR to follow the surgery.
I was really worried about how the surgery would go, since Mysse isn’t exactly a young chap anymore, but to my relief everything went well and he’s now crashing into everything with his cone of shame.

Capture

I don’t know why putting on scrubs was such a big deal for me… I guess it somehow makes me feel like at the end of all this studying is a real world where I’ll get to make a difference? I don’t know, but it felt great 🙂 (Also, they’re really comfy!! How to tell you’ve chosen a great career; you get to wear comfy clothes all day, every day! 😀 )

//jz

Today was a good day

  • I passed biochemistry (got a D with minimal preparation and zero motivation)… (or well, I didn’t want to fail 😛 )
  • we took the dogs for a looong walk/outing along the river
    Eetu went swimming more than once, Aida didn’t run away (thank you meatballs and sausage for being a great motivator for dogs to come when called, no matter what), we made some doggy friends (doggies ran around together releasing some energy)…

What else does a day need?

Ah, also:

  • it didn’t rain!

Great day!!
(doggies are sleeping on the sofa, and I’ll head to bed early tonight)
…. (that moment when you celebrate by sleeping 😛 )

//jz