Wednesday, 30 May 2012

Turkey Girl

Turkey girl was a beautiful Rooster, when the sun fell on his luxurious feathers he would simply shine. I have to say that it was always best to admire Turkey Girl at a distance, not for any aesthetic reasons, but because if you got to close he’d attack; and not in a, go away or I’ll chase you, way. But in a, when I catch you I’m gonna eat you, way. I’ll never forget that fateful day when Turkey Girl drew first blood.
In my defence, I have to say that he took me completely by surprise.  I had been cleaning the chook house, nattering away to the chooks and Turkey Girl, who were all hanging around to see if I had any treats for them, when suddenly Turkey Girl attacked.  He sunk his claws deep into my thighs then began to bite/peck my torso.  I have to say it hurt.  By the time I extracted myself from him I had some nasty scratches and multiple bruises.
Turkey Girl
 Turkey Girl developed a taste for human flesh after that, but the second time he attacked I was prepared, and I had my two German shepherds with me. I am embarrassed to say…we lost the fight. Turkey girl was one mean Rooster.

After these successful attacks, he started to stalk me, and any other human who entered his territory.  Sadly that territory was our entire garden. To try and put this into perspective, have you seen Jurassic Park? Remember the scene when the big guy was trying to get off the island with the stolen DNA?  Imagine how he felt when his car became stuck and he realised that he was being hunted by Velociraptors.  Well that’s how I felt every time I walked my back yard.
I have two acres of land and Turkey Girl, along with his harem, had the run of the place. I was sitting in the office one day when I looked out of the window to see Willow go running past, closely followed by Alba who was only 9 months old at the time, I remember thinking how sweet it was that they were playing together, but then I saw Turkey Girl hot on their heels. Again…I hang my head in shame.
I think Turkey Girl and my girls had a respectful love, hate relationship.  They would often come head to head, and as the girls learned to work together, the odds began to even, though I have to say Turkey Girl was often the victor. They were playing one day and I wish I had had a video camera.  Now Turkey girl always instigated the chase, he and the girls would circle each other warily until he decided whether or not they wanted a piece of his action that is…his hens. He would then lunge at whichever dog was nearest, and it was on.
Turkey Girl would attack and the girls would turn and run.  When there was enough distance between them, the girls would stop and then turn back to chase Turkey Girl.  He would run for a while, before realising his hens were watching, and not wanting to lose face, he’d stop, turn and chase the girls again.  They of course would again turn tail and run.  I kid you not; they did this over and over again.
This particular day though the girls were chasing Turkey Girl into a corner.  Realising there was no way out, he performed a jump up and over the girls that The Road Runner would have been proud of.  He landed several meters away from them and they then had to put the brakes on hard so as not to get sieved through the dog wire on the fence.
These games ended in one of two ways.  Turkey Girl, convinced that his hens were safe, would stop the chase or, the girls would pin Turkey Girl down on the ground until he conceded defeat. My girls are incredibly gentle and they never hurt him. When they convinced him that they had won this round, they would step back wait for him to stand up, shake himself down and wander back to his ladies. I know it sounds cruel, but there were never any injuries and as I said… Turkey Girl started it.
Nobody knows why Turkey Girl was the way he was.  Perhaps he was over protective of his hens, perhaps he was dropped on his head as an egg, or perhaps it was because we named him Turkey Girl.  Whatever the reason, many people fell prey to Turkey Girl, even after being warned about him.  I guess nobody believed the tales I told, nor understood my completely rational fear of roosters.


We later found out that Turkey Girl was a Malay Fighting Cock


Sunday, 27 May 2012

Willow's Progress

I have been remiss in not keeping you all updated with Willow’s progress.  If you are unsure as to what I am referring to, please read my blogs named, Troubling News and So Far so Good.
Willow is doing great, her wound is all but healed and she is full of beans.  Her vet was a bit concerned that there may have been traces of the spindle cells in Willow’s blood, but an extensive amount of blood work has all come back negative.  My beautiful girl is in the clear and is no longer at risk from the dreaded Big C.

Beautifully Healed
We all sighed a big sigh of relief at that news, including Alba who is really happy to have Willow back; not back to normal, but back to better than normal.  In the past playing with Willow was a bit like playing Russian roulette for Alba, she never knew if Willow was up for a game, or up for bully session. 
I mean, Willow never really hurt Alba, but the threat was never far below the surface.  Hubby and I often joke that if the girls were human, Willow would play rugby, because just runs and shoulders anyone out of her way.  Alba on the other hand would play soccer, because you just need to breath heavily on her and she falls down on the ground crying foul play. (My apologies to any soccer fans) But I digress.  Since Willow has had the tumour removed she has been like a new dog.  She initiates games with Alba, plays much more gently than before and tolerates Alba far better than she has done in the past.
Now in my ultimate wisdom I disclosed my theory for this miraculous change. I believe, I told the vet, that Willow knew she was sick, and now that the tumour has been removed she knows that she is no longer in danger and is much happier for it. The vet smiled at me with one of those smiles you get when someone is trying not to tell you that you are an idiot, and informed me that a more feasible explanation would be the painkillers that Willow has been on.  Seeing my blank look she continued further until the penny finally dropped.  You see, as well as relieving the pain from her operation the pain killers’ also relieved Willows constant pain due to her hip dysplasia.
When I thought about it, it made perfect sense.  Willow as always been a bit rough with Alba, but she only had the tumour for about four months. While Willow has had hip dysplasia since she was about 8 months old.  I manage this with supplements and pain killers, when I think she needs them. Sadly I realised that she has been a lot tougher than I would have been, that’s the rugby player in her again, and that she has been in a lot more pain than I realised.  
I’m gonna getcha!
So the silver lining in all of this nasty business is that now Willow is on regular pain relief, she is relatively pain free and as a result is happy to have a bit of a rumble with Alba. It has taken Alba a while to gain her confidence when she plays with Willow, but she is getting there and more and more often I see them having a good, fun play together.
Yes, I do feel a little guilty for not realising that Willow has been in so much pain, but that is the problem with dogs.  They can’t tell you when they are in pain, or how much pain they are in and Willow is such a gentle natured animal, she has never been aggressive or grumpy towards me or hubby, but if she had been, I might have wondered why.  I also understand now why she has been so dismissive with Alba, I mean let’s face it; if you or I had bad arthritis in our hips, we wouldn’t be happy with anyone who constantly ran into us and knocked us around, sending shockwaves of pain through our bodies…would we?

Thursday, 24 May 2012

It's Done

This morning I submitted my manuscript.  Yes I finally did it.  I believe I followed the publishers submission guidelines precisely, and I have sent only what was required.   So… all I have to do now is wait.  Wait and hope that my work is good enough to entice them to want to read more.
I believe that it is good enough; I am of course somewhat biased, but even so…I have faith.   I have written a paranormal romance novel aimed at young adults, a genre which is very popular at this time.  It is centred on a group of teenagers in their last year at school and is set in Melbourne.  I mean why should America have all the fun?   I feel that my characters are strong enough, and my story different enough, to engage many readers who enjoy this particular genre, and have them waiting eagerly for the next book.  
Do not read this book if you want a slow paced love story.  Do read this book if you like an unpredictable story-line with complicated relationships, love, hate, vengeance and fights to the death.  New friendships’ are formed and tested as the teenagers have to learn how to survive this new and dangerous world that they have stumbled upon.
Will they all survive?
Will good prevail over evil?
Will you ever feel safe again as you walk the streets of Melbourne after dark?
These questions and more will be answered when my book gets published.
How’s that for positive thinking?
Chill out time for Hubby and the girls

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Tiny Visitors


Yesterday morning my girls, Willow & Alba, led me to a couple of unusual visitors who had taken shelter in an unexpected place.

The girls had been dozing on their armchairs all morning, as they often do, when Willow suddenly jumped up and started sniffing and scratching, very determinedly I might add, at the backrest cushion. Now these chairs are situated outside of the house in a very sheltered spot, between the kitchen and the office. They are out of the direct sun, wind and rain and ideal spot for many a wee beastie, but I would not have thought that these particular critters would have made a home here.

Intrigued by Willow and Alba’s growing interest, I left the office and went to see what it was that was getting them so excited; I have to admit that I hoped that it wasn’t one of our regular visitors… a brown snake. I don’t dislike snakes, in fact I rather like them, however…one bite from a brown could be the end for the girls, or make me quite sick for a while.  So, cautiously I pulled the cushion back and took a peek. 

It took me a couple of seconds to realise what it was that I was looking at, but there crawling wing over claw, were two of the smallest bats I had ever seen. Check it out.





They are soooo cute, aren’t they? I have done some research online and these are Broadnosed micro bats…I think.  Feel free to correct me if I am wrong.

I am pleased to say that the girls aren’t bothering them at all and I hope that they will have a long and happy stay with us.

Thursday, 17 May 2012

A Day to Celebrate


It is a simply gorgeous day today; there is no other way to describe it. I was up in time to see the delicate mist rising from the valley floor, and I watched as the low feathery clouds drifted down to greet it.  The mist and the clouds finally came together, like a lovers caress, and they created a mystical, shimmering lake.  If this were the gateway between heaven and earth, then I would have no qualms about making that journey.


A pale blue sky, speckled with white powder-puff clouds provided the perfect back-drop for our sun, and when she rose high enough I could feel the warmth she provides on my face; warmth that was pleasantly countered by the cool autumn breeze. The scene was picturesque and tranquil, a near perfect day, but…it’s still its bloody cold inside.

Enough of that!  You know I still have no idea if anyone is reading my blogs, but I am going to pretend that there are hundreds…no millions of avid fans all waiting for my next entry.  Yeah right, but a girl can dream can’t she?

I am getting a bit excited about handing over my manuscript to a publishing house.  I did mention briefly that I had written a Young Adult novel in the paranormal romance genre.  Well, one week from today it shall be winging its merry way, via email, to the publisher of my choice. I do hope that I can impress them enough that they want me to send the manuscript to them.  And yes, I know that the probability of this happening is less likely than me suddenly getting you guys to read my blogs.  But try and try again will I, in the hope of getting published.  Would you like to read a snippet?

Of course you would, just a taste then.

Psychologically the change had already begun; Vanda had opened herself mentally and was now ready to accept the physical change which was well on its way. She dropped down to her hands and knees in anticipation of the bitter sweet pain that was to follow. One by one her bones began to elongate, break apart and then reform underneath her writhing skin. A skin  which seemed to be fighting to contain her bones as they metamorphosed,  while externally her skin was rapidly developing a thick, jet black, glossy coat.
The vampires had foolishly waited for the change to begin, hoping to attack when she was most vulnerable, but vulnerable was not a word one would use to describe Vanda, or her wolf, whatever the stage of her transformation.  To the vampires it seemed that the Lycan in front of them was struggling within her own, still transforming skin, stretching and writhing in apparent agony, the perfect opportunity to attack - they were wrong.

If this is somthing you think you'd like to sink your teeth into, please…leave a comment and let me know.



Wednesday, 16 May 2012

Great News!

Yesterday was a trying day for me.  Yesterday was the day when the vet said she would have the pathology results from Willow’s tumour. Yesterday was the day I would learn the fate of my girl.  I started out positive and managed to keep myself busy, I reviewed the final draft of my book, a young adult paranormal romance novel, I washed clothes and hung them out, I vacuumed and brought in the washing, played with the girls, fed the chooks and then made the mistake of looking at the clock.

Bugger, its only 11:30; and then I thought that, she (Willow’s vet) should call soon. But the hours dragged by and I turned into the proverbial ‘cat on a hot tin roof’.  So…I practiced the art of positive thinking, but no matter how hard I tried, how hard I willed it to happen…the vet didn’t call to put me out of my misery.  My emotional state quickly deteriorated from apprehension, to tension to the inevitability of fearing the worst and still she didn’t call.  As I mentioned it was not a good day.

This morning however, the vet did call and the news was wonderful.  It was a Haemangioma Tumour, still benign, and has been completely removed. The vet took the tumour out whole and a good margin of tissue was also removed, the pathology showed that there were no infected cells around the edges of this tissue, so the chances of it spreading further are nil.  There is still a chance that it could re-appear, but no more so than the chance of cancer in you or me.  In other words it’s over to the big man upstairs…or fate.

After I hung up the phone, I cried, I laughed, I gave Willow a big hug, then Alba and then I gave them a biscuit and I cried some more. It is over, at least the worst is.

I will be taking Willow back to the vet on Monday when she will have her stitches removed, and another blood sample taken, the samples taken during the operation showed that she was border-line anaemic, hopefully that is no longer the case, and then life can go back to normal…until the next crisis raises its ugly head.

For all of you who helped me with my positive thinking, or who prayed, or sent good wishes…I want to send you my heart-felt thanks.
I am a photographer not a film maker but I hope you enjoy this short vid.

Monday, 14 May 2012

So Far So Good

Willow has passed the first part of her ordeal with flying colours.  The operation went well on Friday, the tumour and a large amount of tissue surrounding it were successfully removed, and though she was a little disoriented that evening when she came home, she woke up full of beans on Saturday.  She went for her post-op check up on Monday, yesterday, and had her dressing removed.  The vet was very happy with the way she was healing and said that it wasn’t necessary to re-cover the wound.


Can you imaging any one of us humans going in for an operation, which left an 8 centimetre wound, then having the dressing removed three days later? I can’t.  We have to have the dressings removed and the wound cleaned then rebound numerous times, and then there is no touching rule, without the use of gloves and/or antiseptic washes for fear of infections. The first thing my girl did when she arrived home, much to my horror, was to run out onto the lawn and have a good old roll on the grass!  I have to ask the questions are dogs that tough, or are we that weak?


I have to admit that yesterday was the worst for me.  I think it was the fact that Willow seemed so unaffected by what has happened to her, and the wound looks so nasty, but whatever it was my heart broke and my tears flowed, and do you know what she did? She went to find her favourite toy; a chewed up plush dog named Flossy, dumped it on my lap then lay down at my feet.   Who’s comforting who?

I gave myself a mental slap after that, she deserves better from me.  If she can be strong so can I. That’s not to say I didn’t let her out of my sight for the rest of the day.  I also have to say that Alba is being very good about the whole thing, she didn’t like being left behind on our trips to the vet, she loves her big sister and doesn’t like to be apart from her, but she has kept a respectful distance from Willow since she came back from her operation.  I have noticed Alba wander past Willow, sneaking a look and a smell of her back as she does so, but the only part of her that touches is her tail, and this gently brushes across Willows face as she passes by.
There is still one question that needs to be answered and it is a question that is hanging heavily in the air.  The tumour and the surrounding skin/tissue that was removed have been sent of for testing and we will be getting the results, hopefully, on Wednesday.  We are all being very positive that the results will be good, that is, that the tumour was benign…or, if it was malignant, that it has all been removed.  Either way I’ll be sure to let you know.

Now I know that I don’t know you, or you me, but I would greatly appreciate your positive thinking, prayers or good wishes to help my girl have the best possible result.

Thank you.

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

The Dangers of the WWW


For those of you who read yesterday’s blog, I thought that I would let you know that Willow has been booked in for surgery this coming Friday, the 11th May.  For those of you who didn’t read my blog, perhaps now would be a good time.

The vet was very reassuring, though concerned about what they might find once the removed tumour has been analysed.  I won’t go on about this today, I am worried enough as it is, but I want to briefly touch upon the dangers of the web.

Shock horror…surely there are no dangers related to the World Wide Web? Realistically that is a silly question; we all know that there are dangers out there.  The one I am concerned about today relates to Willow, her condition and all other illnesses and diseases for humans and animals alike, because too much information in untrained hands is dangerous and in most cases unnecessarily distressing.

As I began to research Willow’s tumour the words ‘Spindle Cel’ and ‘Cancer’ are seen side by side in almost every sentence on a variety of sites.   I then looked at the treatment, the first course of action in every case is the removal of the tumour and surrounding skin, both of which are to be analysed.  If no cells have been left behind we can go home and celebrate, however, if some cells are perceived to be sill in the body, the next course of action is chemotherapy and if that fails… nothing. 

All true, all well written and explained and all utterly horrifying.   

The thing is, I am not a qualified veterinary surgeon, I am not even close, and by researching Willows condition I couldn’t help but think the very worse. So within the course of twenty minutes I morphed from being concerned and worried about trying to explain to Willow what was happening to her and why, to Oh My God, we could lose her!

My stomach knotted, I felt sick and I had to fight back my tears.  How could things go so wrong so fast?

I will conclude my blog by offering this piece of advice.  Do NOT self diagnose by using the web.  It is a wonderful resource, it offers a myriad of information, not all correct I might add, and it connects us to the world, but… and this is a big BUT… it can trigger emotions and warp our understanding of things beyond our ken, so be sensible about it.  Keep in mind that there are experts out there who know a hell of a lot more than you or I in their chosen fields and remember that there are times when ignorance is indeed bliss.

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Troubling News

I had intended to write something cheery on such a beautiful autumn day but I have just received some troubling news.

I took my Willow Bear to the vet last week to have a biopsy taken from a lump on her back.  I really did expect it to be a simple fatty lump, German shepherds are prone to those, but it turns out that it could be something a little more sinister.

The pathology results showed ‘Spindle cells’ which can often cause cancerous tumours in dogs, so my girl has to go under the knife. It could still be benign, fingers and everything else crossed, but we won’t know until it has been removed and sent back to the pathologist for analysis.  The vet, who I might add is exceptionally good, assured me that a good amount of tissue will be taken from around the lump to make sure nothing is left behind…just in case, so the prognosis is good.

I must admit I am feeling very flat after receiving the phone call and the problem is this; how can I explain to Willow, an animal who loves me unconditionally and trusts me with her life, that I am about to give her to a relative stranger who will proceed to cut a sizable portion of flesh off her back, which will result in her suffering a substantial amount pain for several days.  How can I do that?

I know that I could be preventing a course of chemotherapy treatment, and having a friend who is undergoing her second course of chemo for breast cancer, I know how nasty that is, or I could be saving her life by doing this, but it still begs the question…how on earth can I make her understand.  How can I make her understand that she has done nothing wrong, that she is not being punished and that I still love her?

Willow Bear
I guess I will just have to rely on the fact that dogs, unlike most humans, do not judge.  They do not hold grudges or seek revenge for perceived wrongs that have been done to them. I will just have to trust that she will continue to look through my eyes and deep into my soul, where she will see the love that I hold for her and maybe then, she will know that everything is going to be all right. 

Monday, 7 May 2012

A bit about us

I know I missed a couple of days, three to be precise, but it was such a beautiful weekend, and for those of us lucky enough to be living in Queensland, it was a long weekend.  Thank you Labour Day, and I just had to have a break away from the old PC to spend some quality time in the garden, with my girls of course.

They do enjoy being out in the garden, and when I say garden they have two acres to play around in, complete with chooks to look after, birds to chase and the scent of hares to track. They also like to curl up on my newly planted garden beds but that’s a whole other story.

While my girls frolic around, hubby and I work our combined butts off, although I have to say that I do the majority of the work.  You see he has a real job while I stay at home and write.  I must say that it works out really well, you’d be surprised how many ideas have popped into my mind while I have been sitting on the ride-on mower; not least of which is that I need to buy a new sports bra! It’s a bit bumpy out there.

Anyway, hard work aside we both derive an enormous amount of pleasure from our home. Should you happen to drive by, you would see us sitting outside at 5:45 every morning (weekends are later of course) for our cup of coffee and breakfast. Yes even in winter…we may be wrapped up in flannel jammies, socks slippers and dressing gowns, not a pretty sight I’ll admit, in an attempt to beat of the early morning chill…but we will be there.

Misty Mornings
Evenings are a little different, when hubby used to work from home we would be outside with a cold beverage, (yes… most likely alcoholic) in time to enjoy the sunset every evening, now that he has a real job and is rarely home before dark, we miss out on that but we make sure that we make the most of our weekend evenings.

We are defiantly what you would call ‘out-doorsie-people’ and it is not unusual for us to be out until early in the morning when there is a full moon, either doing a spot of full moon gardening or simply sitting in the middle of the lawn, glasses in hand and the girls by our side as we chat about everything and nothing.

Partial Eclipse 2012
I have to admit though, there are times when I look at the girls lying stretched out under the stars and I envy them their fur coats, (not that I would EVER buy one) they are so snug and warm while we shiver in our thin skins, and I wonder what it would be like to run without cumbersome clothes and shoes to trip me, naked, warm and following the scents that float on the cool night air.  It’s about that time that I think that maybe I’ve had enough wine or… maybe it’s the wolf in me trying to come out to play

Thursday, 3 May 2012

Day two - A bit about Willow

If any one out there is actually reading my blog, or following my tweets, then you will have noticed that I spend a lot of time talking about Alba.  You will also know that I have another dogter, Willow. Now you can be forgiven for thinking that Alba is my favourite but I want to set the record straight…I have no favourites, I love both of my girls equally.  And to prove it I’ll tell you a little about Willow.

First a little bit of history.  I have always loved dogs, I have always wanted to have a dog in my family but I did not achieve this goal until I turned 40. When you’re a kid you have to abide by your parents rules, we were allowed fish and budgies and bunny rabbits.  We did have a dog once when I was about three, but he used to take me for a walk, or should I say drag and he liked to 'play’ with the cattle in the field at the bottom of our garden.  Needless to say the farmer didn’t appreciate this, so rusty, after a very short visit with us, went to another home.  

Then as many of us do in early adulthood, I moved from one rental apartment to another and pets of any description were not an option.  Even when I bought my first place, a modest two bedroom unit, I still was not in a position to own a dog.

So, I am now forty with a husband and a house with a garden…come in doggy!  I had been researching for months as to which breed to get, I won’t bore you with those details, suffice it to say for about four months my poor husband lived and breathed dogs. We finally decided on a White German Shepherd, found a breeder with a pregnant bitch and went to see her.  We were not impressed.  We thought the dogs had no personality, they showed no interest in us, were not playful…plain old boring. However, if we knew then what we know now, we would have realised that the dogs were simply well trained.

On the way home that day we passed a sign saying German shepherd pups for sale, on a whim we pulled in, just to see what they were like.  We left half an hour later and headed straight to the nearest pet store, where we spent a ridiculous amount of money in preparation for our new baby.  

Willow Bear was ten weeks old, she and her brother were the only pups left, and she was the most beautiful thing we, notice I said we and not I, had ever seen.  Golden brown puffed-up fur that made her look big but when we picked her up, our hands sunk into that deep luxurious coat until they made contact with her little frame.  She was like a little tapeworm that quickly wriggled her way into our hearts, now that tapeworm has grown into a boa constrictor and I do not know what we will do when she has to leave us. Enough of that!  

That evening neither of us got any sleep, my husband would have, if I had let him, but I didn’t.  I was excited and worried and sleep was not going to come to me that night. Did we buy everything we need?  Will the collar fit?  What if we can’t find the food she likes?  Will she slip on the timber floors? You have no idea.  At about three am I tapped hubby on the shoulder, for the hundredth time and asked, My God…what if she doesn’t like me?  He’d had enough. He sat up in bed and gave me a Taste of Reality when he asked;  'Can you hear yourself?  Do you even know what you’re going on about? You sound like a crazy woman.  She’s a dog! All you have to do is be here and she’ll love you.  Now shut up and go to sleep.' 

I did see his point and I did shut up, but I didn’t go to sleep, how could I?  I was getting a puppy in the morning; my Willow Bear was coming home.

Willow Bear at 10 weeks







Willow at 8 months

Willow at 2 years

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Day One

I guess this is my first official daily blog. I have been sitting here trying to think what I could write that would be of any interest to you.  I don’t know you…you don’t know me, so what on earth should I say?

The answer came while I was sitting on the toilet; sad but true, and the answer is this, why don’t I just write as I have always done?  So… I will be writing for my own enjoyment and if you find it even mildly interesting, I will be happy. On the other hand, if you think it is not worth the screen it’s displayed on, I’ll still be happy…why?  Because I am writing and I love it.  

All I ask of you is that you comment on my blog, be it good, bad or indifferent, I don’t  care,  I just don’t want to feel lonely out there in cyber space, it’s cold and it’s dark and no one can hear you scream!

I have been writing or telling stories in one form or another for as long as I can remember, squeezing in an hour or two in between work, rest and play, but never quite finishing anything and never quite getting anything just right…until now, and wow it is good!  Yes of course I am biased, but I have to be.  If I’m not confident with the quality of my work, how on earth can I expect a publisher to take it on, and no…I am not going to tell you all about it, not yet anyway.  I also realise that the only opinions that really count our those of my potential readers, they will be the ones who will tell me if it really is as good as I think...but I have to get it out to them first.

About ten months ago I was watching one of my girls, Alba, who was fast asleep on the sofa and who seemed to be having an incredible dream.  Lying stretched out on her side; her legs were running towards or away from something at an alarming pace.  Suddenly she stopped, froze then let out a big sigh.  Arr it’s over I thought.  But I was wrong.  Seconds later she was up and running again, this time sniffing the air trying to pick up a scent as she went, now I knew that she was the hunter, not the hunted. That’s my girl.

Anyway I began to wonder what she could be dreaming of.  Little human girls dream of being a princess, or a pop star, they dream of having a pony, or having all the Barbie toys that were ever made. My little girl, I decided, was having a dream about her namesake, she was dreaming that she was a wolf running wild and free…excuse me a moment my Little Wolf wants her tummy tickled…what?   Even the toughest wolves like a tickle now and then.  Anyway where were we, arr yes…running wild and free through the forest, on the scent of a hare or perhaps even something bigger?  

She stopped running again and her mouth began to twitch, she stretched her neck out a little and it looked as if she were trying to blow me a kiss, he mouth puckered and pursed and it suddenly dawned on me, she was trying to howl!  I pictured her then, standing on a ridgeline silhouetted by the full moon, her head lifted high as she howled her delight for simply being alive.  My image was shattered seconds later by the pathetic little mewling sound that fought its way out of her mouth, still…in her dream it would have been a howl to freeze the hearts of all who heard it, a howl of a strong and powerful wolf, not just any wolf but a wolf with human tendencies.  In her dreams, Alba, I decided, was a strong and powerful werewolf.

I could be right, or I could be wrong, but there is one thing I know for sure, watching Alba dream and trying to get inside her head, opened the already leaking floodgates of my imagination.  A serve of werewolves, vampires and humans mixed with a dollop of vengeance, betrayal and love.  There had to be a book in there somewhere…and there was.



Run Little Wolf run!


Tuesday, 1 May 2012

An introduction to my Girls

I thought it only fair to put my money were my mouth is.  I have boasted that my dogters, Willow Bear and Alba Wolf are ‘beautiful to the point of distraction’.  You don’t know me, so why should you believe me, that's fair enough so... I have posted a few photo's of my girls so that you can be the judge.

Remember… a mother’s love is often blind. (But I don’t think mine is…I told you, obsessed!)

Willow Bear – Strong and loving




Alba Wolf – Graceful and adventurous
 
Willow is showing her little sister the ropes

 

First off the board

As I delve into the mysterious space that is the World Wide Web, what wonders will I find?