As some of you are no doubt aware, Rick and I rescued a ten-year-old Maltese just a few months after our son, Mike, died. Her name was Snowy. . . not a name we would have chosen for her, but one she responded to.

She became one of our family so quickly. Snowy was a love, who gave Rick and I so much joy when we needed it most. She made her way to our hearts in lightning speed.

She was an old girl when we adopted her; but we obviously hoped we’d have her for five years or so.

In March of 2021, Snowy’s health rapidly declined. She had Cushings disease, which began to ravage her internal organs, specifically her liver and her heart. When it became painfully obvious that the medications were no longer working like they should, Rick and I made the heart breaking decision to have our vet put Snowy to sleep.

We have a country vet – a beautiful soul who works from her home near Cochrane, Alberta. I sat in the back seat of Rick’s truck while he drove us out to the clinic. Snowy was resting on my lap and didn’t move during the drive out. We asked the vet if she’d agree to put Snowy to sleep where she lay. . . in the back seat of Rick’s truck. She, of course, consented to do that.

The three of us were crowded into the back seat of the truck. I was crying uncontrollably – sobbing really as I stroked her sweet little head for the last time. Rick turned Snowy to face me; he thought she’d want to see my face as she passed. He was crying and our vet was crying too.

We had her for three short years, but that little pet meant so very much to Rick and I. After her passing, we both went through another grieving period for our Mike. Snowy was our salvation and hope after Mike died, so when she was gone, it brought us both back to March of 2018.

Since it was so very tough to let Snowy go, Rick and I thought maybe no more dogs for a little while. Two days later, we were both searching online again for another Maltese, preferably female. Snowy meant so much to us that we couldn’t bear to NOT have another dog.

We found Sophie in Lloydminster, Alberta. She is a female three-year-old Maltese, just retired from having puppies. She looks like Snowy’s sister and we love her already.

She’s cuddly and lovely and likes to “hunt” sticks in the backyard.

Take care everyone.

Kim

Good day everyone.

The idea of “hitting the road” has become oh-so-appealing these days; especially when heading to those places less travelled. From Calgary, most people head West, into the Rocky Mountains, Lake Louise and to places in British Columbia. . . and who could blame them? Nature’s beauty and splendour is on display everywhere you look.

Or they travel South, colliding with the beauty and wonder that is Waterton National Park.

But, not many travelers head East from Calgary, so that’s where we want to explore!

Lately, I’ve been enthralled with the idea of finding standing ghost towns: you know, the little mining towns where one day, it seems like everyone living there just up and left. They’ve left behind their homes and barns and their way of life. I admit. . . I find it fascinating and unfathomable.

Last week, after doing a google search, we headed out of town towards Wayne, Alberta. The google searches listed Wayne as an Albertan ghost town, so I was eager to get a look at it. We drove through Drumheller and continued East a very short distance where, after crossing an extraordinary number of train bridges, we found Wayne. Disappointed, it turns out, Wayne is NOT a ghost town.

There are people living there. There’s a functioning hotel with attached saloon. People were outside working on their cars and buildings. Wayne is NOT a ghost town.

Driving on, in the rolling hills and beautiful landscape of Eastern Alberta, we did unearth a hidden gem; a space encompassed by hoodoo’s. It was just an old barn-like structure leaning toward the middle of an enclave of old, picked-apart cars. But, it was such a peaceful space, it really was beautiful.

Running parallel to this abandoned space, it was obvious that the train used to run right by the old barn. Following the path of the tracks left in the dirt, we happened upon a train bridge built over the creek.

Walking on the old, wooden slats of the bridge made me feel a little uneasy. There was quite a bit of space left between the boards.

It’s likely a little odd to feel this way, but we loved this place! And no one was there.

Take care of yourselves.

Kim