Helen's Home World: dance

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Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Wordless Wednesday

31 Oct 2000 to 23 Aug 2012

Sunday, February 20, 2011

My sister and I travelled to Toronto by train this past Friday to see Billy Elliot. Tucker and Beckett stayed with their Westie cousin Toby. The train ride was nice; I hadn't been on one here in Canada for years. We had a little delay when a freight train broke down on the tracks in front of us but they got the freight train moved off the line after only about 10 minutes. We arrived in Toronto at about 1:30 pm and made our way to the hotel, the Sheraton Toronto Centre. Across the street was the Toronto City Hall - Nathan Phillips Square, the ice rink and Old City Hall. After checking in we went down to the Eaton Centre grabbed a quick bite to eat and then just wandered around for a while. We went back to the hotel to get freshened up for dinner, then it was off to Big Daddy's Crab Shack.

After dinner, we made our way by the subway to the Canon Theatre where the Toronto run of Billy Elliot is playing. The theatre is very ornate and was originally built as a movie theatre; you won't see them like that any more. The musical was wonderful, too bad you can't take any video. The kids in the play are just fantastic dancers and singers. The boy, who starred as Billy on the night we saw the play comes from Burlington, Ontario and is only 12 years old.

Toronto by Train

After the play, we went back to our hotel for a couple glasses of wine. The wine was aptly named "Girls Night Out". The next morning we went to a restaurant called Eggspectation for breakfast, then after a bit of window shopping, back to the hotel to check out in time to go back to Union Station in time to get our train home. We were again delayed, this time by problems with signal lights and arrived back home about half an hour late. It was, even with the train delays, a great weekend, one to remember.

It was only a taste of Toronto, would have been nice to have another day or two. Maybe next time.

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Agility Blessing

May the tunnels not have too much suction,
May the course be fun and fast.
May your dog not stop to say "hello" to the photographers they pass!
May the table not be too slippery,
May the chute house no scary beasts,
May all the yellow parts be touched with one little toe, at least
May the wind be always at your back,
May no bars fall on the ground,
May the A-frame have no stop sign on the top,
May the judge's whistle never sound.
May your dog obey all correct commands,
And ignore the ones that are wrong.
May your heart be light, your feet be sure, and the bond with your dog grow strong.
At the finish line, may great joy abound, regardless of your score,
You have your dog, your dog has you, and who could ask for more?

Written by: PJ Hughes

What is a Title!

Not just a brag, not just a stepping stone to a higher title, not just an adjunct to competitive scores. A Title is a tribute to the dog that bears it, a way to honor that dog, an ultimate memorial. It will remain in the record and in the memory for about as long as anything in this world can remain. Few humans will do as well or better in that regard, and though the dog himself doesn't know or care that his achievements have been noted, a Title says many things in the world of humans, where such things count.

A Title says your dog was intelligent, and adaptable, and good natured. It says that your dog loved you enough to do the things that please you, however crazy they may have sometimes seemed. And a Title says that you loved your dog, that you loved to spend time with him because he was a good dog, and that you believed in him enough to give him yet another chance when he failed, and that in the end your faith was justified.

A Title proves that your dog inspired you to have the special relationship enjoyed by so few, that in the world of disposable creatures, this dog with a Title was greatly loved, and loved greatly in return. And when that dear short life is over, the Title remains as a memorial of the finest kind, the best you can give to a deserving friend, volumes of praise in one small set of initials before or after the name.

A Title is nothing less than love and respect, given and received, permanently recorded.

Written by Sandy Mowery, Wisconsin

The Last Battle

If it should be that I grow frail and weak
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then will you do what must be done,
For this -- the last battle -- can't be won.

You will be sad I understand,
But don't let grief then stay your hand,
For on this day, more than the rest,
Your love and friendship must stand the test.

We have had so many happy years,
You wouldn't want me to suffer so.
When the time comes, please, let me go.
Take me to where to my needs they'll tend,
Only, stay with me till the end

And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you will agree
It is a kindness you do to me.

Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I have been saved.
Don't grieve that it must be you
Who has to decide this thing to do;

We've been so close -- we two -- these years,
Don't let your heart hold any tears.

Author Unknown

Beyond the Rainbow

As much as I loved the life we had and all the times we played,

I was so very tired and knew my time on earth would fade.

I saw a wondrous image then of a place that’s trouble-free,

Where all of us can meet again to spend eternity.

I saw the most beautiful Rainbow, and on the other side

Were animals of every sort as healthy as could be!

My own tired, failing body was fresh and healed and new

I wanted to run with them, but I had something left to do.

I needed to reach out to you, and tell you I’m alright

That this place is truly wonderful,

Then a bright Glow pierced the night.

Twas the Glow of many candles shining bright, strong and bold

I knew then that it held your love in its brilliant shades of gold.

For although we may not be together in the way we used to be,

We are still connected by a cord no eye can see.

So, whenever you need to find me, we’re never far apart,

If you look beyond the Rainbow and listen with your heart.

Do you think the time is right?

May I say goodbye to pain filled days and endless lonely nights?
I've lived my life and done my best, an example tried to be.
So can I take that step beyond, and set my spirit free?
I didn't want to go at first, I fought with all my might.
But something seems to draw me now to a warm and living light.
I want to go, I really do; it's difficult to stay.
But I will try as best I can to live just one more day.
To give you time to care for me and share your love and fears.
I know you're sad and afraid, because I see your tears.
I'll not be far, I promise that, and hope you'll always know,
That my spirit will be close to you wherever you may go.
Thank you so for loving me. You know I love you too,
And that's why it's so hard to say goodbye and end this life with you.
So hold me now just one more time and let me hear you say,
Because you care so much for me, you'll let me go today.

I Loved You Best

So this is where we part, My Friend,

And you'll run on, around the bend.

Gone from sight, but not from mind,

new pleasures there you'll surely find.

I will go on; I'll find the strength,

Life measures quality, not its length.

One long embrace before you leave,

Share one last look, before I grieve.

There are others, that much is true,

But they be they, and they aren't you.

And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,

Will remember well all you've taught.

Your place I'll hold, you will be missed,

The fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.

And as you journey to your final rest,

Take with you this...I loved you best.

-Jim Willis

The Price We Pay

There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals.

It is a cycle unlike any other.

To those who have never lived through it's turnings and walked it's rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with the full knowledge it will be broken seems incomprehensible.

Only we know how small price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given.

Suzanne Clother

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Wordless Wednesday

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Taste of Toronto