December Photo Contest Winner

Judi B sent us this winning photo of Guido. As the winner of the December “What Makes Your Holidays Happy” contest, Judi has won a Contech product of her choice!

“My holidays are meowvalously happy because my cat Guido and I regularly visit a senior center for persons with Down Syndrome and Autism. It warms my heart and makes Guido purr to mingle and jingle with the endearing people who are maybe not as agile as both Guido and I. But basically we’re all the same creatures and love sharing our Holiday cheer.”

The Girls Go on a Road Trip

By Bruce Thomson, Director of Forestry Sales

Part One – The Road Trip

For the second time in as many weeks, I was at the vet’s office buying a large bag of ‘special’ food for the Girls. As I handed over my credit card, the vet walked out of his office, “Oh, you’re back. How are the Girls?” He didn’t wait for my answer but continued down the hall, whistling to himself. I noticed what appeared to be a 2010 BMW brochure sticking out of his back pocket. I took my cat food and returned to my 14-year-old car, hoping it wouldn’t break down on the short drive home.

We were taking the Girls on a road trip to their “cousins’” house in Portland, OR. My wife had volunteered us to “babysit” our daughter’s cats while she and her family went on vacation to California for a week. I have made many trips into the US with the Girls and have learned some important lessons about US Customs when crossing the border. Most importantly, be truthful. Customs agents have very little patience for people who are not honest. Keep your responses to their questions to the point. Make sure your pets have all the necessary, up-to-date inoculations and have the requisite paperwork quickly available in case the agent wants to review it. It is not permissible to take an open bag of dry food into the US, hence my trip to the vet before hitting the road.

When travelling in the vehicle, the Girls ride in a large cage complete with a soft pad so that they are comfortable and do not slide around. In warmer weather, we position the cage to take advantage of the air conditioner. Pets can overheat very quickly and must never be left alone in a vehicle. When my wife finds the lure of a shopping mall too difficult to resist, I can be found sitting in the car, under a shady tree with the windows down. I read a book and the Girls sleep. We are sometimes there for a long time.

When the Girls were younger, we had the brilliant idea of buying harnesses and leashes to take them for a walk as a break from riding in the car. At the first rest stop on the I-5, we smugly got out the harnesses and leashes. Everyone was going to be impressed at what great cat owners we were, taking the lovely little cats for a nice walk in the cool grass. After much struggling, scratching and growling (yes, the Girls have a very threatening growl when things are not going their way) the harnesses and leashes were on…we were ready for our walk. As soon as their paws hit the pavement they went to ground. They both lay on their stomachs and would not move despite much cajoling and encouragement. The walk turned into a one inch drag and then back into the car. We quietly left the rest stop nursing our bloody cat-inflicted scratches.

Part Two – A Visit with the Cousins

Upon our arrival in Portland, the first step is to get the Girls settled and near a litter box. At our daughter’s house, we keep the Girls in a wire cage meant for a large dog. I am sure they would be very indignant if they knew they were staying in a dog cage. They have to be in a cage because the three cats that live in the house would prefer that the Canadian Girls do an about-face and head back north.

The Girls’ cage is outfitted with a sleeping platform–complete with blanket–a large litter box, and their food and water dishes. During the summer they have their own fan to keep them cool. Once in the cage, there is the usual hissing and growling. The resident cats take turns walking teasingly close to the Girls and give their greeting hisses. It takes about an hour for everyone to settle down. The usual antisocial position taken by the Girls is their backs to the front of the cage and their faces toward the wall.

A bit of history on my daughter’s cats…They are all ‘rescued’ cats. The oldest one, Pavel (named after an ex-NHL player), is from a San Francisco animal shelter. The middle one, Tanner, was a stray that decided to move in one day. He must have sensed that this would be a great place to live. The youngest one, Ernnie, is named after Ernest Hemingway’s cats. Ernnie is a polydactyl cat–she has an extra toe on both front paws.

While in Portland, the Girls are frequently taken out of the cage for exercise and people contact (although they give the impression that people contact is really unnecessary). Of course, once out of the cage, their only interest is to get back in as quickly as possible, unaware that the others have been sequestered in an upstairs bedroom.

Finally, the time comes to pack up the Girls and head home. After cleaning up the litter box, packing away the cat dishes, fan, and blankets, the Girls are back in the travel cage for the long ride up the I-5. For the return trip they are joined in the back seat by the many ‘bargains’ purchased in and around the Portland area (we always do our part to help the US economy with a generous infusion of Canadian money).

Once home, the Girls are the first out of the car and into the house. They walk out of their cage somewhat indignantly and waddle off down the hallway to their favorite roosts on the arms of the sofa. They give no indication that they are glad to be home, nor do they give me any credit for getting them home safely; they just go back from whence they came seven days ago. As my wife and I see the two grumps lying on the couch we just look at each other and laugh. When it comes to the Girls we often say, “Why do we do this?”

Zoe and the ScareCrow

Marla sent us some photos of her dog, Zoe, enjoying the scarecrow. She says her veggies have been kept safe, and, “luckily the deer and other critters don’t find the scarecrow quite as entertaining.”

The Story of Everet – Part II

After much searching and an extreme amount of work–all of which had to happen in less than two months–we bought our first home (or what we call the biggest dog house ever), thanks to Everet. It is 1700 square feet with a big, fenced backyard.

And Everet made himself right at home…munching slippers, hunting and chewing up Tracy’s prized stuffies, and deciding that the children (our children) are really his own. While he loves our new home, he has an independent streak and will run away any time he gets off leash. Let’s just say, I can hardly wait for the PetCompass.

When he decides to stay put, he can be found sleeping on a big pile of dirt he dug from the yard. At night, he takes turns sleeping on the floor next to the kids’ beds and at the front and back doors. If he can’t decide, he arranges himself at the top of the stairs where he can keep an eye on everything all at once.

But having Everet in our lives has not only brought our family closer, it has reminded us that anything can be accomplished if you put the right effort in, and that the greatest love of all is unconditional.

The only thing he asks for in return is to be petted and loved. He loves us no matter what, and sits by our side if he knows we’re upset. He has all the traits and qualities we wish we had most of the time.

- Francesca Murray

Two’s company…Three’s a crowd

Last January, we moved into a friend’s house while she took a leave of absence for a year to live in Costa Rica. We promised to take care of her home, her yard, her tenants, her mail…and her 14-year-old cat, Coleman.

We (my fiancé and his two young boys) are cat lovers – having adopted two kittens (Pablo and Pearl Playful Robertson) – two years earlier. We were excited at the prospect of including Coleman into our family.

I should have realized things were not going to go as smoothly as I had envisioned when, while moving in, I was certain that Coleman was giving me evil looks; slanting his yellow eyes and looking ready to attack any time I got too close to him. He’s a very vocal black cat and would “meow” with discontent each time a new box was unpacked. I’m not going to lie to you – I was a little scared of the old guy. He seemed angry and unpredictable. We decided, however, with a little patience (and a lot of love and attention) Coleman would warm up to us.

We also did some research on introducing cats to each other. Unfortunately, it didn’t sound as easy as introducing friends at a cocktail party.

Keeping Pablo and Pearl Playful sequestered in a room, while adjusting to their new environment, was the first step. This was supposed to allow time to adjust to Coleman’s scent and their new surroundings.

The second thing was to have the cats meet face-to-face, keeping one of the cats in a cage to avoid a physical confrontation. The first meeting was shocking for me because I had never heard my cute, sweet, adorable, cuddly Pablo hiss!

The ‘process of introduction’ is supposed to take about a month – until you feel like the cats will get along happily ever after – cage or no cage. We didn’t have the luxury of time. A week after moving in, we left for a planned vacation to Mexico. We let all the cats loose in the house, and although they continued to hiss at each other if they happened to cross paths, they weren’t biting or scratching.

I was a little apprehensive about the situation but after a couple of margaritas in Mexico, the whole thing seemed amusing. That was until we returned home a week later to find the entire place had been sprayed by “Cole-Monster”. I guess that was his way of letting us know that he does not like us or our cats.

“Cole-Monster” then ran away for a week. Maybe he needed a holiday too. Since then, he has been an outdoor cat. He visits daily for food and attention but he’s mostly a grumpy guy who didn’t appreciate his house being taken over. I do sympathize with him.

We tried, maybe a little too quickly, to include him (or have him include us). I’m positive that when we move out, he’ll move right back in and take back what was his.

We are moving again soon and I can’t stop thinking about how great it would be to have another kitten…

Helpful tip: I found the best thing to use for cat spray is pure apple cider vinegar. The scent of vinegar will linger for awhile, but it’s the only product that completely erases the cat spray.

- Sandra Hahlen

Puppies Puppies Puppies!

For the last few weeks, we’ve had some extra staff at Contech–two new additions to make us smile, laugh, and keep our cortisol levels down. Maralyn, our resident Golden Retriever breeder (who also keeps our books straight) has been bringing her puppies, Violet and Christopher Robin, to work. We love having them here each day, and have enjoyed watching them grow up! We thought you might like to watch them grow up too.

Click a photo to view a Smilebox presentation:

At 10 days.	At 2 weeks.
At 3 1/2 weeks.	At 4 weeks.
At 5 weeks.	At 7 weeks.
At 8 weeks and going home!

The Story of Everet – Part I

It began with an advertisement on the Telus employee site, looking for a nice home for a beautiful dog. The advertisement continued to read “he was found on the side of a road and may have been hit by a vehicle. If a home isn’t found, the SPCA will have to put him down”.

Devastated, I received an urgent phone call at work and an e-mail with a picture of this very big but beautiful dog. “Francesca, we have to go see him…” the phone call was a typical back and forth about how much responsibility it is to own a dog, costs associated with owning a dog, and owning a vehicle big enough for a Great Pyrenees. At the time, we were proudly equipped with a 1999 Ford Festiva.

Reluctantly I agreed because I always dreamed of owning my own white, fluffy (polar bear) dog and just seeing couldn’t hurt–especially when we were definitely going to sleep on it before making any crazy decisions.

We arrived at the home of the family—100 km away–who found Everet. They had picked him up from the SPCA because they were afraid that he was going to be put down. I remember the first time I laid eyes on him; he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He welcomed us by wagging his bushy tail and body, sniffing, and trying to get petted. Although he was in very bad shape (not taken care of, previously abused, underweight for his type of dog) he still welcomed us with a big, happy smile.

I fell in love, despite being a bit scared because he was a very big dog and they said that he was still a puppy! One look at him and you knew he was smart—particularly if he wanted something.

During our visit, he ran around, played with us, and he was already acting like our dog. About half an hour later, we were trying to squeeze “Gary” into our Festiva, with the promise that we’re only going to try him out for the night. It was a tight squeeze because we had to fit Everet and our daughter, Tracy, in the back seat. He took up 97% of the back seat and he thought that he was a lap dog. It was quite a journey.

As we drove slowly down Macleod Trail, everyone slowed down to take a look…. Some were laughing, some were just nodding and moving along, while others looked, pointed and laughed. Our dog was almost bigger than our car!

We finally arrived home and Tracy agreed to stay with him while we went to the pet store for food, toys, treats, and a large-breed kennel. It was like having a new baby; we were excited to give him everything for the first time.

We returned home and Tracy reported that he had slept the entire time we were gone. By nighttime, he was getting antsy because there were some very loud people getting too close to the house. His “great”ness immediately took charge. While Jesse was laying on the floor with him, he stood up in what we later nicknamed his ‘cute pose’–ears up like a soldier, pinned Jesse to the floor with one paw to ensure that he was safe, and started growling and barking in defense of his new home.

We didn’t have to think about what we were going to do next…We called the people who found him and reported that we wanted to try him out for the entire week. Deep down, we already knew that we were keeping him, but we were trying to pretend that we were making this decision responsibly.

The SPCA and people who found Everet, had assured us that he was kennel trained and that there would be no issues if we had to keep him in a kennel (while we were at work) until he was used to the house.

The next day we put him into the kennel with food, water, toys, and everything he needed. We had bought the best large-breed indoor kennel the pet store had. They assured us that this kennel was designed for dogs like Everet.

We arrived home that afternoon to find our dog waiting for us at the front door. This time, his entire body wagging and smiling!

I don’t remember the order of my thoughts, but I quickly moved my eyes across the living room to see if the house was destroyed. Jesse and I thought perhaps someone came into the house and let him out…but whom?

We quickly ran downstairs to discover that Everet had chewed himself out of the kennel. Yes, he actually chewed about five of the bars off, making a hole big enough to squeeze himself through. His mouth was bleeding a bit and he still had a piece of the metal in his mouth. This was the first time we discovered what a tough dog he was.

We gathered the pieces up, packed the kennel into the car and took it back to the store; they gave us our money back without an explanation.

We were confident that Everet was a great dog and decided to pick a fitting name—“Everet” (after Mount Everest) was an obvious choice.

Our landlord, however, was not convinced a big dog was a “great” idea. We invited him to come over and take a look at the dog before turning us down. He took one look at Everet and said “no, he has to go”. We begged and pleaded, so he said that we will have to pay extra rent–$100/month– if we wanted to keep him. No deal.

And that was where the Part II of our adventure began…finding a home that would fit Everet.

-Francesca Murray

Puppy Lessons for the Obama Family

It seems lately that the focus of Americans is not on the new president, but what dog his family should choose for their new home.  Shelter versus breeder controversy aside, have the Obamas given any thought to what it’s like to own a puppy? 

Four months ago, my fiancé and I decided to add a puppy to our household.  We had recently moved to a larger house with a fenced backyard and we wanted to share it with a dog – preferably one that didn’t have the best start in life.  That’s how we settled on Cypress, our Labrador/Doberman mix.

I browsed adoption websites and the SPCA daily, and checked the newspaper regularly.  Finally, we found a rescued litter and went for our first visit.  The six tiny pups had been severely malnourished and were very shy.  However, seeing them play, eat, and sleep together gave us a sense of their “status” in the group.  Cypress approached us with curiosity but warmed up to us quickly.  When we picked him up he was calm – not trying to squirm or get away–and he wasn’t biting or being pushy.  We knew this was a smart puppy that would fit in well with us.  The Obamas should take a close look at how the puppies interact with one another as an indication of how they will act at the White House.

We preferred a fairly large dog–assertive, yet not a bully or too hyperactive.  We also wanted to be sure he was healthy, and had all his vet papers. We researched breeds to find out about dispositions and we talked about who would be responsible for the puppy during the day, who would take care of food and training, and of course, who would scoop the poop. The whole Obama family needs to think and talk about these responsibilities (although I’m sure they’ll have a paid “scooper”) together before and after the puppy arrives.

The most valuable thing we have done for Cypress so far was to enrol him in a puppy class, where he could socialize with other dogs and people.  We made it a priority to go together every week and we all did the “homework”. We also learned how to let Cypress play without getting hurt or overwhelmed—an extremely valuable lesson.  I’m not sure how the president of the United States will manage a puppy class, but I’m sure there’s a group catering to the presidential sect.  The whole Obama family should go to the class to help the adults and children train the dog, and become comfortable with dog handling. 

We have enjoyed every moment of “puppyhood” so far, even when he wakes us up in the middle of the night, when we have to stay at home on Friday nights to be with him, and when he chews my shoes….sometimes.  Getting a dog has brought us closer together, given us more responsibility, and Cypress is part of our family.  It’s fantastic that the Obama family is getting a dog (regardless of breed or where it comes from) because there is nothing like seeing the happy face of a puppy when you come home at the end of a hard day (and I’m sure the new president will have a few of those).

-Jessica Cameron