dawn is mineShifting, rising, waking

at the sound of song,

shuffling into slippers

to face another dawn.

One pup in her bed,

one out his window peering

as silver creeps across the lawn

that night is done with sharing.

Coffee poured and leashes latched –

a canine celebration!

And quietly we slip outside

to face a new creation.

Winged musicians yawn a song

as gold slides in their nest

“Of all the visits light has made

today will be the best!”

Palm boughs drip with diamond dew,

mist parts their leaves to rise,

grass flowers disrobe to bathe

in sunshine from the skies.

Green flash seekers line the beach

to search day’s end for a sign.

They can keep the burning sunset.

As for me, the dawn is mine.


Peter Rabbit Got Lost

It’s just plain MEAN what whoever they were did to him.  Let him loose in a country where Bunnies like him do not live wild,  in the scorching heat of the Caribbean summer, in a neighbourhood where cats and iguanas are the pests, and in a subdivision where at least 15 dogs are walked twice a day.  He must have belonged to someone not long ago – his collar is still on him.  They probably saw him as another mouth to feed (and backside to walk behind) and left him in a field full of spanish needle.  Meet Black Peter, the Rabbit.

Poor little Peter! If the dogs get him he will WISH for Mr. McGreggor’s pie!

The pups didn’t pick up the scent.  The two dogs ahead of us hadn’t either.  But why on earth would they be looking for the smell of some northern rabbit that they’ve never seen the likes of in these parts?  But Juju watches his mama very closely and followed my eyes to what I was watching so intently.  And went over to investigate himself.  Lola still hasn’t seen him – she didn’t want to put her paws on the grass (brat).



Mothers Day for Childless Women

Today can be hard for many people across the world remembering Mothers Day.  The first Mothers Day after mom has passed on is usually one of pain and tears.  The Mothers Day when you and your mom are not on speaking terms is also a very difficult one.  Not to mention the day for the terminally ill mom who might not make it to her next Mothers Day.  Fortunately my mom is alive and relatively well but this year I have glimpsed the fear of losing her twice.  This year I was very grateful for her presence.

One set of mourners on Mothers Day that are often forgotten are women who have always wanted children but have yet to see that stage of life begin.  I imagine it is particularly painful for those ladies well past the age where they can have children without going against everything in science.

There is a couple in my church who have been loving guides to many young people over the course of the years.  They are about the age of my parents and generous with their time and understanding.  They have never been able to have children.  Every Mothers Day my heart goes out to the lady who has been such a gracious mother-figure to me.  Today she turned out brave and beautiful – she’s actually still a stunner despite her years – because not only was she found childless on Mothers Day but this was also her first Mothers Day without her mom.

For women like myself who are still in childbearing years and unmarried, we get kind handshakes saying “soon enough” or “don’t worry, it will come.”  Consolations that feel a bit like Valentines Day to the newly-jilted.  For those who have never wanted to be mothers this is a source of annoyance.  Why should we feel less of a woman because we’ve DECIDED not to go forth and multiply?  But for those who have always wanted to be moms and seen year after year go by and no answer to this prayer, it is particularly painful.

This Mothers Day I had a kindness paid to me that brought tears to my eyes.  I paid no attention to the accidental Happy Mothers Day greetings and I steeled myself against the “oh honey, one day”s.  But a friend came over during the chaotic time of greeting in our church service and said “Happy Mothers Day my love”.  I started the standard protest line and he shut me down – “You’ve got two dogs to mother don’t you?”  I felt myself flush, grateful for being understood and appreciated for who I am and remembered with such gentleness.  “Happy Mothers Day to Juju’s mom”.

I’ve come home just now after having spent much of the day lounging with my mom in her sofa (she didn’t want to leave the house – I tried!) to grateful jumps and a crate full of poop to clean up.  Lola was given some ham yesterday and it hasn’t sat well with her.  She doesn’t get a lot of pork in our house.  As I bent unquestioningly to the task I reckoned, hell, I guess I am a mom.

Walking Naked

Isn’t it amazing how two animals of the same breed and from the same parents can be so different?

Take Lola.  She LOVES to be naked.  Julius sees it as a violation of all things macho and canine – the core values he stands (and pees) for.  Yesterday they were trimmed low low low (to the noyaz as a Caymanian would say).  Ready for the Summer heat and to combat the insect infestation that comes with rainy season.

Take this morning’s walk…

Lola is all smiles and ready to go show off her haircut…


Lola prances along like it’s a catwalk… “See mama?  See how the haircut makes me look like I’m smiling?  Isn’t that funny?  Cuz dog’s don’t smile right?”

She dances and pounces, chases other dogs and pulls to the end of her leash.  “Mama try this angle!  What about this one?!  Aren’t I just too cute?!” (Julius – ” Expeditionist Brat”)

But not so my mortified Julius.   He is determined to turn his back to me until I give in and take him inside to hide his shame.  I’m lucky I got a shot of his face!

Don’t you love me? Why do you do this to me?

But turning your back has other disadvantages… and leaves nothing to the imagination.

Please don’t tell him! He’ll never speak to me again!

Pre-requesites for a husband

Further to my post yesterday, these are the qualifications that the successful (lucky) candidate will possess.

Now, for those of you who KNOW Julius, please allow me the time to clarify that I don’t want a psycho, possessive, cantankerous old fart who follows me everywhere I go, checks my phone and watches me sleep (and shower) with a sharp tendency towards violence.  This song is definitely about Lola.

Dressed in White

Little Miss Wish-I-Was-Single

In the fresh morning air, just before what is considered a decent hour I had a visitor.  A little white hen peered over my door frame and through my coffee steam.  Gave me a good once over, looked me up and down, in my own house.  The dogs were quiet, still sleepy, Lola on my lap and Julius spread out at my feet.  They didn’t bat an eye.  She was the colour of cold cream and just as cool, her stare unswerving and assessing. She moved from me, dismissive, to stare with fascination at first one dog and then the other, turning her head to the side to better capture them.  Before today I would never have imagined that a hen cold be curious!

I could just hear her hennish thoughts – lucky animals, safely owned and fed, not having to scratch for a living. There was the wistfulness I have only ever seen in a married woman and mother looking into a single girl’s life – the freedom of one’s own thoughts before laundry and nappies and a husband takes over.  In a hen.  And then, as if to prove my thought true, in fluttered her Rooster, young and proud and a right pain in the ass, tormenting and squawking her out of our moment.

She fluttered off at full hen-speed with him pestering behind her tail.  Following her with my sleepy eyes I caught a flash of white.  A long anticipated one.  A single, clean, pristine orchid bloom.

Smiling and grateful sat I, coffee in hand, writing about the Light as my morning glided on dressed flawlessly in white.

Up Close – Caly-puss and Anji-puss


Name: Caly-puss

Age: About 1 human year

Intrests: Extreme kitty sports involving consumption of strings, destroying furniture, milk.  Really likes milk.

Looking for:  New ways to keep my man interested.  Leaning towards jumping out of the third floor window on to a ledge while he begs me to come back inside.  But only after the stitches are out.

Anji-Puss (Darth Vader)

Name: Anji-puss, also known as Spook and Darth Vader and Pooter

Age: About 15 human years

Intrests: None.  Go away.

Looking for:  Didn’t you hear me the first time?  Beat it!


Last night I went out to dinner with my parents and some visiting delegates who were here for a conference my mom was hosting for work.  She was telling the story about her Grand-puss in Kingston.  The table got to hear her explanation that she has two Grand-pusses; one in Kingston and one she is caring for at home while her son, my brother, lives abroad.  A lady across the table, with the sound of England in her speech, said “Well, I am now caring for my Grand-gerbil now that my son is gone to Sweden.  We aren’t doing very well are we, darling!”

Now.  We have had this conversation.  Grand-gerbils and Grand-pusses and Grand-Lolas and Grand-Juliuses – they are much easier to babysit.  So I was proud of my mom (so well adjusted!) when she said as much to the table.  I had been holding my breath.

So the Grand-pusses had some issues this past week.  Caly-puss, the Kingston silver tabby Grand-puss, swallowed a ball of string.  Bloody animal swallowed the whole thing after playing with it and beating it half to death.  See why I prefer dogs?  They eat sensible things… like their own poop.  Bro found her, after coming home from a long shift at work taking care of human bodies, with a lump in her tummy and a cord hanging out of her mouth.  And rushed her to the kitty hospital.

She had to have surgery and he made the arrangements with narratives to home via blackberry messenger.  Poor guy sat waiting for news of his second daughter’s fate having to deal with his sister on the phone every five minutes with “What are they saying now?”  “Is she out yet?” and when he’d had enough “Why aren’t you answering me?”

Turns out Caly-puss somehow had one end of string tied around her tongue and the rest of it had perforated her bowel.  Whatever that means.  They tell me these things like I should understand.  But this much I got – my niece is sick bad.  All this from his girlfriend after he’d quit talking to me.  So they opened her up, fixed what they could, sewed her up and wished for the best.  The family was then assured that kitty bowels heal really quickly.

My sister, here at home, was impressed upon by Anji-puss, the home Grand-puss, to send a message.  She must have been so worried!

The best part about this whole thing is that Anji is the Darth Vader of cats.  More likely to have sent a “DIE BEATCH!!!!” message if she’d had any say in the matter.