EPISODE 487 SO WILL YOU, PLEASE, SAY HELLO TO THE FOLKS THAT I KNOW (WE’LL MEET AGAIN)


EPISODE 487     WE’LL MEET AGAIN…SOME SUNNY DAY

alan skeoch
Dec. 17, 2021



Now is the hour - 103 and trending, Dame Vera Lynn eight decades after her  debut


Vera Lynn, Singer Whose Wartime Ballads Uplifted U.K., Dies at 103 - The  New York Times

                           WE’LL MEET AGAIN!  

                                I mean it…we will meet again.   

                            DON’T KNOW WHERE,
                                No idea where…perhaps for coffee
                        DON’T KNOW WHEN! 
                                Certainly not today, perhaps not for Christmas…Easter, maybe…springtime!
                         BUT I KNOW WE’LL MEET AGAIN SOME SUNNY DAY
                               Yesterday, the sun burst forth.  Not that great day in the future when the pandemic is over..
                               Yesterday All that sun did was cast dark shadows’’’skeletal tree shadows.  No joy there.
                      KEEP SMILING THROUGH LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO
 





                       SO WILL YOU, PLEASE, SAY HELLO TO THE FOLKS THAT I KNOW

When Vera Lynn sang this song…so many times…tears ran down the faces
of the toughest soldiers facing the invasion of Europe in 1944.  Men who knew
they might never see those blue skies that would DRIVE THE DARK CLOUDS FAR AWAY.

Our situation is perilous.  Not as dark as 1944.  But as dark as those Spanish Flu years of 1918
and 1919.   Most of us will survive the pandemic which swirls 
around the planet.  Many will not.   20,000 Canadians have died…as have 800,000 Americans.
And  all of us have seen our lives turned upside down.  A great many sit alone in tiny rooms, others
are locked in condominiums fearful of their own elevators that could harbour Delta or Omicron variants of Covid 19.
There is safety in isolation but that is not the natural state of human beings.  We are social animals
and this virus has turned us into something different.


So let’s call on Vera Lynn again.  Let’s be reminded that
these days will pass and new days will come where laughter
will replace fear.

If you cannot find the song tucked away in your computer,
then just sing it yourself.  You know the tune … we all do.


We’ll Meet Again

We’ll meet again
Don’t know where, don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again
Some sunny day
Keep smiling through
Just like you always do
‘Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds
Far away
So will you, please, say hello
To the folks that I know?
Tell them I won’t be long
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song
We’ll meet again
Don’t know where, don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again
Some sunny day
We’ll meet again
Don’t know where, don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again
Some sunny day
Keep smiling through
Just like you always do
‘Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds
Far away
So will you, please, say hello
To the folks that I know?
Tell them I won’t be long
They’ll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song
We’ll meet again
Don’t know where, don’t know when
But I know we’ll meet again
Some sunny day



SO WILL YOU, PLEASE, SAY HELLO TO THE FOLKS THAT I KNOW

DATELINE   DECEMBER 17, 2021
LOCATION    PORT CREDIT, MISSISSAUGA

Marjorie and I had planned to board an Air Canada jet bound
for London England tonight.  Take off was 8.30 p.,m.  It is now 9.30 about
the time our steward or stewardess would be serving a fancy hot meal on
fancy plates with real silver looking knives and forks.  We had paid the extra
charge of Special Economy seating.   We would be reading for a while, talking
about meeting our eldest son Kevin who the had not seen for two years …longer than that.
Then we would stretch out as best we could, close our eyes and dream.  When the sun
came up we would land in Heath Row where Kevin and his children…now adults…would meet
us with squeals of joy.  Morgan and Nolan would grab Marjorie by each arm…Kevin and I would
shake hands…father and son.  Kevin has arranged for us to stay with all the family in a luxury house
on a 500 acre English estate where the horse barns harbours 18 horses.  Pets.   In the late afternoon Marjorie and I along with Morgan
would visit the Thrift stores selling second hand clothing and used books.  We might have fish and chips
in Muswell Hill or Crouch End.  Cheek to jowl with Brits.  Then later a pub supper with a couple of pints of best bitter.
Laughing all the while.  Wrapping presents…some silly like the jug shaped like a rooster for Kevin or the puffy jackets
for the girls.   At some point we would meet their boyfriends for the first time and hear  stories about Lancaster University
where Nolan attends or the veterinary college in Edinburgh where Morgan is discovering how to keep cats purring, dogs
barking, and horses neighing.    And Kevin would be making his special Swiss loaves of bread that look like giant
 knots.   Days would pass in sheer joy culminating in Christmas day when Marjorie would be able to give the 3 suitcases full
of gifts to all around the Christmas tree.

Then another jet would land with our other son Andrew and his family…Julie with her daughter Molly and son
Jackson.   Their arrival would trigger another round of hugs and kisses and pints of best bitter or bottles of
fine wine.   A moment in history …planned and paid for.  A holiday like no other.  A time that
could never be replicated.  Gone with the winter wind.




THE GOOD TIMES ARE NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.   I cancelled our flight a few hours ago.  Much of the ticket will 
be refunded although Air Canada will deduct a $600 handling fee.  No problem.  Running an airline in
a pandemic is a costly and losing proposition.  

Just to take that flight would be risky.  Our Prime Minister … our Premier  … our Medical Profession ..all urge us not 
to travel.  We have taken their advice. Instead of good times we will be wearing our masks, practicing visual measurement of social distancing,
avoid meeting other people,  And all this is done in hopes of better times when
 WE’LL MEET AGAIN, 
DON’T KNOW WHERE,
 DON’T KNOW WHEN
BUT I KNOW WE’LL MEET AGAIN 
SOME SUNNY DAY

alan skeoch
dec. 17, 2021
 












EPISODE 487 STORY OF TWO DOGS AND A POND WITH THIN ICE;;;december 2021, skeoch farm wellington county, ontario

EPISODE 487   STORY OF TWO DOGS AND A POND WITH THIN ICE


alan skeoch
Dec. 1545


THE ICE IS STILL THIN….


THIS PICTURE IS MEANT TO BE UNSETTLING…THE DISC PLOW STANDS WHERE ONCE THE BARN STOOD.   A BARRIER BETWEEN
THE TWO PONDS ON OUR FARM.  THREATENING.


DANGER  DANGER  DANGER!!!   SOME DOGS CAN SMELL DANGER AND KNOW EXACTLY WHAT TO DO WHEN DANGER LOOMS AS IT DOES ON
THIS THIN LAYER OF EARKY DECEMBER ICE ON ONE OF THE PONDS ON THE SKEOCH FARM.


DATELINE:  EARLY DECEMBER 2021
LOCATION: SKEOCH FARM, WELLINGTON COUNTY, ONTARIO

The pond ice was thin.  Winter had not quite arrived when our dog Woody tested
the ice and at the same time tested our nerves.  Sunshine, crisp air, a moment of freedom
combined all at once and Woody took a risk.  Big risk.  Deadly risk.  He walked on 
the ice.  Seemed firm.  So he kept on walking far from shore.  He walked out to where 
the December sun had thinned the ice.

Marjorie saw him standing out there.  She knew the adventure was about to turn into
a tragedy.  “Woody, get off the ice!”  Woody looked at her…head up.  And that flexing
of the neck muscles was enough to break the ice.  Woody fell forward and no matter what
he did he could not get back on the ice.  Each time his front paws got a grip another shard 
of ice split away. 

Marjorie screamed and began edging out on the shore ice which split and sank.  Woody]
was splashing around.  Too far away.  “Woody, oh, woody!”  He could do nothing but break 
little panels of ice with his front paws and then submerge and pop up to try again.

Then a very strange thing happened.  A wonderful thing.  Woody’s step sister, Failla, heard
the cry.   She was exploring the margin of another pond over the hill where the barn once stood.
Faila knew in a split second that there was trouble;  And she bolted.  She came full speed
to where Marjorie stood in the shallows with the ice shards.

She did not even stop for guidance.  She ran out to Woody across the firm ice to the
disastrous ice which now floated in pieces around Woody as he thrashed around.
Her speed across the ice reduced her weight on the ice.  She reached Woody.  Stopped
suddenly and her weight broke more ice.  Failla was in the pond with Woody.  

“Oh dear…oh dear!” Marjorie screamed thinking both dogs were about to drown.  And that
could have been true.  But Failla had other ideas.  She began deliberately breaking ice in
a straight line towards the shore.  Towards Marjorie.

Woody is a Labrador dog.  He should be a natural swimmer but.  He was terrified by deep
water.   Woody was having a  panic attack.  He would not…he could not…see
trail of broken ice.  And Failla knew that.  She knew Woody needed more help.

She took the lead showing him the way out through the broken ice,  Failla then turned around and swam back to Woody. 
She showed Woody the way through the shards
of ice to the shore where Marjorie stood.  Speechless.  She saved Woody’s life.

Now many readers know dogs.  Dogs have many strengths and a few weaknesses.  One strength is
the ability to sense danger.  Failla was a long distance away when she heard Marjorie scream.  Failla
could not see the pond where Woody was splashing in his panic.  But she knew instinctively rear
she was needed and she hurtled back to the disaster scene.  More that that.  She did not stop to
assess the situation.  She plunged in…smashing her way across the ice… smashing a trail for Woody to escape.
And even more that that Failla then swam through the channel she had made.  A rescue dog.

If that was Marjorie doing the rescue she would get an award…perhaps even recognition by
the Governor General of Canada.  A medal with a ribbon.  But there was no reward except
this story.  Failla will never be forgotten.  There is an intelligence there when I look at her eyes.
There is love there as well.

alan skeoch
dec. 2021

Begin forwarded message:


From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
Subject: Pond story
Date: December 15, 2021 at 6:43:09 PM EST
To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>






This is Woody.   His half sister, Failla, keeps an eye on him.




“Woody, did you know the ice on the pond is still very thin?”
“I know now, Marjorie.”
“Did you know your half sister was willing to risk her life just to save yours?”
“I know now, Marjorie.”
“Next time stay off the ice until full winter has arrived.”
“Right you are.”
“What reward can we give your sister, Woody?”
“She can share my bed by the fireplace.”
“She likes the truck seat better….”


“That’s me, Failla, on the left.”
“Who is the other dog, Failla?”
“That’s my brother, Woody, —’ he’s not heavy, he’s my brother ‘ ”


Sent from my iPhone


EPISODE 485 JOHN SKEOCH THRESHING 1927 NEAR KEILLER, SASKATCHEWAN

EPISODE 485    JOHN SKEOCH THRESHING — KEILER, SASKATCHEWAN —circa 1927— Part 1  

(Part 2 — putting flesh and blood into the John Skeoch threshing photograph..coming Episode 486)

alan skeoch
dec. 2021

This is a copy of a panorama photograph of John Skeoch (on tractor) and a circa 1920-1927 threshing on his farm near 
 Keiller , Saskatchewan ,  What is the full meaning of the photograph?  Needs a  story 
fleshed out below the pictures.   Skeoch story…Coming Part 2 Episode 486 — a story both personal and broadly historical


EPISODE 484 NOTICE FRONT AXLE…ROCKS TO BEAUTIFY BACK YARD SWIMMING POOL

EPISODE 484    NOTICE THE FRONT AXLE…ROCKS FOR BACK YARD SWIMMING POOL


alan skeoch
Dec. 2021

FOSSIL LANDSCAPING is currently building a swimming pool complete with decor
from the Niagara Escarpment…heavy decor.

No small task to load and unload these three rocks…heavy enough to raise the front axle, motor
and Sean the driver and loader.

(Note:  Very short story today…Just getting over the ordeal of my computer getting locked because the computer thought I
was being hacked…just too many attempts at password which I had forgotten.)

Fwd: EPISODE 486 BRUNCH AT THE KING EDWARD HOTEL WITH THREE PIGEONS



Begin forwarded message:


From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
Subject: Fwd: EPISODE 486 BRUNCH AT THE KING EDWARD HOTEL WITH THREE PIGEONS
Date: December 5, 2021 at 4:18:35 PM EST
To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>



“Dad, Julie and I have a special Christmas present for you and Mom.”
“What is it?”
“Something really special Sunday morning.” (Dec.5. 2021)”


What you are about to read is something you can replicate…if you want to do
something special…something luxurious…something expensive.


THERE will come a time when we will look back on 2021 with amusement. 

 “Why was everyone masked back then,  grandma?”

How would I answer that question?

Answer #1“There was a disease that threatened every living person on earth.”
Answer #2  “We wore masks just so we would not get a bad cold that was going around”

Take your pick….the hard answer or the soft answer.




Our families….with and without masks






EPISODE 486   BRUNCH  AT THE KING EDWARD HOTEL WITH THREE PIGEONS

alan skeoch
Dec. 5,2021



Life goes on in spite of the Covid 19 epidemic.  But things are not
quite the same for humans.  Pigeons, however, carry on unchanged.

THE SILVER LINING IN THE DARK CLOUD OF COVID 19


Let’s not dwell on the bad times in which we are now living.   Nice things can happen.  Our daughter in law, Julie and our son Andrew

invited us for brunch at the King Edward Hotel on Sunday December 5….right when covid variant panic was at its peak (I hope the peak).
Why would readers be interested in our joy?   I am writing this episode with reader in mind.  Nice things can
be carefully planned even in bad times. 

“WE have reserved a table for brunch at the King Edward Hotel..our Christmas treat.”


OPPORTUNITY FOR YOU AS WELL…BOOK A BRUNCH AT THE KING EDWARD HOTEL
-LUXURY BRUNCH…EXPENSIVE BUT SUPER ENJOYABLE



“HOW much will it cost?”
“With tip the cost gets close to $200 for two people.”
“Expensive!”
“High end luxury setting with great food and personal attention…a great treat.”




Andrew Skeoch
“Where are all the people…this is just a few weeks before Christmas…streets should be jammed?”
“City of Toronto core has been emptied due to Covid 19 and variants…our hotel was even closed
for a few weeks.  Even now we are only busy on week-ends.  The pigeons are staving.”

PIGEONS…FIGHTING OVER A PIZZA CRUST BELOW




EPISODE 486 PETS; DAISY AND SONNY…’THERE IS A TIDE…WHICH TAKEN AT FLOOD”

Noe:  It is so nice to know that many readers are remembering their pets with joy and sadness.
Keep the joy on the high tide.


EPISODE 486     PETS;   DAISY AND SONNY…


Alan skeoch
Dec. 2021



SONNY AND DAISY


THERE IS A TIDE…WHICH TAKEN AT FLOOD

Remember that line from Shakespeare where Brutus speaks

“There is a tide in the affais of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and miseries,
On such a full sea are we afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.”
    (William Shakespeare ‘Julius Caesar;

Some  fragments of Shakespeare  got locked in my mind.  And this is one of them.
The meaning I made of the tide reference went far beyond the trials of Brutus..
T o me the meaning was as clear as sunshine. There is a tide in our lives…moments
of optimism, adventure, excitement,   Moments that only come on special occasions.
Moments that disappear like the waves of the sea. Moments that must be grabbed
or they will be lost forever.

Our family life with Daisy and her son ’Sonny’ were days of that full tide.   Just how full
I never realized until we talked about it…Marjorie and I…today.  We realized how
lucky we were to have summer holidays, two children, a used van and second hand pop
up trailer those special summers when the ’tide’ was very full. You  will see three dogs
because we adopted poor little Maxie from a retiring farmer who planned to shoot him after
the farm auction.  Like  SAM the cat, MAXIE lived with us for short spell.  But those days…those
years…were full tide years for SONNY  and  DAISY.





\SONNY AND DAISY on a raft in our farm pond (swamp)





WE Decided to take the boys and dogs across Canada on two successive summers
First we headed to Newfoundland.  Our target was L’anse aux Meadows where the
Vikings landed a thousand years ago. To get there we bought a pop- up trailer which
slept 7…4 humans, 3 dogs,

Both DAISY AND SONNY spotted something strange on the east coast waters when
a huge pod of little capelin fish beached themselves rather than be eaten by
the whales waiting in deeper water.







Sonny liked fast food milk shakes.



 copy taken from John Steinbeck’s ‘Grapes of Wrath’ … He pictured farm families fleeing
the poverty stricken farms of the 1930’s.   We were not that desperate.


Daisy must be off exploring…see Sonny and Maxie







We found a bunch of slightly damaged lobster traps and carried them to a small
fishing village. “No, we don’t want them…we get  government grants for lost gear.”


Back home we gathered a gang of kids, five bikes, and two dogs
for a race to the farm.  These were wonderful days caught when
the tide was high. 


Enough?   More than enough some readers must be feeling.
And some readers might feel that SAM THE CAT was neglected as
I only seem to have the picture of him on top of the refrigerator .
Well…I found another pic of SAM (below)


EPISODE 485: WALKING ON EGG SHELLS (the state of teaching today)




EPISODE  485   WALKING ON EGG SHELLS  (THE state of teaching today)


alan skeoch
Dec. 3, 2021


Teaching today is like walking on egg shells.  A slight slip.  An innocent well meant slip can ruin a career. Today I was
Surprised and pleased to receive a note from Jean Graham whose Grandson Logan found this story on the internet. It was written 25 years ago when I was head

of history at Parkdale Collegiate Institute.  I made a mistake with an envelope that could have ended my career.
Thankfully, Ron Graham, was our vice principal.  As I said, teaching today is like walking on eggshells. READ ON;.


Alan Skeoch, about 25 years ago…conducting a Jane Jacobs walk into history


The hall was empty…or nearly so.  I was late for class.  A boy came around the corner.  My oh my, did he look forlorn.  Teachers notice these things.  Body language…facial expression…shuffling…troubled.  That kind of thing.

 
“Things can’t be all that bad, son.  Cheer up.” 
 
And I tapped him on the shoulder with an envelope I was carrying.
No reaction.  Just a blank, maybe slightly hostile stare.  Maybe even a bit of a surprised look since we did not know each other.  No time for much more dialogue.  I was paid to teach and the class was waiting.
 
Sounds like a non event.  Wish that were so.
 
Ron Graham, our Vice Principal and a good friend, came to see me right after the class.
 
“Boy, I saved your ass, Al!  Took the whole period to do so.”
“What?”  I thought Ron had a joke in mind for his comment made no sense.
“I spent the last 45 minutes cooling Larry down.”
“Who is Larry?”
“Didn’t think you knew him because he certainly did not know you. He burst into my office claiming you hit him in the hall.  Wanted to know your name so he could report you to the super-intendant.  Perhaps even the police.”
“Get off it Ron.  Who is Larry?”
“You may not know him now but you would certainly have known him
if he had laid the charge.  Assault.”
“Ron, I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Some kind of joke?”
“Nope.  Serious, Al.  Really serious.”
“Who is Larry?”
“Larry is a new kid here.  Troubled kid.  Unhappy home life.  I guess you would call him a loner.  He does not trust teachers or the world in general for that matter.”
“What has that got to do with me?  Don’t know the kid.”
“OK.  Did you meet a kid in the hall before class?”
“OH, that kid!  Yes, met him…seemed depressed.  Tried to cheer him up.”
“Did you hit him?”
“Come on, Ron.  Do you think I’m stupid? I tapped him good naturedly with an envelope.  This envelope. ” (The envelope was an invitation to speak to a University Women’s club about teaching if you can imagine.)
“So you did touch him.”
“Hardly  a touch, Ron.”
“Enough for him.  He did not know you.  Thought you had no right to even speak to him.”
“Get off it, Ron.”
“Any witnesses?”
“No, we were alone in the hall.”  Now I was getting worried.  Alone in the hall meant it was my word against this student, this person called Larry.  That spelled trouble.  Teachers walk on egg shells, especially male teachers. 
“So what did he say?”
“He said some weird teacher with  a brush cut and a blue suit jacket hit him in the hall near Room 225, your room…your haircut…your jacket.
And your hand it seems.”
“So?”
“So, suppose Larry laid a charge with the super-intendant and it got down to the Toronto School Board.  First thing that would happen is you would be hauled out of class…told to leave the school and not return until the case was investigated.  Many people would believe you are guilty of assault.  You even admitted touching Larry with that envelope.  Touching and assault can become synonyms.  So you would be out of her on your ass.  Doesn’t matter that you have taught here for twenty years and have a great reputation.”
“Do you mean I would be considered Guilty until proven innocent.”
“Right.  OSSTF would provide a lawyer.  The case could take a year or so and all that time you’d sitting at home.  People would wonder why. Some would assume you are guilty.  Even when the case was rejected, as it would be, you would have that stigma forever.”
“You’re scaring me, Ron.”
“Don’t worry, I got you off.”
“How?”
“I asked Larry to sit down so we could have a chat…to cool him down.”
“And?”
“Larry,” I said, “Mr. Skeoch and I come from different generation. From friendlier times.  We try to treat people in a friendly manner.  We have different values you might say.  Your hat, for instance.  In my time, students removed their hats in the presence of teachers.  Larry then took off his baseball cap so I knew I was getting through to him.  Larry, I continued, I think you are making a mistake. Mr. Skeoch has never hit 
a student in my time.  And he has never sent a student to me for discipline reasons.  Never.  I went on and on.  Made you sound like a prince of the church. Finally asked Larry if he would consider withdrawing the charge.  And he did.  Saved your bacon, Al.  You owe me big time.”
“Phew!”
“By the way, I have enrolled Larry in your Grade 12 history class for  next semester,” said Ron with a mischievous grin.
 
Larry turned out to be a really nice student.  He got to like me.  Greeted me in the hall often.  He became cheerful.  Not sure whether he punched me on the shoulder saying “Morning, sir!”.  I like to think that happened.   I also wondered what could have happened had Larry not withdrawn the charge.  I really did owe Ron Graham  a beer.
 

I taught at Parkdale Collegiatte Institute for 31years.  Never missed a day for sick leave.  Loved the job.  But this incident was never far from my mind which is a sad thing to say.  Walking on egg shells….trying to teach at the same time.  How much social distancing is necessary?  At what point does the distance become so great  that the

joy of teaching ceases?


alan skeoch (circa 1995)
 








EPISODE 484 PETS: SAM ARRIVED…COLDEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR

EPISODE  484      PETS:   SAM ARRIVED…COLDEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR



alan skeoch
DEC 2, 2021




There exists a population of feral animals almost cheek to jowl with those Humans call pets.
One bitterly cold January day SAM arrived at our kitchen window.  He was a stray cat. Perhaps
at one time he was someone’s pet that nobody wanted.  Outside in a bitter cold snap, Sam
realized his only hope was to get inside someone’s house. Why he chose place I do not know.

Marjorie opened the back door and in He bounded.

“What will we do with him?”
“He is unlikely to  get adopted at the Humane Society…he is
too old.”
“Maybe he wants to live with us…at least until the weather changes.”
“Do you think he will get along with the dogs?”
(We had two Labradors)
“Let’s just see how he works out.”

SAM…ON TOP OF THE REFRIGERATOR

Sam settled right in. Stayed with us for a time then died at the farm where
he is buried in our pet graveyard on the old barn hill where Marjorie has
planted hyacinths.

We only have  one picture of Sam…rather unusual.

EPISODE 473 PETS: DAISY AND THE TSREADMILL

EPISODE 473   DAISY AND THE TREADMILL

alan skeoch
De. 2, 2021

Daisy was one of the greatest animals we ever had.  When she died people cried all over Canada.  One man even
sent a note saying he had to pull over on The Trans Canada Highway because of his tears.  Not many dogs get
national attention like she did.   You wonder how that happened. right?   Well the story is a bit on the long side but 
here goes.




DAISY…THE DOG WHO LOVED THE TREADMILL

The idea of having a dog running a treadmill never occurred to me.   I bought the treadmill as an artefact.
As I cleaned and repaired it, our Labrador dog Daisy kept hanging around.  Nosing around.  So I started
a conversation with her.

“Daisy, did you know that dogs life you once ran this treadmill?”
(Swear she knew what i was saying.}
“A dog would be led up the back while the brake was on…the  treadmill would be hooked to
a fanning mill or some other farm implement.”
(Daisy looked deep into my eyes…and listened.)
“Do you want to give it a try, Daisy?”
(I swear she nodded…stood at the back  of the treadmill.)
“Hop on, then.”
(And she did.  Honestly, that was all the training she had. Zero…)
“Holy Samoley, Daisy, have you done this before?”
(She looked at me  almost saying in the silence…”How could I , you got me as a little pup.”)
“Let’s see what happens when I take off the brake after hooking the handle of a fanning mill to the treadmill…
just give a minute or  two.  There,all hooked up.  Are you ready?
(Daisy wagged her tail….I know you won’t believe that but she did.)
“Ready? 
(And I released the brake…the treads began to turn as Daisy set her paws up and down.
And everything worked …the fanning mill was ready to clean grain using dog power…the 
old machine rattled and the graim sifter shook.  And Daisy wagged her tail looking
right into my eyes.   Who will believe me?)


Daisy as a little pup.



Daisy on the dog treadmill…all ready to go.


See Daisy sitting on the ground at Sherwood Hume’s Family Farm Festival years ago.
The treadmill is hooked to a small fanning mill.   All that Daisy needed was an
audience…perhaps some applause.

THEN I MADE A BIG MISTAKE…WISH I HAD BEHAVED BETTER
(“A fine example of a dog owner”…I say that sarcastically)

We did many shows with Daisy but the best and the worst was at the Hume
farm.  You have already read the best  Now for the worst. You will not think
well of me after reading but you will still admire Daisy.  Here goes…

We had a big crowd around Daisy as the treadmill revolved and the grain screens
shook.  Admirers all.  Even, I suppose, the woman with the grim face admired
Daisy.   But she sure did not like me.
“How could you treat a dog like that? It’s brutal.”
“Never thought of that.”
“How long will she have to do that?  Abuse!”
“I let her work until she drops…” (Wish I had not said that…but the words just blurted out.”
“You abuse her like that until she drops….”
“Yep.  And when that happens I go to the dog catcher or Humane Society and get another dog.”
“Well….we’ll see about that. I’m going to get the police.”
And away she went.

Daisy was still turning the machine.  Her tail was still wagging.   Strange that the
woman did not notice.   The crowd hooted….applauded  either the well intentioned woman
or my smart assed comment.  It did not really matter.  This was showmanship at its
best.  

Did the police come?  No.  We had a group of volunteers, mostly women, who blocked
the  front of the farm that day lest we had unwanted visitors.  Some men were drinking
beer which posed a far more serious situation than Daisy’s work on the treadmill.  We did
not have a liquor licence which would have led to big time trouble.  We wished the beer
drinkers knew that.  They were like me…well intentioned but stupid.




Daisy





THE DAY DAISY DIED

AT the time we had Daisy I was a small time journalist and broadcaster on CBC radio.
Not big time.  My radio slot was around 5 to 10 minutes. Usually my stories were received
locally in Southern Ontario.  But sometimes they went out to a wider Canadian audience.

“Would a story about our dog Daisy be OK this week?”
“Why Daisy?”
“She died this week.  Dog lovers know how that hurts.”
“OK”

So  I wrote a radio script about Daisy.  It’s still around our house somewhere
as is a tape of the broadcast.   I tied Daisy to our daily life.  “Daisy was more like
a person than a dog.  Marjorie’s farm relative would have said ’she were the  knowingest
dog that ever there was.  (musical words She loved us.  She was there as the boys
grew up.  And we loved her back…took her wherever we went.  She knew as many swimming
holes in Ontario as we did.  One year we parked Daisy and her big pup Sidney on an island
in Lake of the Woods  while we took a canoe bound for another island a few miles distant where
there were blueberries and maybe a bear or two.   We were way out in the open water when one
the boys looked behind us.  Spotted two black dots in the Water.

“Mom, look back there…I think Daisy and Sidney are following us/“

So we turned around and got both Daisy and  Sidney into the canoe.  With
difficulty.   I say this so you  would understand just how close Daisy was
to our family.  She did not want to stay behind.

Daisy died yesterday. We will miss her.

My story was much longer.  While telling the story I noticed the studio was
empty.  Usually my producer or radio host or technician were present.  Not that day.
I was all alone.  Where were they?   Crying in the sound booth behind my back.
I was crying as well.  My voice broke a couple of times.  Tears do not come easily
for me but they sure did the day that Daisy died.

I often think of Daisy.  And the image of  that radio listener on the Trans Canada Highway
comes to mind as he slipped to the gravel shoulder to wipe his tears.  Any person who cannot 
love a dog seems slightly less than human.  I mean a dog like Daisy.

alan skeoch
dec. 2,2021