Just before Christmas, seniors at Thompson View Manor received a surprise gift. The manager, Seanna Sampson, had come around asking if there was anything we needed.
My first inclination was to tell Seanna that there wasn’t. But after a moment’s hesitation I replied, “Well, yes,” and I told her of several practical items that I could use. One of them was a toy for Tanner. Then I thought of dish cloths, and a few other domestic items, one of them the everlasting need for toilet paper.
When Seanna returned with a large, colourful bag filled with the items mentioned, the spirit of Christmas couldn’t have been brighter. One by one I removed the items from the bag, each one with more delight.
When Tanner saw the toys, he expressed his thanks with a bark and a leap. Weiners on a string became his favourite. When I opened the colourful tin lid, I found some homemade shortbread made with real butter (you can tell by the colour), the cookies tucked lovingly into a cover of red tissue paper. A hand-drawn Christmas card was included.
You know, I’ve written about the spirit of community in Ashcroft before, but I must do so again. Thank you so much, E. Fry, for that TLC that proves it once again.
The Ashcroft and Area Christmas Hamper Committee would like to thank all the community members for their donations of time, money, and non-perishable foods. We are thankful to each person who contributed in any way; there are too many to mention by name.
We packed 166 hampers for those in need in the communities of Ashcroft, Cache Creek, Clinton, and Spences Bridge. As volunteers, we are happy to provide this service, and are also thankful for the community spirit and support we receive each year.
Christmas Hamper Committee
While I walk through the park with my master, my good smeller—plus carefully-placed canine feet—allows me to overstep your piles of poop. I can tell by the size of your poop that you could reach one of the many doggy-poo bag dispensers, tear one out, and give it to your master.
You and a few of your companions are dropping what my master calls “landmines” all over Ashcroft. The name landmines is a good one, because your (and your buddies’) droppings carry deadly parasites, one of which I saw eat the retina out of a child. Since children play all summer in the Millennium Park, that very thing could happen here in Ashcroft.
You have been seen dropping these landmines all over town, and it is now up to you to bark at your master, and remind him not only of the filth, but the danger of leaving your droppings lying around town.
Listen here, fellow puppies: don’t let yourselves be humiliated. Bark at your master. Think, for example, of a little old lady’s horror when she arrives home after a walk in the park and finds your excrement all over her shoes. She now has to clean her shoes, her car, and her carpet. Gross, rude, and unfair.
My master, who has arthritis and fibromyalgia, finds it hard to bend down, yet to save a child’s retina or the grief of our elderly citizens having to wash their floors for the safety of their grandchildren, he collects three to five piles daily. He says it’s okay when he collects my piles, because it warms his hands, but when he collects yours (which have become cold) his hands freeze even more.
Please bark at your masters. Poo bags are everywhere. Ashcroft is not a shi**y town, but it sure looks that way lately.
Russell Erhardt (pug-shitzu)
Dale Erhardt (master)