I came to the check-out at the grocery store with a few more things than I had planned on getting, among them three large-sized cans of soup on special, and a few cans of salmon. “I always forget my bags,” I told the cashier. So I had to buy one at least, for five cents each, and I wondered if one would be enough.

“I could put it all in one bag,” she said, “But are you sure you can carry it.”

I was, I confess, momentarily at a loss for words. And then a little voice inside me asked something along the lines of, do I really look that old?

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My first response to the scientific “news” about the remarkable ability of dogs to pick up on how people are feeling, as well as other dogs, was something like this: “So what else is new?”

Other people whose comments appeared under on-line news stories about the recently published scientific study in the prestigious journal, Biology Letters, also expressed astonishment: haven’t dog lovers known that for a very long time, probably since the first prehistoric woman many thousands of years ago saw an orphaned, flop-eared, little wolf-pup, picked it up and instinctively cuddled it protectively, and took it home.

Yes, a woman – I know I’ve read somewhere it was likely the maternal instinct that started the whole process of wolf-to-dog domestication, leading to the many various breeds of domestic dogs there are now. And, by the way, that same source noted the endearing, flop-eared puppy characteristic many dog-breeds retain in maturity is a throw-back to that hypothetical, fateful moment.

And then there would have been those eyes, afraid no doubt, but at the same time so hopeful of being loved, so ready to trust and love in return. Continue reading →

Hope Ness is about half-way between the North Pole and the Equator. Lion’s Head, the nearest village, is actually right on the 45^th Parallel, which makes it exactly half-way. But if you ask me, Hope Ness and the Bruce Peninsula generally have up-and-moved a lot closer to the Pole all of a sudden.

The temperature outside tonight is -14 Celsius, or 6.8 Fahrenheit, for my family and friends and millions of readers south of the border. That’s not so bad, I guess. This time last winter it was a lot colder than that, in -30 C territory. But we’re heading in that direction, with the forecast calling for overnight lows of -22 C.

At that rate, I don’t mind telling you, blowing snow with a tractor that doesn’t have a cab, is a chilling experience. But it has to be done. You – or me, I should say – can’t let that go too long when there’s “blowing snow” in the forecast for the next four or five days. Continue reading →

I can’t say I have ever had a so-called supernatural experience, certainly not like some I’ve heard about, or even the several that come to mind that involved me indirectly – like the time Noel Sullivan told me one morning at the back of the warehouse where we both worked that he had a message from my father who had died a week or two earlier in Los Angeles.

I consider myself quite open-minded: I listened to what Noel had to say those many years ago. I believed it actually happened as he described it, including my Dad’s message, and I still do. I get what Shakespeare meant when he had Hamlet say to his friend Horatio, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

But if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes that day at the Berford Lake well I would never have believed it. Continue reading →

In the vast virtual library of scientific studies surely there must be one that looked at the compelling “need to know” instinct of human beings to gather information about the state of their territorial surroundings on a regular basis:

What if anything has changed overnight? Is there an ongoing threat to the safety of the family or community that must first be dealt with before we can get on with the day as usual? Are there storm clouds on the horizon?

Such a study might conclude that humans are basically no different in that respect than other animals, that “the need to know” is a primal, survival instinct.

Aussie, the gentle, good-natured yellow Lab who also lives here, regards my rural home as his territory too. He goes out in the morning on his investigative tour of the property. That’s his routine. I have mine: I go on the computer to my favourite on-line news headline source and digitally take a territorial look at the state of my global village, as Marshall McLuhan called it. More than 50 years ago the late, great Canadian media philosopher predicted the technological revolution that has led to the immediate dissemination of information and instantaneous social communication.

So there in a virtual nutshell, I submit, is both the reason why newspapers gradually grew and thrived in the age of print, and why they’re now in decline.

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