This is from Mouse...Yep it's me!

Hi everyone,

We just wanted to send you an update on Mouse.

She's getting old now, very grey in the muzzle. We still remember the day we brought her home and so much has happened since the last letter we wrote, it’s on page seven of success stories. But that was not even half of her and our adventures.

After the last letter we went for a walk to the Woodstock Rare Breed Dog Show in the park. We were getting really nasty stares as we passed dog after dog, Mouse walking on her leash like a dream, loving every second. I thought it was because of her breed. Sitting in the shade of a tree, watching a class in the ring, an older lady straightened me out. The owners didn’t like her muzzle on. Turns out they disagreed with the law.

“What about the police?” I asked. “They wouldn’t dare here, look around.” She was right not a muzzle in sight. Off it came and Mouse started to do the “Snake , wiggle, crawl” thing as she pushed her nose through the grass. “What Class is she in?” she asked. “Oh!. She’s not in the Show. We just rescued her from the Pound.” That thought nagged at me for the next hour, so I registered her.

I hadn’t done a Show since I was a kid, but in the Ring we went. She stood perfectly for the Judge, hands running over her body, checking her teeth. Then we ran around the Ring, stood our dogs and Mouse won First in the Alt Class. We were about to leave when we were called back. Seems all first place dogs were Judged against each other. First the inspection then the run around then pose for the Judge.

Mouse won Best Alt in Class, then went on to win Best Alt in Show! Perfect confirmation. I cried!

Life went on in Woodstock and life with Mouse got better. She went everywhere with me. Then one day we had to move. My wife being a Priest meant doing that sometimes. We ended up in the most southern village on the Canadian mainland. Little place of about 2000 people on the north coast of Lake Erie called Colchester, just south of Harrow (do Mapquest with that cam view to see where Mouse lives now). The Rectory, Church and Graveyard are at the corner of Bagot and Sullivan Street’s.

The people here in the Village took to Mouse in a heartbeat. “Get that stupid @&$($!% thing off her face!” Was the first thing I was told. We started taking Mouse for a walk around the Graveyard, down to the lake, across through the little park. After meeting several people with dogs we got told, “Take that @&$($!% leash off her! She’s fine.” So very apprehensively we did. It was great, like a giant off leash. The people and animals that Mouse met ranged from loose Dogs to Cats on a leash, sniffing Ferrets to playful Horses. Walking three feet from wild Rabbits she just sniffed but Squirrel’s belong in trees and she puts them there on command and with great enthusiasm. Cow’s on the other hand seem to represent an extreme mystery, not sure why. The Police came by (Town of Essex and later OPP) and met Mouse. As the place that we walk her is (actually a private cemetery) enclosed by the Ravine, Lake, Park and a fence, they had no problem as long as she was under control. After watching me give her commands both verbally and with hand signals, they wave as they drive by now. (Don’t tell anyone)

The Harbour is one block from our house and I decided to walk on the beach one day. Again this is a secluded spot and the Harbour Master told me she was fine off-leash. We walked on the beach, I threw a stick. Mouse ran after it, picked it up then spit it on the sand. Then started her customary, intense, front foot-jumping, chest pumping, maw opening, loud bark of “THROW THE BALL! THROW THE BALL!” She doesn’t get the difference between ball and stick and she has never grasped the concept of fetch. So we/I run up and throw it again. After throwing her stick into the water, she waded in, got her feet wet and promptly turned around and got another stick! This went on for six sticks with each one being thrown closer and closer to shore. She finally waded in and got the stick. I slowly increased the distance from shore until Mouse should be swimming, but no, Mouse could definitely not swim. She only has one coat and very little fat. Pure muscle is heavy so she wasn’t/isn’t buoyant enough. So she just sinks and then explodes out of the water by jumping off the bottom. Needless to say we keep the stick in the shallows now. But she loves the beach. This leads us to her latest adventure!

Because we live overlooking the harbor, we decided to buy a boat two years ago. At the beginning it was going to be a 26 foot power boat but because of the price of gas it became a 24 foot Cruiser/Racer sail boat! We had never sailed before but took some lessons and were off. It took encouragement and patience (and a custom gang plank) but pretty soon we had Mouse going on and off. Then we had to control her from walking on and off other boats in the harbor, not just ours. She sleeps down in the V-berth where she wraps herself in our sleeping comforter during the voyage, coming on deck occasionally to sit and gaze over the water at some distant patch of land or island. Dreaming while having to cross her legs (we’re going to solve that with fake turf in the cockpit where it can be washed out).

And then one day we went on our first overnight trip. We sailed to Pele Island with LaSalle Mariners Yacht Club. Forty sailboats jammed in tightly together at Scudder’s Marina in the North Bay. We arrived late that night and went to Scudder’s Bar and Grill for dinner. We could eat with Mouse on the back deck. Beef on a bun was the special. We ordered three as Mouse hadn’t been fed yet, hold the bun on one please, it’s for our dog. Drinks were two glasses of red wine and a bucket of water. When dinner came we got a surprise. It was the end of the dinner hour at 9pm, so the kitchen staff, because they loved meeting Mouse, sent out half a prime rib roast the size of half a cow (okay I stretched that but it was huge), that was left over on a platter!

The sailors and staff fell in love with her so now we just book our reservations in Mouse’s name. We have been told to carve her name in the wooden dock beside our boats name (it’s a tradition). This is a rare honor, boat owners only carve their boats name. We walk to the bakery and get fresh cinnamon buns for breakfast and meat filled pastries. Then share them walking back to the boat. We go to parties with Pirates. Visit with Politicians (MP’s and MPP’s). Entertain at Sunday Schools. Enthrall staff in banks and have hob-nobbed with celebrities in Stratford. Mouse has been in four newspapers now, twice on TV and is seen at every important and social function that we go to.

We get many a strange stare wherever we go. From disbelief at the 71 pound Pitt Bull that climbs out of the small 24 foot sailboat (most have Yorkies on 40 footers), wearing a black and purple life jacket big enough for a cow and runs down the dock for green grass, ignoring everything in her way. To the Timmy window where she barks at them if they take too long! I know, I know but if the Doctor can tell my father-in-law that he is entitled to Scotch at his age (84) then Mouse is entitled to a Timmy. From terrified people who believe propaganda, to excited babies she is ever the loving, gentle, patient, caring, playful friend that we were looking for.

Thank you for allowing us to have this wonderful character in our lives. And Mouse thanks you for giving her the same!

Rev. Christine Downey, Ben Bright and Mouse

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