Owning a dog, any dog, is rife with its advantages and disadvantages. Small dogs can curl up on your stomach and are easy to travel with (advantage), yet they have delicate bones and nervous personalities (disadvantage). Big dogs can accompany you out on the land and are usually good with kids (advantage), yet need to be taken out and walked more (disadvantage). I mention this because of an awesome experience I just had and, if it weren’t for having to drag Sophie out to pee, I would never have been outside.

I was just telling a friend that seeing the Northern Lights up here is pretty common. Most of the time, though, they are just brief splashes of pale green or white which could be mistaken for a cloud (if you could see clouds at night). Nothing too spectacular. This, of course, isn’t always true. On occasion you can get completely blown away.

Tonight when I first headed out there was the characteristic ‘bat signal’ shooting up from the mountain across the field…not an entirely new sight. However, as Sophie ran and did her dog thing, I just watched the lights grow and spread until the sky was completely lit up. There was the typical ‘smoke signal’ thing bursting from the apex of the mountain which moved just enough to allow you to imagine some sort of mythical campfire. The rest of the sky looked like a star-studded leather shoe which was cracking at its seams…like knives slicing through blackness…letting the various shades of the crazy spectrum peek through.

Last year in Pang. I had to stand like this for about 10-15 seconds to get the lights in...not as easy as it sounds!

Last year, in Pangnirtung, there were often spectacular nights; I often saw the ‘bat signal’ and its accompanying dancing ribbons. In fact, a friend used to go out often to try capturing that perfect picture. I would love to be able to do that, but you need a pretty amazing camera – with a tripod – to do it. These next pictures were taken by Sarah McMahon in Pang… (note: my face is blurry because my eyeballs would have dried into flaky puffballs if I didn’t blink a few times!)

This one's my favorite...

Anyway, the lights here seem different…or at least they were tonight. The overwhelming sense I got in Pang was that I was in some sort of midnight rhythmic gymnastic tournament – the lights curled and flowed just like one of those ribbons. The ones tonight reminded me of the tip of a flame. If you look closely, the edge is a different colour and you can see how the difference in temperature actually makes the air currents run in a different way.

Tonight, the lights were like flames…green at the base, then moving to pale blue with just a wee hint of pink at the ends. Very cool. It looked like a fire in a breeze; a candle the moment before it snuffs out.

So thank you, to the dog, who pried me away from this computer to see the sights.

Competition? I think not…

...on the hunt...

Miss Thang before the snow really started

Oh, and an old friend sent me this link that I absolutely have to share…all about polar bears, and all made to make you laugh. Enjoy!

Well, pooey…I know that word is unnecessarily child-like and ‘clean’, but who knows who surfs through this site; I will try to keep it PG.

Anyway, the news in town is that the polar bears have moved in and have started to appear around the houses. Keep in mind, now, that it’s not hunting season and that I live on a small island. On one side of the community is open water (no bear amphibious attacks, though) and the other is fenced in will a mountain that isn’t too far from my place; creeping overland and across the open space seems to be their favorite method of approach.

Even though I knew they were around, I figured that taking the dog out really close to my place would be ok; I usually stand underneath a street light across the street and let her run around to do her business and stretch her legs. I didn’t go as far this time – I actually stayed on the road – but the bylaw officer who was on a constant patrol of the back of town stopped me anyway and said I should go inside.

I just wanted to include the aforementioned information because about 3 hours later, I could hear the crazy roaring of machines and trucks trolling around out there…and bear tracks about 100 meters from my place. Ok, so it was a small bear, but it was still a bear. Ahh!

Polar bears in the town are a huge problem, but polar bears from afar can be quite an amazing sight to see – one that I had looked forward to witnessing today. About a 2-3 hour boatride from here there is an old whale carcass washed up on shore, and it’s just ‘ripe for the pickins’ (that is, of course, if you like eat maktak, meat, and organs…some do). The bears have taken ownership of this one and there are close to 30 of them out there on a regular basis. This is particularly note-worthy since they are animals that don’t pack a lot.

Interesting fact? A group of bears is called a sloth or a sleuth, but I can’t find a name for a pack of polar bears. Would it be the same? Personally, for a collective noun, I think a ‘murder of crows’ is the best one…or a ‘storytelling of rooks’. Ain’t language fun?

Anyway, the wind picked up throughout the night and there’s a blizzard howling out there now (at least there was at 8 am when we were scheduled to leave), so it looks like I won’t get to see the crazy site. Perhaps I’ll get another chance.

Many people here talk about how smart the bears are. Smart in a weird adaptation sort of way. Somehow, they know when hunting season starts and scoot their hind-parts out right before they’re in too much danger. Crazy, right? Polar bears hunt, they don’t scavenge, which makes them dangerous creatures.

Qikiqtarjuaq is basically there in the lower section of this circle...wish I could figure out how to include an arrow!

…and check out this map…Qikitarjuaq lies right at the southern tip of their roaming grounds. Certainly didn’t have to deal with this issue last year! They’re moving south and east from Greenland as the ice breaks up, and they’re hungry!

As for those who get all ‘agitated’ with the idea of polar bears actually being killed, this is an interesting article. After reading the first paragraph, I was sure it would be another ‘jump off the reality bandwagon and onto the unrealistic conservation vehicle’, but it was actually a well-rounded article. The comment section, however, shows the true colours of a lot of people who have no idea what it’s like to live up here. Bears are not an endangered species here, and the most recent ‘Greenland Study’ (in the 90s), is flawed.

Anyway, enough about the politics of hunting; I just wanted a few pictures today.

How is it possible that the makers of A&E’s version of Pride and Prejudice got Mr. Collins just so greasy and smarmy – or perhaps obsequious is the right word – as is in the book? Or perhaps all of those words fit. Regardless, they definitely got Mr. Darcy just right; Colin Firth will forever be associated with such a gentleman.

And how is it that I can sit here and watch that whole movie yet again? To Siovone, if you’re reading, I miss the cucumber sandwiches!

So, what’s new? Oh, I wish I could find my battery charger…it’s been gone for weeks and I’ve had some great opportunities. First off, I’ve decided to make a pair of my own kamiks. Not bad, right? I’m not sure how much need I’ll have for them after leaving the north (what with, perhaps, the PETA-swarmed south), but it’ll be great to have them here.

Actually, I think one of the drawing points of making your own kamiks it that they are sure to be riddled with inperfections…learning by doing, right? I must say, though, that my mom has prepared me to a certain degree. Apparently my stitching is quite exact and even (though my cutting skills leave something to be desired).

Imagine these, in purple, just above the knees.

For those who don’t know, kamiks are the traditional Inuit footware; most people would think they are just the sealskin (or caribou-skin) boots, but there’s more to it than that. Underneath there could be several levels of duffel – unfortunately, for those who don’t know what it is, I can’t find a satisfactory picture on the internet of the full-on boot (or a way to explain what ‘duffel’ is). Mine will go up just about the knee. I’ve included a picture of the ‘undershoes’, but I think I’ll make mine with a nice fleece or sheepskin. Those, covered by designed knee highs, form the base.

Knee-high white duffel boots with fur and sealskin (?) kamiks.

I had originally wanted a red duffel boot, but the colour I was set on never appeared at the local Co-op. When I tried to order it from Winnipeg, I found that red is only carried in the thin stuff (and, of course, the nasty dyed fur). Therefore, I’ve decided to just do a lot of decorating in red. I wish I could post a picture! Soon enough.

I think I’ll be able to get a few tanned sealskins from one of my students and, if not, I’ll be able to get some from a tannery in Winnipeg – though they would be considerably more expensive.

Anyway, new subject. My dad’s pancakes. Today, since I had the morning time, I decided to try making my dad’s famous pancakes. For the past # of years I have had to rely on the ‘add water’ mixes if I wanted something like that on the menu. Let me tell you, I real thing tastes better, but in my kitchen they just turned out dense and heavy…and left a lot of dirty dishes. Boo.

More news? At the end of next week I’ll be taking a break and heading first to Iqaluit, then on to Ottawa. Woo hoo!

“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated…I hold that, the more helpless a creature, the more entitled it is to protection  by (people) from the cruelty of (humankind).” – Mahatma Ghandi -

Ghandi was an awesome guy. On his scale, how great is Canada as a nation? On a whole, how do we treat our animals? Have we progressed ‘morally’ along our life path? Also, is a ‘pet’ considered an ‘animal’? Perhaps in some households, but in others they’re simply considered little children.

Usually, when I see quotes like this, I agree whole-heartedly; humans can be so cruel to animals with no regard, whatsoever, to his/her affect on another living creature. I must say, though, I have no problems squishing a spider or baiting a rat trap. I know Ghandi would be the kind of guy to ‘be one with everything’, but I still categorize animals in a hierarchy which places a dog over a rabbit…and I just don’t like bugs and vermin. Does that mean that there’s a vacuum in my morality cache?

Looking at it closely, I understand what he means. It caught my attention because, in my experience, it’s easy to be cruel without realizing it…to be cruel when attempting to do just the opposite. I know this is kind of twisted, but this is what got me started thinking about it: Sophie.

Sophie is a St. Bernard – a dog with a gentle nature and a love for the outdoors. Though I’ve been trying, I don’t think I’m giving her the home she needs – even though all the major elements are here: the environment, the health care, the food, and the love. But if you have to work during the day and it’s reached full-darkness by 3, what are you going to do at 5? Sure, you can take a walk…but that takes 20 minutes at the most. I can’t go outside of the town because of the polar bears (and being alone). I’m stuck.

Then there are the dogs of the north. The ones that are born and bred to be outside – some working, some roaming as family scouts when out on the land (the stockier scragly-looking ones are quite popular for this). But is someone morally bereft because he/she leaves her dog outside overnight? Sophie is always kept inside and, on a certain level, that’s cruel.

I don’t know. I wish Cesar would steer his tour up north sometime – according to my twitter account, he was signing books at a Pet Valu location in Toronto yesterday. I need some help!

Patience. That’s what I’m missing.

Earlier this evening I was sifting through some old pictures, and I realized that I had a shot of each of my dogs when they were only 3 months old. Gryphon, the pure chihuahua, is the only one that looks the same – and even that’s a stretch.

Check out my first furbaby, Scarlett, when she was queen of the household (pre-Cesar).

Scarlett at 3 months

Next came Gryphon. At nearly 2 years, he still only weights a whopping 5 lbs.

And, finally, the monster who I can no longer lead (Cesar, help me Cesar!), Sophie. By now - 6 months today – she must be at least pushing 70 lbs.

One of my students found out her dog gave birth to a litter of 5 pups and she wanted to pass one along to me. Don’t worry mom, I said ‘no’…

When I first moved to Qikiqtarjuaq, Scarlett, Gryphon and I were greeted with a scragly black dog; he sniffed and snorted, but basically just made sure that I wasn’t creating a disturbance in his area. That was fine…he just seemed to trail around the area and keep the kids together and away from the polar bears.

So ugly he's cute!

He was one of those dogs who was so ugly he’d gotten turned around to being cute again…not quite as bad as this picture, though!

Anyway, his name is the Inuktitut word for ‘Little Guy’, but I can’t quite remember what that is. You see, I called him ‘Ummikmak’ – the Inuktitut word for musk ox. To me, his matted fur just like a hide of one of those northern animals. ‘Umi’ for short.

Today I found out that Umi was hit by a car last Friday. I was wondering why I hadn’t seen him around. I miss him.

UPDATE: I got this picture from Dora, my student and Umi’s owner. I’d never actually seen his eyes before this picture!

Umi