One thing I knew for sure was I didn’t want a female, miniature, long haired dachshund, and that’s exactly what Frieda is.  When I wanted to have kids, I always wanted two girls, and instead got two boys, so life’s funny that way isn’t it?  Ya just never know what’s gonna happen next.

Now, however a terrible sadness has descended as my only brother, dear Freddie, is dying, and so it’s horrible to deal with that, and especially during this corona virus business.

Frieda’s job, besides being the female namesake of Freddie, is to divert us all and bring dachshund joy into the day.  So far, the diversion part is working great as she makes puddles and piles of crap anywhere and everywhere, so one is always walking around in fear.

And the joy is definitely there as she and Louie will do that adorable wrestling over the same toy where they each have an end of it and are doing a tug of war, growling.  She also does cute stuff like gently bite my nose, however that’s less adorable after I’ve seen her helping herself to one of the cats’ turds.

Social distancing is all well and good, however I’ve been able t o stay current with friends by making dates to meet and walk along the Mission Creek Greenway.  We walk half an hour each way, get caught up, and go home satiated.

In the last blog I’d mused perhaps I’d killed my dahlias by putting them into the greenhouse too early and indeed, maybe half of them show no signs of life.  But I got a bunch more from my friend Lynne in Osoyoos and hope to have a grand showing of them this summer.

My cousin was going to come from Germany this July, and now I suppose that’s off.  I can’t imagine the stress of people who’ve booked halls for weddings or family reunions.  It’d be wonderful to have a crystal ball to see when all of this will finally and mercifully end.

The one positive thing about this is you can phone a friend at any time, and guess what, they’re home and are free.  Though in Kelowna the weather’s very nice and I’ve been spending more time out in the yard as the sun’s lovely and rejuvenating.

We’re told to head out into the fresh air, and I think it’s good advice.  Yesterday Nicky said do you hear the frogs down in the pond?  He also pointed out the interesting sounds a crow was making in the tree as he worked.  Nature helps at these times.

Because when you look around you see the trees don’t give a rat’s ass about covid 19, they’re sprouting leaves and blooming away.  The dandelions are starting to dot the lawns, and my apricot tree has the usual sparse blooms indicating another disastrous year of apricot growing.

As we know, some things are predictable, and others aren’t, and so we have to try to be brave and roll with the punches.

I guess the destruction from the two cats and one dog wasn’t enough, as I now find myself the owner of a small female dachshund puppy which I named Frieda.  I’m pretty sure you’re well-aware of my total lack of impulse control by now, so this probably isn’t coming as any kind of a surprise.  When the world goes to Hell, I buy a puppy.

Louie is now seven, very overweight and sedentary, so I thought what better way to exercise the dog than to get a little companion for him.  It turns out, however, that Frieda is quite content to lay on the dog bed with Louie, so now I have two sedentary animals in my home.

To her credit, when I go out with them, Frieda likes to run around and act like the five- month-old puppy that she is.  However, despite being that age, she then runs into the house and does her business.  She appears to have no clear understanding of how the outside, not the inside, is the bathroom for dogs.

The cats are extremely angry over the new interloper because she’s already learned from Louie to bark at them when they come or go through the pet door.  George made short work of her puppy stunts as all of a sudden I heard her yelping and realized he must’ve given Frieda a swipe.  After that she kept her distance.

But I suppose by the time all of this Covid 19 stuff ends, a lot of people will have had their lives altered in major ways.  If all that happens is that I’m saddled with an overly small dachshund for the next fifteen years, I’ll consider myself fortunate.

I feel so bad for small business owners and their employees right now.  And I hate thinking about the poor people dying alone in hospitals or seniors’ homes.  Whenever I go to the grocery store I think of how brave it is for the people to come to work every day.  Unlike healthcare workers, they didn’t sign up for this level of danger.

I pray we can educate palates to eschew foods such as bats, rats and pangolins. And like everyone else going nuts at home, I also hope that at some point this whole shut-down will end sooner rather than later.

And then when it does end, we have to wonder what the Bay, Holt Renfrew, Winners, and all small retailers in malls will do with their out of season clothing.  I imagine it all has to go into the landfills, along with the plastic bags we’re all using when we get groceries.  The pollution from the waste after this ends will be immense.

I’m fortunate I have the kids in the basement as I can cook and bake for them, as well as for my old mom.  For myself I research and make a lot of keto dessert items as I don’t want to emerge from this thing a hundred pounds heavier than I already am.  You’d be surprised at how decent keto marshmallows actually are.

I may have killed my dahlias as I put them into pots and into the greenhouse about two weeks ago, and it’s been really cold at night, so I wonder if they’re going to make it.  Why I do these things, I do not know, other than to go back to the original premise that I have zero impulse control.