CKNW Editorial
for August 16, 2000

There are many groups in society for whom there is no spokesperson. In my case it’s worse because so bad are the public’s abilities to understand what I’m saying, I’m seldom understood no matter how hard I try. Let me introduce myself. My name is Clancy, Duke of Deveron more commonly known as Clancy Mair. I live in a nice home with a heated swimming pool, virtually all my own, but lest you think this undue luxury, let me remind you that I am a chocolate labrador whose needs for water to swim in are only slightly less than those of a seal.

Now things have been pretty good over my long life – especially since Wendy came into my life seven years ago and this is my point – just when I’m beginning to feel my years a bit, great changes are taking place. My dad – that’s what I call him – and Woo, that’s what the grandkids call Wendy are planning changes and I simply have not been consulted.

For one thing, where I’m going there’s no pool though I’m told there’s a beach. Well, after fishing the beaches with Dad I can tell you there’s quite a difference between the ocean and my pool. No doubt my siblings all ended up in some damn duck blind chasing dead birds in ice water but I’m, so to speak, to the manor born and have no desire to become the slightest bit more egalitarian. And speaking of dead birds, I used to have a pal, Leicester, who would lay down beside be and knead my tired muscles with her claws. It felt great but she’s disappeared. She’s an ex-cat now, I’m told. Too many dead birds and some bad bathroom habits. I’m told that in Lions Bay we’re getting a new cat – a Siamese to be called Eldrick … Dad says that if you know anything about sports you’ll understand what a Siamese cat could be called Eldrick. In any event, I’m suspicious.

Now I’m a man of some dignity. Back in the eighties I actually ran for leader. “I fancy Clancy” was one of my slogans. “Get a leg up in your neighbourhood, vote Clancy” was another. I caused quite a stir, I’ll tell you. I am now retired and have a routine which Woo tells me may change.

Every morning after Dad goes to his studio, Woo and I meet Misty – she’s a lady friend who thus far has successfully resisted my amorous advances – and we head down Mosquito Creek. Here we all meet, every day – probably 20 or more of us, some more regular than others. Some of my closest pals defy description as, unlike me, they are not aristocrats. But I’m a democrat at heart and in my close group there are two what we delicately call half breeds, Zero and Bear who are Maltipoos, there’s Zero the Sheltie but there’s also Molly, Ed and Ralph. Of course there’s Boomer, a bearded collie and three of my station, Bella, Winston and Jake who are all chocolate labs. I’m getting a bit worried that we’re not quite as exclusive as we once were. And there are three golden retrievers – Casey, Bentley and Sailor and they’re aristocrats too but well down the line from us labs. Did I mention my other pal Hugo? And there’s another Bear – he’s a black standard poodle … my Dad doesn’t like poodles much.

Sometimes on these walks, Woo gets lost. One time she was so lost that a couple of young girls looked at my collar, got my number and called Dad … fortunately Woo turned up shortly thereafter. But we were worried there for awhile. I have another walk at night – promptly at 9:00 although I start reminding Woo of this about 8:30. This one is shorter. And often we’re accompanied by my Scottie friend Willie. And you know, these walks are important to an older guy – I know every single bush on all these walks – intimately. And while I limp a bit these days, somehow that limp disappears when I drag Woo, full tilt down our steep driveway off to meet Misty – she’s my lady friend in case you haven’t been paying attention.

Now there’s another thing. Dad and Woo don’t think I can understand these things. But would you believe it, they’re going away again! And just as I get settled into our new place I come back to my old home for a couple of days with Woo’s daughter Shannon and her Andrew … I like them and it will mean a bit more swimming in my old pool … then I’m off to Cindy’s place (she’s Dad’s daughter) … and I get to play with her husband Larry … he’s great and the two kids … and of course I love kids. But this is all getting a bit confusing for me. And what happens when Woo and Dad get back? Woo says that she’ll sometimes drive back to Mosquito Creek and we’ll see my pals but can she be trusted? After all, she always used to give me her apple cores, which I love, and now she’s trying to pawn off pear cores on me … they’re decidedly inferior. And she’s not giving me lollypops any more when I get stuck in the basement when they go out to dinner … it seems Woo got cross with the pet food store that sold lollypops and now I get another kind of treat I don’t like as much … even though I still bravely yelp and wag my tail so as not to upset anybody.

What’s all this in aid of? Well, I think I have some rights. And one of them is to be heard. After all what’s the point of being an aristocrat if you don’t have some influence. And I say that at the very least Woo has to take me regularly to Mosquito Creek, find some new pals for me at Lions Bay (I’ve already met a neat Newfie named Aimie) and find another pet store that sells lollypops.

I mean, after all I’ve done for my province and my family, is that asking too much?