A sleepy RoadDog wakes up for another day at Wharf Rat Rally.

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A lot of people have been asking me how Jake enjoyed this year’s Wharf Rat Rally in Digby.

As usual, our RoadDog had a wonderful time. What’s not to like about a weekend of motorcycles and people who love them, all packed together in a crowd where lots of people stop to say “hi” to a big dog with short legs. Jake even met another motorcycle-riding dog, a tiny female Pomeranian with her own black leather jacket and chaps named Tia Maria. He wasn’t excited about her clothing, but Jake always enjoys meeting other dogs.

Well, almost always. There was a minor drama during our weekend. Jake and I learned the hard way that not everyone attending was a wharf rat — what we consider to be motorcycle-loving, people-loving, here-to-have-a-good-time attendees. Some, although they pretend to be wharf rats, are really just rats.

It happened on Saturday afternoon. Steve had gone off to buy some bottled water for all of us and I was sitting on the edge of the wharf with Jake at my feet. The crowds were incredible, so we were just kind of catching our breath, when a teen boy appeared beside us with “it.” Before you get too concerned, “it” was not an rabid Pit bull or even an angry Doberman. “It” appeared far less threatening, a wolf in sheep’s clothing if you will, so I let down my guard.

That’s when the drama unfolded. One second, a Jack Russell terrier was wagging its tail nose-to-nose sniffing at Jake. A second later, the nasty creature let out a growl as it suddenly made a grab for Jake’s nose. That’s right, “it” tried to wrap its jaws around RoadDog’s face.

Needless to say, I was incensed. The teen pulled “it” away before Jake was harmed and our boy just continued to lie there looking a little shell-shocked. I went from being angry at the Jack Russell to being angry at myself for letting it get close to Jake. Then Steve arrived on the scene and was ready to hunt down the offending dog and its owner, so I had to calm down to calm him down.

In the end, no real harm was done. Jake wasn’t injured and, although we saw the Jack Russell around a few times after that, its owner seemed to be keeping it pretty close. We certainly didn’t let any other dogs get close to our boy without asking their owners about their temperaments and Jake quickly got over any lingering concerns when he met an adorable German shepherd puppy and spent about 20 minutes in serious puppy play. Throw in time spent with our friends — some of whom I might add spoil our dog almost as much as we do — a barbecue at our motel and a campfire on the beach, and RoadDog really enjoyed being a wharf rat for a weekend.

Jake, us and our wharf rat friends after our barbecue.

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Jake enjoys exploring his new found location.

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The objective of riding a motorcycle is to ride.

That may seem really obvious to some people, but for a lot of us life is about getting from place to place to do the things we have to do or at least the things we think we have to do. It’s so easy to miss the journey in the rush to the destination.

One of the greatest things about a motorcycle is that it’s all about the journey. You may take the bike to get to a destination on occasion, but most of the time, at least for us, the first choice is to ride and the second choice is to figure out where we’re going.

That was the case in early August when we decided to take a sort of mini vacation. After a fair amount of discussion about where we could go, Steve and I decided we’d travel around the South Shore, through Shelburne and Yarmouth and on to Digby. I hadn’t been to Shelburne for a few years and hadn’t been to Yarmouth since I was a child.

We also decided that, as much as possible, we would take secondary roads. There are spots where you have to pop onto Highway 103 because that’s the only route, but we tried to avoid it as often as we could. For the most part, we succeeded.

As usual, Steve rode in front with Jake and I travelled along behind on my bike. So that first afternoon — which was a beautiful sunny day — we’re driving down a road, I’m fairly certain it was in Shelburne County, but I honestly don’t know exactly where we were. All of a sudden, I see Steve put on a left turn signal, brake and turn onto a road. I quickly did the same and then I hear Steve in my ear on the intercom saying he’s sorry for the quick decision but he saw some kind of sign about a look-off or a scenic vista or something.

So we travelled down this road for a few kilometres and all of sudden the road ended, not in the usual way with a sort of cul de sac, but it just stopped. It looked like it had once gone to a building or a wharf or something, but that was gone with just slabs of concrete left behind.

The views were fantastic. The three of us walked around. Jake climbed over rocks and generally explored his new location, basically as if he was responsible for finding a whole new world. Our RoadDog is like that.

We probably stayed there for half an hour, just enjoying our discovery and our quiet time together. Sometimes it pays to take the road less travelled.

The views were fantastic.

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Jake enjoyed his birthday, the hat not so much.

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Somebody had a birthday last week.

That’s right, Jake turned three on September 11.

First of all, let me say we are not among those people who throw birthday parties for their pets. Well, not usually anyway. I’m not sure if it was all the wet weather that was getting to us and we were desperate for a diversion, if we were just having one of those weeks when any excuse to celebrate was fine, or if it might just have been a way to come up with a RoadDog topic (I admit it isn’t always easy to think of a different idea, complete with photos, every week). Anyway, Thursday was Jake’s night.

The first thing we did after work was take Jake for a walk at Miller Point Peace Park. He loves the park. He trots along quite happily, marking various trees, chasing an occasional squirrel or chipmunk, and meeting people and dogs.

Then it was back home for dinner, which was planned with Jake in mind. He had his usual sardine appetizer (they’re great for his coat), followed by a bit of barbecued steak with green beans, most definitely his favourite vegetable. As much as I call Jake a boy dog, I must admit he loves vegetables and fruit — maybe not as much as steak, but he loves them nonetheless.

We followed that with birthday Timbits. He might enjoy cake, in fact I’m sure he would, but if it was going to be Jake’s night it had to involve Timbits. Although there are three Timbits in the photo, we only gave him one for dessert and one later as a snack and kept the third for Friday night. (The candles are just for effect — we’re not letting him near anything that would turn him into a fire-eating Cairn.)

And what is a birthday without a gift. Jake got a new squeaky toy, another of his favourite things. This is an odd-shaped thing, something like an oversized jack — if anyone remembers what those looked like — with a squeaker in each, would you call those arms? prongs? ends? Regardless, it was a big hit. We’ve dubbed it Jake’s wobble. I have no idea where that name came from, I think it was Steve’s idea, but all Jake’s toys have to have some sort of name so when you tell him to go get something we have something to call it.

It certainly seemed like Jake had a great night. He played with his wobble all evening, then went to bed with a dreamy look on his face as if he wasn’t certain what he’d done to deserve all the attention, but was quite happy with it all. The only thing he didn’t really like, as you can see, was the party hat (shamelessly purchased for RoadDog photo opps). I shouldn’t say he didn’t like it — he didn’t like wearing it, but was quite happy to try to eat it until we took it away.

Timbits and party hats, what’s not to like about a birthday.

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Jake is pretty excited about meeting Santa Claus.

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Jake had quite a day on Saturday. It was our bike club’s annual toy run so it was an opportunity to ride on the bike, see his people (the club members) and meet lots of other bikers. He also met Santa for the very first time.

Now, I realize Jake has no idea that Santa is associated with Christmas. However, I’ll admit I was pretty curious about how he’d react to a guy in a long white beard wearing a bright red suit. I wasn’t disappointed.

As you can see from the photo, Jake was quite excited as Steve placed him in Santa’s arms and I began snapping shots of them. What was really funny, however, was that as I turned away from taking photos, there were at least three or four more cameras raised behind me as people snapped their own shots of RoadDog meeting Santa.

Next, it was time for our boy to put on his safety vest as we prepared to block traffic. For those of you who have never participated in a motorcycle run, club members block traffic at all intersections along the route. It improves safety for the riders and prevents other vehicles from  splitting up the bikes.

Our little trio was assigned the intersection at the monument in Mahone Bay. Thanks to friends of ours from the Valley, Jake had his very own orange and yellow safety vest, which they’d found at Frenchy’s, and was prepared to join me to do his part. Then the rain started. Just before our 1 p.m. start time, the drops began to fall, so, although he was dressed to help out, in the interest of keeping him as dry as possible, RoadDog stayed in his carrier while Steve and I stopped traffic.

It was a good run despite the rain. Our numbers were way down, no doubt because of the weather, but with only 60 bikes we still managed to raise piles of toys and school supplies and $490 in donations for the Salvation Army’s Christmas Daddies campaign.

We did, however, get soaked, so no one stayed around very long to socialize after the run. We all headed home to get dry. But as Jake rolled on his side so I could aim the warm hairdryer at his belly a short time later, I caught the look in his eyes — I’m pretty sure he’s going to remember that Santa promised him a whole box of Timbits for Christmas.

RoadDog was ready to help block traffic for his fellow riders.

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Jake was all smiles following last year’s toy run.

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RoadDog is pretty excited this week because he’s expecting a visit from Santa Claus on Saturday.

It’s hard to believe it’s that time of year again — not December when the big guy in the red suit pops down chimneys and leaves toys and treats for all the good boys, girls and dogs — but September when our motorcycle group holds its annual toy run. This will be the 22nd year for the Maritime Motorcycle Touring Association South Shore Chapter III toy run and the third one Jake has attended.

It’s one of his favourite events of the year and why not? His motorcycle people will be there. There will be lots of bikes. It starts across the street from a Tim Hortons. Plus Santa will be there. What’s not to like?

Last year, about 200 bikes came from all over to support the cause, raising much-needed donations for the Salvation Army’s annual Christmas Daddies campaign. Some riders bring toys and school supplies, while others give cash, and it all goes to a worthy cause. RoadDog loves Christmas (not because we spoil him so much, okay yes that might be why), so he certainly wants to do his part to make sure everyone else has a good Christmas too.

Motorcycle enthusiasts who want to ride with Santa, and RoadDog, should meet in the parking lot across from St. James’ Anglican Church in Mahone Bay (that’s the beige church of the famous three churches) before 1 p.m. on Saturday. From there, the ride will pass through town and Maders Cove and into Lunenburg as far as the monument. It will turn right out through town (passing another Tim Hortons) and down through Riverport, coming up the LaHave River and into Bridgewater, where it will travel across Veterans Memorial Bridge (after passing by yet another Tims) and travel on to the Bridgewater Plaza parking lot (also suspiciously near yet another, you guessed it, Tim Hortons — I can’t help it, we might have a family addiction). Bikers gather at the Salvation Army Thrift Store to give their donations and enjoy refreshments.

Anyone who doesn’t ride but wants to support the annual toy run can bring donations to Mahone Bay before 1 p.m. and give them to a club member (we wear bright yellow jackets and t-shirts) or to the thrift store around 2 p.m. Or you can simply hang out along the route to wave and honk your horn and cheer on the bikers and, of course, RoadDog. You can bet he’ll be smiling.