Rode overnight from Edmonton to Calgary on the bus last night, which should wind up my moving sleeps for this tour, and for the foreseeable future.  Bit of a bittersweet departure, actually, as I love the convenience of the bus and having your stuff close to the gig at all times.  That said, two days in posh hotels in each of Calgary and Vancouver sounds pretty appealing after rolling around North America since August.

Feeling a little fatigued, I confess.  Fatigued in ways that are new to me. The pipes are a bit strained after many shows in a row, but I’m well used to the honey-tea and Thayer’s lozenges that come with the sixth show in as many days.  Today, my right shoulder hurts and the first finger and thumb on my right hand are tender from gripping the guitar pick, I suppose.  Must be getting old.

GBS has enjoyed a few spectacular nights in the last week.  Every show Sold Out since Thunder Bay, including a rammed Jubilee Theater in Edmonton last night.  At almost 2600 seats, the Jubilee could very well be a hockey rink. 

Really enjoyed Murray’s Johnny Cash cover in Regina, and loved singing ‘She Ain’t Pretty’ in Saskatoon, myself.  Had a few good jogs with Sean and Murray at different points, but my favourite run was a solo effort that found me a new friend.

I left the theatre in Regina and started around what I later learned was the Wascana Lake.  It is bordered by a dandy trail that snakes through the woods and meadows that surround the water.  All was normal on my solitary jog and had brought myself to the middle of nowhere when I rounded a corner and was met with a small worried looking face of a wee beast.  There in the snow, looking rather chilled and nervous was a brown and white terrier type dog who seemed eager to have someone come along.

I stopped and said my usual greeting for animals, which are not that different from my conversations with people, by the way.  The pooch was very receptive and I decided to do the jog test, to see if she was interested in following, or had her own agenda for the day.  Indeed she followed and continually ran ten steps ahead of me, turned around and sat to face me and occasionally stood on her hind paws ever so slightly.  My years as a dog owner has taught me that this is canine speak for “I’m friggin’ lost.  Please pick me up.”

I obliged her and offered a few words of encouragement and had a look at her nametag that some responsible owner had secured to the dog’s collar.  “Angel”, flowed by a street address and a phone number.  I brushed Angel off and laid her back down and re-tried the jog test with the same results.  Since there was not a house to be seen for miles, I concluded that she would be hard pressed to find her way home and might benefit from a courtesy call to the owners.

I had my cell phone on me and dialed the number.  A younger male voice answered and I said something ill advised in what must have sounded dognapper-esque like, “I have your dog…” or something 24ish like that.   The young fella seemed confused and a little scared and whispered, “I’m gonna get my Mom.”

By the time the lady came to the phone I had managed to adjust my tone and politely explained the situation and that I’d gladly lead Angel to the Tour Bus and she could be retrieved whenever was convenient.  She was very grateful and said that she’d meet me at the bus momentarily.

Me and Angel finished our lap of the lake and had a few bonding moments on the GBS Bus.  Kris snapped a shot.

Shortly thereafter, a relieved lady came and Angel seemed very excited to see her.  They left and went on their way.  I must say, I was kind of sad to see her go.  She was great company for while.  I felt lucky to come across her.

Currently in the lobby of a schmancy hotel and the front desk ladies have given me a key to my room.  A few more shows till we rest.

Hope to get sent another Angel or two.  T’is the Season after all.