Canuck'd

Sly sniffed at the keys,

but Little Fur could see already,

that they were all too small,

for the great lock on the door of the giant’s cage…

“Lucky for you,

emerald eye…

Run far and fast before my teeth close the throat,”

said the black cat…

He gave a terrible snarling growl of laughter and rage…

“A true thing, caged, does not know itself,”

Gem hooted softly…

— in little fur: A Mystery of Wolves by Isobelle Carmody

Last night,

as she was making home-made,

grapefruit flavoured,

jelly beans,

Starshine said,

Mama,

If we weren’t in this house,

I don’t think the Canucks would be doing,

how they’re doing…

So it’s a good thing we’re still here…

At that moment,

I was laying,

in the living room,

on my back,

trying to nurse,

a post-season slam,

into the boards,

and I sent a smile,

to everyone,

on the team,

air mail…

Seems as though,

a dormant issue,

was aggravated,

in the last 72 hours,

over Alain Vigneault’s comments,

about how Raffi’s upper-body injury,

became a lower-body injury,

when I split a gut,

fell off the couch,

and cracked a rib…

Now the thing about ribs,

is that referred swelling,

and pain,

can create symptoms,

mirroring,

cardiac arrest…

So on Sunday night,

some hours after,

the Vancouver Canucks pasted,

the Chicago Blackhawks,

3-2,

I woke from a dream,

and couldn’t breath…

The left side of my body,

seized up,

and my heart felt like a rock…

But I knew I wasn’t dead yet,

because I had my finger,

on a pulse,

and the insight,

to Stay focused,

on the breath…

With each inward draw,

I surrounded,

my major organ,

with oxygen,

and managed,

to get through,

a rough night…

When I saw the double-double,

that went down,

between Torres,

and Seabrook,

I thought to myself,

Buddy,

You said you were going to play smart,

and I believe in you…

Little Gem,

sitting beside me,

said,

Mama,

Raffi needs Manny,

to settle him down…

When you’re working wisely,

with horses,

you only use as much energy,

to push back,

as they are pushing at you,

not more…

Or you won’t get anywhere,

in the long run…

When using hits,

to create energy,

or take energy away,

you have to do the math,

on your own containment,

especially in all,

the grey areas,

which include,

but are not exclusive to,

behind the net…

If the force you’re putting out,

to remove others from the game,

results in taking yourself out,

for the duration,

forget consultation,

with a sleep specialist,

an appointment,

with your inner accountant,

is what the situation,

is calling for…

Watching your team,

hoist the silver,

from the stable,

isn’t what the doctor ordered,

but it’s what can happen,

if a conservation plan,

for trotting the puck,

to home base,

isn’t in place,

come round two…

While the three of us,

were checking out the gallery,

behind the lens,

Little Gem wondered,

Mama,

Do you think Raffi buys his suits from Moore’s???

I nickered,

and said,

That’s highly unlikely…

#13,

and all of his buddies,

are working towards,

being men,

who can hunt,

their power suits,

through extremely diverse,

departments,

by following elements,

of classical dressage…