The world of figure skating has been very good to me.

It got me to Japan a couple of times with the ice shows. Alistair was in the audience when I guest skated the night we met. And during my vet school interview, that’s all they wanted to talk about.

Seriously. I was all, “don’t you want to know about my horses or the ferret we had?” while the interviewing professors just wanted to hear about touring in Japan and what I thought about power skating.

Oh, sure, there’s the body image issues that I’m fairly certain most figure skaters have to deal with. That whole ‘puberty in spandex’ thing will make or break you in this sport.

It can be heartbreaking to see a young skater’s body change into something that shouldn’t be seen in spandex and sequins- particularly if they love the sport like I did. Its even more heartbreaking to be that skater but, thankfully, I was lucky.

I loved to skate. I loved it so much I moved away from home at the age of 12 for half of the year to train with my mentor, Dr.Hellmut May in Vancouver. I did that every year except for grade 12.

I wasn’t the most natural skater but I worked my ass off. I was graceful and I had excellent school figures. I loved the hour I spent 2 or 3 times a day working on “patch”, learning to lean and turn my body over and over in perfect angles around perfect figure-8’s. I eventually could stand on crystal clean ice, push off on one foot and complete a full circle, coming right back to the exact same spot I pushed-off from with my eyes closed. I knew my positioning that well.

I loved the silence of patch. The work ethic required. The improvement you would see before your very eyes. I loved getting down to check if my brackets and rockers were clean, or if my edge didn’t go flat as I came back to center.

I loved it when Doc would smile during patch lessons, his coffee-in-hand, spilling onto my tracings as he would show me where he wanted my hands. His assistant coach, Faye, taught me ‘skating side up’ with my arms, which I have passed onto every single student I have coached over the years.

I also loved ice dance and competed at first with my brother, until he quit, and then with my friend, Matt. We never told Doc about this because Matt was well on his way to National medals and dancing would take away from that. Until I took Matt out doing the “Killian” one day and he couldn’t train his jumps. Ooops. We fessed up but both ended up pursuing singles careers.

I graduated high school at 16 realizing that I was a very good skater but not a great one. Canada produces so many thousands of skaters and I knew then that college would be a smarter choice.

I was an unlikely showgirl after 3 years of college. I had gained the suggested amount of weight one gains when living on their own and many shows just weren’t available for Canadians. A wonderful family friend (and my younger sister’s coach at that time) was the connection who helped get me on board with ‘American Ice Show’ in Japan.

We were a small company that stayed on-site in a little house on a fairground beneath the world’s 3rd largest Ferris wheel.

But talk about a fish out of water.

I was independent and full of confidence but I certainly wasn’t worldly. I was a heavy little girl surrounded by lanky Beautiful People, most of whom had years of show experience already. I was immediately self conscious of myself the moment I met the rest of the cast in Los Angeles.

My friend kept an eye on me. He knew my parents were kind of backwards about a lot of things so he cut me some slack. Even though I had the largest thighs and chest of the girls (the “boob girl” of our cast… nice), he never once said a peep during the twice-daily weigh-ins.

Yes. Twice daily. Because you can gain or lose so much weight in a day, right?

My friend told me I would be rooming with one of the guys. This shook me up a bit because I wasn’t so sure about having a guy for a room-mate. What would The Parents think? What if he came onto me? What if he didn’t?

When we got to our room, he started decorating his side. (We were there for 2 months, might as well make it feel like home). Even as he was putting up calendar pictures of all these different firemen I still didn’t quite get it. I just figured he had friends who were firemen. Or maybe he worked as one when he wasn’t on tour. Lets just say, he never hit on me and that was fine.

At least part of the theme of the show was ‘disco’. That gold getup in the first picture with the ostrich feathers on my head was performed to “Last Dance” by Donna Summer. Loved that routine. Didn’t love the fact that if you leaned too far to one side the weight of that head piece would tip you over but hey, learn to stand up straight.

The Japanese entertained the tall, blonde girls from California but I was usually invited out along with everyone because I’m so “genki”. The Japanese enjoyed my sense of humor, as did my cast mates, even if I wasn’t a Beautiful Person.

My second show in 1994 was on a different fairground in northern Japan, by Sapporo. My genki personality landed me the role of Sailor Moon during the character portion of the show. I signed a lot of autographs that tour but not as Tanya Koftinoff, like I had practiced as a kid. I cheerfully signed as Sailor Moon to a chorus of ‘domo arigatos.’ I was the “boob girl” in that show, too, but I had started to figure my body out by then.

I had also met Alistair just before going to Japan that time. I had found happiness and with that came a better attitude towards my own body. (Which is why those of you who have met me later in life are shaking your head, wondering where those boobs have gone.)

Like I say, skating has been good to me. I am still fairly connected and still do a bit of choreography now and then. I know that Doc would be proud to know that he taught me well- he taught me to enjoy this sport and to share it with friends & family. He taught me to work hard and focus, which helped get me into (and through) vet school. He was a leader to me and a close group of friends, some of whom became National champions and Olympians. And some of us who were just very good skaters. Whose lives were shaped by this sport. I cherish the friendships I have made through figure skating.

Even the ones with the Beautiful People.

Here I am- blogging.

It kind of feels like writing in my journal but this won’t get the juicy bits that ‘dear Diary’ gets. This will, however, deliver the gist of what goes on in my sometimes-silly mind.

Much of what goes on in there is based on my early years as a competitive figure skater. YOU go through puberty in spandex and see what it does to you.

Some of what goes on in there is based on an overactive imagination- one that led me to write mystery novels and plays in grade 3 (the play even had a choreographed disco-dance section in the middle- do the Hustle!), spend most of my non-classroom time on stage at school and produce newspapers for my classmates in professional school.

Which is also what frames my thoughts- I am a practicing veterinarian in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere. I started my own clinic a few years ago and it thrived, briefly. I just closed it for various reasons (many of which will come out in my blogs, I’m sure) and that certainly colors my world.

A large part of what will find its way through my fingers & keyboard onto the blog is courtesy of my animal companions. I’m with them more than anyone as my devoted hubby lives and works in North Dakota for 2 weeks of every month. Then he’s here for the next 2 weeks. It sucks but it pays the bills and allows us our lovely home here. Which is in the middle of nowhere, Montana.

These animals are insane. They run this house. I’m merely their care-taker but at times I do believe they love me. Somehow they have all developed personalities, voices, issues…. some are veterinary issues (Boomer, the cat, is on meds for her thyroid and I worry about her renal disease; Casey, the lab, has unilateral laryngeal paralysis on top of his aging bionic body; Loki, my grand-step-dog, is blind with mature cataracts- the silver eyes compliment her harelip quite nicely; Frankie, the paint horse, who tore ‘something’ in his chest last summer and was 3 legged lame for awhile; Cadbury, the guinea pig, has one eye thanks to Calypso, the ferret, who somehow recovered from a fractured pelvis) and some are more mental health issues (Cooper, the cat, chattering away behind my chair, is on the far side of a mental health crisis after losing the feline love of her life, Oscar, back in January; we also have a Phantom Piddler among the feline population that didn’t cease when we lost poor Oscar- you can imagine what damage a PP’s pee pee does to a house & the relationships within it). I could go on but that’s what the blog is for.

I realized, in December, when I was losing dear Oscar, a grey and white fuzzball who’d been a well-loved Fyfe for 18 years, that I was a bad patient. Maybe a good veterinarian, but a bad patient. You have to understand, some people would come to visit us just to hang out with Oscar. He was that kind of a cat/spirit.

I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to rub his back one final time and say one last “I love you”. I didn’t want to wake up in a house without Oscar. I didn’t want to look in the various cat beds where he would lay with any combination of his 3 girlfriends, knowing he wouldn’t be there. I didn’t know if I would be able to hold his paw and inject what I had to while holding it together for his sake. I wanted to blog about the feelings I had as his ‘Mummy’ and his doctor but I wasn’t strong enough to do it then. I think there is a place for these thoughts, though. So here I am.

I’ll share my love of animals and red wine & my new found enjoyment of the game of golf. We would have taken this game up years ago had I known there was so much accessorizing involved! I also love makeup and sparkly things. And figure skating. And my husband, who is just as bad at bringing more animals into the house as I am.

Incidentally, it was our springer spaniel, Cleopatra, with her southern drawl and slight lisp, sharing outrageous stories of her supposed past (who can verify them- she was a stray) who dubbed me the vegetarian finger painter. Which is what the new ferret, Luigi, assumed I was. Until he saw me cook. He was confused but he’s young and the most recent addition so lots of things confuse him right now.

Feel free to share my tales- I’m hoping some of my veterinary insight will be helpful in situations you all may face from time to time. And ask anything about the world of figure skating. I’m still connected. I just don’t do much spandex anymore.