Hobo update

Several hundred dollars later, Esmeralda has been vaccinated and spayed.  This morning, despite her elegant elizabethan collar, she managed to pull out a stitch.  As I write this the girls are at the vet to have a stich made and get a larger collar.

And, yes, they still delude themselves that they are getting Esmeralda ready for adoption in another fine family.  They keep calling her "No Name" because they don't want to become attached???




Our visiting 4 years old granddaughter likes this cat very much...it seems reciprocal.

Bye!

He was a prankster and the life of the office.  He was a sportsman and very fit.  Three weeks ago he began coughing.  Two weeks ago he was diagnosed with a phase four lung cancer.  Last saturday he died.  Tomorrow his funeral will take place.  He was 67 and retired a few years ago.
I'll bet he already has pulled a few fast ones up there.
Petre, requiescas in pace.

What a relief

 According to the Sakatoon Star Phoenix. scientists from Warwick and Sheffield universities have solved a crucial philosophical problem: what came first, the egg or the chicken?  After serious research they come to the conclusion that it was indisputably the chicken since the egg can not be produced without a protein, OVOCLEDIDIN-17, found only in the chicken's ovaries. (The Daily Telegraph and montrealgazette.com widget)
I'm sure tonight the whole world will sleep better.

Waxing poetic

                                               In another life, I lived on the island of Montreal  and I had sent this to some kind of a contest.  I did not win.                                                      

                                                                                                      Ma Ville

Place Royale, 

Westmount Square, 

Rue de la Capitale.Trafalgar Square!

Mademoiselle des Pins avait une rue 

Que Pine avenue on désigne; 

Monseigneur Mountain avait une rue ...De la Montagne on la consigne!

Du bilinguisme victimes, 

Soustraits à notre estime.

Fourmilières du Centre-Ville, 

Ermitages du Mont-Royal, 

Tire-bouchons de ma ville, 

Antiquités de la rue de l'hôpital.

Belle, chapeautée de montagne, 

Ceinturée de fleuves,Des adolescents elle a la hargne et, parfois, la timidité des vies neuves.

Douée de tous les vices, dotée de toutes les vertus, 

L'église et le presbytère voisinent le cabaret et ses danseuses nues 

Quartiers riches, quartiers pauvres, quartiers ouvriers, 

Parterres et bitume,

Mais partout, diminuant l'amertume 

La verdure de l'orme ou des peupliers.

Masures, châteaux, gratte-ciel, 

Fumées, miasmes, croix dans le ciel, 

Montréal, ma ville, mon home, 

Demeure une terre des hommes.

Paul Costopoulos

Mai 1970

1919?

I have just finished reading Margaret MacMillan’s Paris 1919. My son gave it to me at Christmas.   I read it one chapter at a time because it is heavy fare and needs digesting in between helpings.

It relates to the so called Paris Peace Conference after the 1914-18 Great War and was supposed to end all wars for a millennium.  It gave birth to the League of Nations, several international organisations and, although unwittingly, to the 1939-46 war (in the Pacific).

While reading it I thought to myself that it could just as well have been titled U.N 2010 or the Great Gerrymanderers.  All the wheelings and dealings, borders drawing and moving made then find their likes in Potsdam, Yalta, the current goings on at the Security Council, in Palestine and Israel and in so many other places that they all  can not be listed here.

When will we learn to stop playing God with nations and let people sort out their problems their own way?  After all the white race, the former colonial powers should, by now, have learned that they nothing but mess things a little more when they try to impose civilization and democracy on peoples who never asked for it and could not care less.

Of course when you have stuck your neck out you must be careful not get it chopped off when you tuck it in.

(Margaret MacMillan,Paris 1919, six months that changed the world, Random House, New York, 2001-2002, preface by Richard Holbrooke.)

The Hobo

She appeared in our backyard around June 30th.  She peered through our windows and even wanted to come inside.  She took to spending the night on our sundeck at the back of the house.
Last Friday she was clearly famished.  My daughters' hearts melted, they gave her cat food and water.  She shook while eating very fast.
Saturday morning she was there...and got some food again.  Sunday night she was taken into the house in a carrier.  Today she is going to the veterinarian, until next Saturday the girls will stick posters around the neighbourhood.

Should nothing happen, as most likely will, I guess the temporarily named Esmeralda, will have found a new home with a taby, Valentin, and two other females, Catherine and Capucine.  All neutered and declawed as she will be as of tonight.  Her wandering days are over.
Around here, 1st of July is moving day.  Many people unfortunately don't bother packing the cat...so our shelters are crammed.  This one was lucky to come across Nadine and Nadia.
She does have some resemblance to a Cornish Rex although she carried no papers with her.  A real hobo.

Derelict

Well designed, quite esthetic and ergonomic...but useless.  Just after the warranty expired it sputtered gave up a a plume of white smoke and went into a deep coma. 

The Canada wide chain store whence it came from referred my daughters to a repair shop with much expertise with these machines.  After a few days, the shop called back, the machine was fixed and a clean bill($$$) of health was given.

Home they came, the grass they began to mow.  After a few laps, a puff of white smoke (now we are not  at the Vatican and no Pope was being elcted) came out and the machine went dead once more.

Now it lies amongst the ferns, a monument to poor workmanship and planned obsolescence, until some ecological way is found to get rid of it.

Ave, amici

To all my U.S. friends and visitors I wish a Happy 4th of July.