in praise of the office cookie exchange...

A friend of mine is a brilliant foodie...and brilliant is an understatement....
So when she kindly invited me to participate in her annual office cookie exchange, I was thrilled...and terrified.

While I eschew many girlish pursuits, I like baking...and cooking in general.
That having been said, I worry about participating in these sports for public consumption.

Still, I tested my recipe -- Button Cookies as brought home many years ago by my sainted mother.
I just like them.
The aroma...the colour...the taste.
I tested them...with great success....then the official baking began.

So when the first lot (on new jazzy sheet) hit the oven...and the butter began leaching out of the dough...I was crushed. Batch two did the same...
Then I realized how to cut a quarter of a cup out of butter and we started again. Batch three was the charm. After the office lots were complete, the original batter beckoned...and with some tricky chemistry (more sugar and flour...) all was well. The other halt pronounced the default batch quite tasty...and elicited the support of friends who agreed (always consult a consultant who can bolster opinion with independent assessment).

Off I went to the official exchange...
And what I heard from all the accomplished participants was the same panic...hot ovens...tempermental recipes....panic....

Let me start by saying, the other cookies are brilliant...and when the recipes follow, I'll share 'em.

Office adventures of any sort are not high on my hit parade, but this was fun!
And rumour has it that next spring, summer and early fall there will be jam, salsa and produce just for fun! Now that's worth getting out of a cubicle for....

the letter P...brought to you by the evil muppets masquerading as parliamentarians

Where to begin, where to begin?
Pinheads springs to mind...
It's the sad hangover of having studied Political science (why yes, all the P's will appear in capitals just to underscore the point...): I EXPECT BETTER

Prorogue...glroious little turn of phrase...but emphasis on the world ROGUE in all that....

I expect elected Members of Parliament to understand the subtle nuances of Parliamentary Procedure. I'd settle for them understanding that Parliamentary Democracy differs from the Republican version in effect south of the 49th where voters do cast a distinct vote for their Commander-In-Chief then carry on casting distinct votes for all their officials until they get to judges and dogcatchers.

I expect the Prime Minister (ou Le Ministere Premier si vous parlez francais meilleur que je parles...) to behave like a leader of government...and I expect that to be immediately distinguishable from the average, sullen schoolyard bully who Pitches a fit and decides that football will be a five-down game because it's his ball...

I expect that when his minions are Permitted to appear on assorted networks offering their thoughtful Perspectives on issues at hand, they will not arbitarily spit out inflammatory terms including treason and sedition as pouring gasoline on any fire is never a Particularly clever notion.
(But clever is not a word I would ascribe to any of the People we Pay to represent our interests in Ottawa these days.) Last I checked, Canada was a Participatory Democracy where dissenting viewpoints were Permitted and tolerated. (Note: tolerance is in shorter supply than hops and common sense these days...)

While I don't typically vote Conservative I do vote...and let me be clear, I don't like most of the other options either...except the Green one...and the former Rhinos...
And sadly, you can't vote Conservative federally any longer as the Alliance movement has hijacked that option...
And just for the record, I'm reasonably certain I have cast a Conservative vote before...for Gary Filmon...a cool Premier whose son played basketball for the University of Manitoba Bisons...which I know because Proud Dad was often in gyms watching his boy Play.
I like Geddy, Lougheed and Klein...I like Bernard Lord...and Joe Clark was a big missed opportunity for this country...and a heck of an impressive statesman after the fact...
But then, they were all gentle people with manners and sense...kind of Polite...

Sweater Diplomacy is not new to me...
Manitoba invented it...when the Gary Guys (Filmon and Doer) trade wardrobes (the PC wore a sweater while the NDP chap wore a suit -- oh wait, another P...Progressive...what conservatives used to be...)
It's rather like the Principle behind Dr. Suess's Sneetches...if you remove and replace stars on the bellies of those who started with and without them, in the end, you can't tell one Sneetch from the other...

Of the P's in evidence this week, it's hard to tell what's sadder...Polarization (leaving Polar bears to Paddle while their Arctic ice sheets and the economy burn...) which occurs when zealots spin an Poisonous frenzy to Pit extreme interests against one another and Pour gasoline on a fire...

Ah, but we've neglected on big P (with apologies for the suggestion of bodily function...although the breaking of wind might be Preferable to the other hijinx in evidence this week...)

Pusilanimous...weak of timid...in a bullyish Pipsqueaky kind of way...
Parody...what we've been seeing rather than a useful, effective government...
Procrastination...a lead in to another term we've yet to explore...
Principle...not a one in evidence anywhere...Principal...what we'd like to hire Deborah Gray to come to Ottawa and be for a bit...
Paralysis...what occurs when nothing occurs...kinda like now...
How about Parallax....an apparent difference in Position or direction of an object caused when the observer's Position is changed...
And here's a tidy little Phrase...Pay the Piper. Canadian's continue to Pay the Freight while nothing but snarking and fussing occurs...
Partner...no such thing in the halls of government...not any more...
Not with Propaganda flying like holiday greeting cards...
Privateers...highly Partisan Pirates hired by some monarchy or Privileged interests to misbehave Publicly.
Public Interest...gone in one Economic Update (including -- free of charge -- one union busting backhand and a funding conundrum....)

Here's a P with Possibility: Peter MacKay. He's got a good dog...he's got nice manners...he bears indignity with grace and guts...and he's a great favourite of Condoleeza Rice (who ventured to Tim Horton's with him...)...nobody has a Draft Pete site up yet -- a measure of his integrity.

Here's another P that merits consideration...Pigs...no, no, not like that...Napolean and Snowball...check Animal Farm if the reference eludes you...check Pork barrelling just for fun....

But here's the P sure to rule the day...Pathetic...that's what it is...Pathetic...as Eeyore used to intone...

As Winston Churchill once observed, the best argument against democracy (which gives you an intriguing typo demoncracy if you misstrike...) is a five minute conversation with the average voter...but it remains Preferable to most alternatives...

i left my heart in san francisco...and met st. chad...

On Sundays, The New York Times is my guilty pleasure...although I've only ever been to New York City for a half day meeting...

But in the book section -- along with books -- there it was...something called One Day University.
Had I spent more time in classes during my final years and fewer in The Silhouette office writing articles and pasting up a paper, I could have enjoyed a full term full of classes about Linguistics.
Still, I've only ever once been asked for transcripts....the artilces got me most of my jobs.

But there it was...a Linguistics course....in San Francisco...about word origins...with a doc named Seth Lerer from Stanford. November may not be high season in the lovely city, but it is San Francisco....

When I mentioned it, my Mom said she might go too...a bonus since we haven't been able to get her to travel much since my Dad died.

My brother Paul and his fiance Chris decided to join us although we're counting down to The Lads' wedding in December...more about that later. They are way better travellers than Mom and I are. They're more adventurous...they have a better sense of direction...and they own a brilliant selection of guidebooks.

Chris found us the coolest hotel...the Hotel Carlton...

http://www.jdvhotels.com/hotels/carlton
Hotel Carlton1075 Sutter St., San Francisco, CA 94109, P: 415.673.0242, F: 415.673.4904, Reservations: 1.800.922.7586

It was an absolute find! Close to the BART lines and a nice walk from Union Square.
Mom walked it with us one night and she's a bit arthritic so it's easily doable.

They're a green hotel and the restaurant in the hotel serves a wicked breakfast that's worth staying in for much as I live for Mama's on Washington Square. There's a Rite Aid two blocks over (if your luggage goes on a side trip as ours did) and a great little grocer/liquour store deli a couple of blocks up called Sutton Fine Foods.

When you meet Theo at the desk, tell him his Canadian fan club (the one with the Hemingway cats) sent you. And let me know what you think...

So on to One Day University...
They were knew to me and while the Linguistics section got me, the other speakers I heard were great.

History: Hitler-The Man and the Mystery

Jonathan Steinberg, Penn

Astronomy: A Grand Tour of the Universe

Alex Filippenko, University of California

Linguistics: Inventing English: Where Our Words Come From

Seth Lerer, Stanford

Music: Beethoven's Ninth-the Story of a Masterpiece

Thomas Kelly, Harvard

Dr. Lerer didn't disapoointment...but neither did the others. Dr. Steinberg was brilliant...and Dr. Filippekno - introduced as the Robin Williams of the astronomy world will make you wonder why you never thought to do that with yogurt before....

But in my mind, the final speaker was the most gracious...

What I know about Beethoven, I learned from Schroeder...and candidly, I was planning to duck out.

I'm glad I stayed....

That Ninth Symphony owes its fine tradition (at least in part) to...wait for it...drinking songs. (My Dad was right...) And you don't want me to tip the hand about The Star Spangled Banner. It's hard to be the elegant gentlemen who follows the comedians but this gracious soul did just that. Look him up...

He's just scored a big victory for my trivia team! Small victory for him...huge for us...

But let me tell you about the high point of my trip...

I met two very good friends in that lecture hall. Bill and Janette are local to the area...and two of the nicest folks the Good Lord breathed life into. I met Janette on the morning break and we just hit it off. We spent much of the rest of the day together and these kind folks got me back downtown. When you're a nervous navigator - as I sometimes am - their kindness was a godsend.

The brilliant conversation was an added bonus...and we've been keeping that up!

Here's the other thing...these two have been married...a long time. They have children and grandchildren...but nothing Hollywood has ever shot matches the glow they get when they look at each other across a room. While Janette was talking to one of the speakers, I asked Bill how they met...and he got this little smile and said he'd spotted her on campus at Berkley...and that was it. And his eyes danced as he said that.

So the next time you read about bad news, remember that there are wonderful people writing good news stories with their actions every day of the week...and feel free to be one of them!!

Oh right...St. Chad...

It rained while we were there...a lot...like build an ark rain.

Still, my brave Mother joined us for a trip to the Castro to my favourite book store.

http://www.booksinc.net/NASApp/store/IndexJsp?s=storeinfo

I like the one on Market Street...which has one of the best staff of readers going!

So while we were exploring (if you liked Goodnight Moon...you'll love Goodnight Bush...and yes...that Bush...) we parked Hopalong Mom in a chair. As I was walking up an aisle, I found a book about Saints (tell me my Father ain't hanging about...and I'll tell you why I know he is...)

The first up when Mom opened the book...St. Dymphna! Patron Saint of the insane (and most offices). I didn't know there was a nun who taught my Dad who had that name...'til Mom told me. I have to wonder about a postulant who opts for that handle...

Better still...

The patron saint of contested elections (contested being the key word here...)

ST. CHAD

He was an Irish archbishop in the seventh century...never got to Florida...never voted...

Proving God has a sense of humour...although you had to believe he did...

Aunt Cindy's Other Great Fans....

Meet the senior members of the black & white brigade -- Mizzu and Memphis. If you look closely at the paws, you'll see these charming girls are polydachtyls - they have extra toes. What's more unusual is that they have extras on all four paws.

You'll also hear these cats called Hemingway Cats. Ernest kept a colony at his home in Key West and as these cats are favourites of mariners (who believe that 'thumb' lets them catch rats that elude other cats) you'll often find them in port cities.

Just after Mizzie is done rubbing her hear on her 'nip, she'll flip onto her back and kick for a bit...

Mem and Mizz won't fight over anything...they'll wait each other out secure in the knowledge that there will always be more...

Mizzu guards her treasure....and after all that adventure, there's only one thing left to do....

To the Super Sleeper!

Aunt Cindy's Magic Catnip Pouches

My good friend Cindy is one of the most talented people I know...also, she's a church lady.

That's significant on a couple of fronts: first, because she makes - as she would call them - the most incredible selections of tasty treats for assorted church events. Also, she makes sandwiches....amazing and glorious sandwiches. Sometimes, we have office pot lucks just to coax Cindy into a sandwich frenzy. She humours us.

Like all good church ladies, she has ample gifts (and patience) so when craft season arrives, catnip pouches make an appearance. At Casa del Alderman (I'll have my Spanish correspondents check the spelling) catnip pouches are always a hit...and Cindy knows her feline nieces and nephews appreciate her talents. So when I tried to do her a favour by bringing her a BoSox shirt, she played it forward and sent me home with a treasure trove.

There are no safe places to hide magic cat pouches. Zippo. Nadda. I've tried...That having been said you can get a lotta laughs out of a tabby treasure hunt....
See for yourself....

Meet Furio Beans. A dashing lad of seven or so, he arrived a few years back with the name Buttons. Like all our pals, he was an experienced pet when he landed (note to file: if you're leaving your spouse never buy your kids a pet to remember you by...your spouse's next may associate the pet with the ex and our house is way full...plus there are two little kids out there who still think kitty ran away...) He distinguished himself by churlishly attacking some of his new siblings - hence Furio after the assasin on the Sopranos.

When he's not being the crabby tabby (and he is most often a good natured character), he stalks catnip. Up, down, under...no jar or shelf is safe. But he does enjoy it...and he shares....

Fishing in the Cooper Bowl kept him busy for a full evening...and when the pouches started hitting the floor (they're hitting the ground like bags of wet cement!!), it kept the black and white brigade further busy...

So after a tough day, the next time you're trying to relax, Master Beans suggests you stick your head in a bowl...and fish for catnip....

lawn sign diplomacy

The battle of the lawn signs continues...
One neighbour gets a sign for a party...a nearby neighbour gets a bigger one....or a pair...then somebody else a few doors down gets into the fray. Where do lawn signs go to die after the voting is done?

There's a house I drive by that seems to have it right: a sign from every party...every election. It's quite civil. I wonder what the volunteers and scrutineers think about it. The first sign planter must feel a little thrill when the sign goes into the lawn. The second sign plunker to the post must think it's either the other domestic partner or they've won a convert. What happens when the third one gets there and sees the first two? Maybe Arnold Ziffel lives there and just called the offices.

This morning, the tricolour sign armada stood proudly...Conservative (Reform Lite)...Liberal...NDP. Maybe the Greens and the Liberterians are slow getting out....I do miss the Rhinos...now they were a party.

A few of us in the office know each other well enough to talk about how we vote (we're not competitive about how we poll...and we're all shrewd enough to be a bit cynical about all of the options we have). One of my favourite Conservatives (I have a large collection of Conservative friends...not so many of the Reform stripe) who is clever enough to realize that the lunatics currently running the blue asylum are not as progressive as those the overthrew offered an intriguing thought today: what if a good bunch of us vote Green? His logic was this: we're going to get the same collection of dullards we have now so if we all vote Green, it will send a message that the environment is a serious concern for Canadians.

In essence, the current crew of politicians simply want a sustainable gig (that's almost environmental) so if they see we're voting Green, odds are good they'll take up that cause. I thought that was a brilliant observation. We were voting Green to help them get their deposits back and keep them coming out to play. They seem sane and polite. We want to encourage that and clean fuel...
Plus, my friend Dan the Libertarian isn't running this time. I'd want him to get his deposit back as well....

i admit it...i'm watching the alleged debate from points south

Gee whiz, but I hope they won't take my passport for this...
I can name all the leaders -- Gilles included -- but the Canuck crew is blessedly boring (except possibly for the fellow who cribbed from the Aussie PM -- crickey!). Our only female leader has a law degree and way more than half a brain.

I wanted to see the shiny Alaskan dollie...
She actually does a reasonable Tina Fey...and she smiles as she's mentioning soccer parents.
I like the moderators who keep asking both of the Vice-Presidential candidates to answer the original questions rather than ripping and pontificating. And when did we start referring to potential Presidents as 'John' and 'Barack'?

What happened in Alaska that we can't say a word ending in 'g' -- runnin' with John (I hope that's not literal, bless their hearts, because he's not up for that...)
OH DEAR LORD SHE'S SAYIN' NEW-QUE-LEUR.....AND EYE-RACK...
What are we gonna do if she offends the EYE-TALIANS...or maybe she'll play to their soccer Moms.
(I'm thinkin' the Italian soccer Moms can take her....)

Smoke and mirrors...bobbing and weaving...
These moderators are better than dog trainers for bringing these candidates back to the ring and making them focus.

How do her lips stay that shiny after she's been talkin' all this time?
Lacquer, it's not just for big hair and stainin' the picnic table any more.

o canada...or melamine: it's not just for pet food anymore...

When melamine turned up in a slew of pet food in 2007, the revelation provoked the ire of pet owners and North American consumers...and with the same nasty chemical turning up in dairy products and poisoning Chinese children, the cynic in me says that Chinese authorities might well take a different approach to 'investigating.'

I don't even dislike melamine -- other than as a food stuff. I'm pretty sure I own fondue plates (vintage 70s in that mustard yellow that was all the rage the first time fonduing was in vogue). I think I saw melanime on the countertops at Graceland where -- might I say -- it was charming (with appliances I remember seeing on Let's Make a Deal).

Remember, when it was pet food, the 'inspectors' said there wasn't any proof that the addition really had occurred in China...there were middlemen don't you know. Just to be clear, that was the same polite deflection offered a decade before when Haitian children were poisoned by the addition of glycol -- basic antifreeze -- to a cough medicine. Feel free to plumb the 60 Minutes archives for confirmation. The World Health Organization (WHO) took up the cause on behalf of those children but found the factory alleged to have produced the concoction was gone -- just like the car Flounder borrowed from his brother Fred in Animal House....

If you think this about chest thumping and point fingers east, think again.

While Menu Foods took the brunt of the public flogging, a lot of 'premium' name foods got caught in that net. The same folks who offer you smiling vets suggesting they have a better idea what to feed pets are owned by a consortium that produces -- toothpaste (although not the kind you use for Fido and Fluffy).

Mercifully, the collies and cat colony here weren't eating any of the contaiminated lines.
That having been said, when I tried to track down the producers to whom I have funnelled a bucketload of cash over many, many years, it proved a tricky proposition. The bigger the name, the bigger the smoke screen. (Note to file: never let your MBAs create your public face...you'll end up lookin' like Tammy Faye Baker after a rainstorm - God rest her soul)

I like to think consumers aren't stupid...even the crazy ones -- like me -- who dote on their pets.

I won't slash the stinkers who didn't reply (some of their MBAs are nasty lawyers, I suspect...)
I will admit that I have cats on their prescription food which concerns me a little..
Better still, I have found a little digging gets you to companies who are domestic...some close to home...who are only to happy to answer questions...

One firm -- while very responsive -- couldn't confirm the source of their ingredients.

The folks at Nutram (produced in beautiful downtown Beamsville, Ontario) were only too happy to provide detailed lists of ingredients when I asked. They invited us to drop in too (which is a fine excuse to go visit some very nice local wineries...) They're pretty close to having a formula for everyone (I say this as the not-entirely-proud human companion of a cat with irritable bowel whose delicate digestive system is serious business...) http://www.nutram.com/

The collies and most of our cats gnosh Nutram kibble...but like all siblings, they refuse to embrace consensus. As luck would have it, our pals at Ryan's pets often have sample bags...send me your furry, your particular...your unbelievably finicky....and we stumbled on a new option -- Orijen http://www.championpetfoods.com/orijen/about/. Bless 'em, they have sample bags...and when we busted 'em open the black and whites (Memphis, Mizzu and Clemson) and their tabby ringleader (Furio Beans) thought we were offering treats. The sample bags are great -- you can try them without having to make a fifty dollar commitment. Better still, mixing them with existing options doesn't involve something akin to training for an ironman competition.

We've actually had retailers point out that Canadian brands are a little more expensive. While we love our vet (she's a goddess...make no mistake), five bucks a bag versus days in vet ICU (which means the goddess and her kind staff are on extra duty they don't charge enough for) is an economic proposition Keynes himself would question. I trust too, that if anything at my local producers goes doolally (as the Irish cousins say), Stephen Harper, Stephane Dion, Jack Layton, Gilles Duceppe and Elizabeth May won't be covering up the bodies. Call me an optimist....

We stumbled on another hilarious -- and seriously popular -- treat after our first visit to Bark and Fitz. It's a chi-chi kind of place (which creeps us us out a little...) but they have good stuff (the little pink coats and boots notwithstanding).

They turned us on to Barking Mad liver treats. Foster (the Marrobone addict) isn't sold but Amber and Shadow drool when they hear the bag. These guys aren't just great producers, they have a brilliant web site -- and I'm waiting for t-shirts. http://www.barkingmadlife.com/

Foster is our fussy (and slightly off beat) associate. He's the bellweather -- much as Mikey was in the Life commercial. He will eat the liver cookies from Bark and Fitz -- and most of our park pals go bonkers for these. Word of warning: they're rich...and too many resulting in something akin to greased lightning.

Fozzie's other great delight -- and an unexpected one at that -- Shrimp and Grits biscuits that I found in Norcross, Georgia, at Precious Pets. I figured the old boy would turn up his nose but he
was delighted http://www.preciouspetsga.com/ Word of warning: you need the Georgia bit in there or you'll get pet jewels...a pet cemetary (apologies to Stephen King) and a boarding facility. As a bonus, the little strip mall where you'll find this (20 minutes out of Atlanta) is a treasure trove: a fabulous Italian restaurant...a British store (with great tea and Coronation Street collectables) AND a little cafe that serves Sweet Tea and fried green tomatoes (have them together). Norcross is a historic junction that was key in the Civil War so you'll find lots of great plaques and information while you're there...(but Fozzie says the cookies are the high point)...

So while the Georgia imports aren't quite local, they're local to the point of sale...and they're from a small firm that uses stuff like grits...and shrimp...where the proprietors will put you on their email list and remember you when you make return visits...

Hey wait...that's commerce like Grandma and Grandpa knew it...hmm...and they recycled too....

an homage to uncle howard...a middle name for dan rand

Uncle Howard is one of my favourite colleagues...and a always a contender in the dead pool.
He chastised me for my candidate rating system...he says he needs to speak for the rightish (but not hawkish) crowd. The Stephen Colbertists....

Post away campers...how do you rate 'em?

Dan is penning an epoch...that might be an epic...he needs a middle name for a character...
Not the Palin kind...

What about Sophie...
Fredo won't do for a girl (and it doesn't scream longevity...)
Delilah has her charms...

What is it...
And why is that stuck in the middle for you...

choose your own palin-drone (with apologies to the palindrome set)

Madam I'm Adam...
I'll get you the Panama Canal one as well...

Unless you've been in a coma for the past few weeks you know about Alaska's favourite puck bunny. (I know the Russians...I can see them from here...)

Unless you're calculating right angles with your math teacher (don't stand so close to me!), how you get Trig for a child eludes me...

And I say this as the proud person of Memphis, Mizzu, Clemson and Arizona. But that kinda makes sense. Ask Clark Kellogg.

The five Palin kilets are -- Track, Bristol (like the cream...not the board...but go wild with that...you know you want to...), Willow, Piper and Trig.

http://politsk.blogspot.com/2008/09/sarah_13.html

Halter Grasshopper Palin...of course, I put in Furio Beans (the sighted tabby to get it...)
That was fun...let's try it again...
Opal (our patient) is Wesson Scalper....

John McCain...Steam Fangs...
Hillary Clinton...Meat Notgay (courage Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants...it was a great speech...)

C'mon...Canadian content...
Stephen Harper (the warm, cuddly one...) Tangle Jin Palin...
Stephan Dion...Hump Gizzards Palin...
Okay, we have to go for the trifector on this...
Jack Layton...Gamebird Kelp....

You're on your own for the rest of them, but it is kinda fun...

Hey Mom...thanks for not smokin' lichen while you were considering what to call me....

meet the patient...

Big pharma is no fool...

For everything you see on a commercial, there's usually a version designed for the canine and feline set.

Your Mama's Celebrex® is Rimadyl® for the doggie set (and v-e-r-y popular with the Labs and Aussies). Here's the best part...if they have the big infarc, the pooches don't get gnarly. And they go happy. The meds ain't cheap but they do work so large in part, if a dog goes from lame to happy to off to chase the butterflies, the dog's humans are happy (read: dogs don't sue). In many respects, it's a win-win....

Opal - our hypertensive old queen - seems to fare well. (See note about the twin goddesses who deliver her care)

More meds than Sofia Petrillo when she was at Shady Pines, but they keep Opal comfortable so that is not a complain. While the right eye is not pretty, it's not been functional for a long time and it's no impediment where eating is concerned. It's not a great image but it gives you a sense of how dark that eye is. We'll get a better one.

(Rule 1: If a pet is eating, it's a good sign. Rule 2: Don't forget rule 1. Cats and dogs are not as dumb as models and starlets. Not ever.)

addendum...apparently, cats do have strokes...

...although Opal didn't...
She had a blood pressure spike...but some cats do have the all out version (puts me in mind of Opus' pal Bill in many ways...it was a Bloomin' great cartoon...)

As of this morning, the patient was tolerating her meds...and the humans who were coaxing pills into her gullet and firing drops into her eyes. But the kind doctor gave her a -- wait for it -- puddy-cure just in case she gets fed up with her caretakers.

the old cat trends upward thanks to her talented physician (well ahead of wall street, by the way...)

My veterinarian is a goddess....and I tell her that as often as I can (hopefully I tell her that regularly enough during non-emergencies that she knows I mean this...)

Vets have a tough balancing act: first, they treat the conditions of their patients (some of whom really do bite - literally); then, they have to manage the people attached to their patients. I have to believe that's the tough part.

Our old cat landed at the vet Friday morning after a strange episode. What we've learned is cats don't have strokes...but they have blood pressure spikes...and spikes cause side effects like bleeding and detached retinas. Opal (the patient) hasn't been able to see for years. She has her world blocked out in her head. Path down the stairs to where breakfast is served. Path up the stairs to napping location. Occasional obstacle known as collie. Trek along the couch to food on top of bookshelf (there is food all over for her to get to but that's her place, thank you very much, and just because she's blind doesn't mean you can offer her less than preferred dining space).

We've had regular updates, but this afternoon's was troubling. Blood pressure up. Ocular pressure up. But come see her, said the doctor, and see what you think.

When you're on life nine with two paws on a banana peel, perky is not your usual ilk. There was her ladyship...sitting in her doctor's lap while the doctor tried to type around a cat determined to smooch her chin (try that with your own GP campers and see if it doesn't get you onto CBC's White Coat Black Art in a hurry when they're talking about ethics.)

Ill as she was, Opal was purring and eating and cuddling.
Austin (the clinic lab and social worker) lost an eye to glaucoma was keeping her company.
Except for a grim looking eye (oh man was it sad...), you wouldn't have known Opie had an issue.
Twenty four hours more, we all agreed.

Tonight the numbers are in -- and much improved. If this keeps up, Opal can come home tomorrow.
She and Austin are hanging out for the night. Good company contributes to the recovery process.

So back to the tricky bits of a vet's job...
All those years in school to evacuate impacted anal glands (one of the four places were the use of impacted is grammatically correct)...and remove hair bands and beer caps and cell phones from their patients' gullets. Weekend work very regularly. As many sad endings as happy ones.

It's one thing to be a talented clinician -- but nobody can teach any doctor the most important part -- having a heart and having the courage to listen to it.

Our vet is a wee little slip of a thing. She could fit her whole body into one of my pant legs...probably twice. But she has the heart of a lion and you have to see her wrestle big dogs to see her at her finest.

When she bought a well-established practice from a doctor who was going on to a specialty practice in opthamology, the patients didn't give her grief...but meeting their people undoubtedly had its interesting wrinkles. She had big shoes to fill (in a strictly metaphorical sense...the previous doc who still consults when eyes are in the offing was a delicate creature too) but those shoes fit perfectly.

I've often said to her when my friends were failing, I just don't have the wisdom to do God's job.
None of us does, she reminds me, but God lets you know when it's time. It's really when the animals speak and they always let you know.

With luck, we'll enjoy a little more quiet time with the old dollie yet before she says goodbye.
We'll have to buy her one of those pill organizers...
Hey, do you suppose cats need Metamucil too...ask me in a few days...

Gin

Teaching old dogs new tricks...

At a conference last week, a great speaker by the name of Steve Crescenzo assured a room full of anxious communicators they could blog. Apparently, he speaks the truth - and his warnings about the proliferation of corporate tripe will make you split a gut. (http://www.crescenzocomm.com/)


I know, I know...it's a tame start. Photos will follow. There may be sound.

I may try to teach the executives at work to do this (which is really not the motivation for this part of the experiment...). Housebreaking wildcats and collies (we're batting about .650 on that count) is good practice for taking this to the office.


There are candidates' lapdogs roaming our neighbourhood unleashed of late. (Apparently, Animal Control can't contain 'em...nor some of the squawking children in these parts...)

We haven't seen a real candidate yet. We should have. The migration of the current trough snouters back to home ridings is complete and the opposition has ponied up alleged alternatives. Then again, you can make the case that in the elections currently underway in Canada (our turf) and the U.S., real candidates are an endangered species who require more protection than the polar bears (who are gonna need large pool noodles and K-rations of seal tartare if these arctic shelves keep collapsing -- but don't let that global warning hijinx boil your blood...just let it keep boiling the oceans).


The campaign volunteers are generally nice folks. I'm hoping for a different hobby in retirement, myself. We have a fairly reliable screening system at our house: the actual candidate gets bonus points for making an appearance (last time, only the Green party guy came to the door in person.)


Our early warning defense system (Foster, Shadow and Amber) let us know when intruders approach: squirrels (which you could suggest applies to the aforementioned candidates - if you don't mind insulting the actual ones with the fuzzy tails), paper carriers, candidates. Once they sound the alert, our candidate rating system kicks into gear.

• If candidate or candidate's minion flee at the sound of the collie choir: no points awarded. If you haven't got the gumption to face three yappy housedogs parliament is no place for you (even with Sheila Copps in retirement).
• If candidate or minion approaches...retreats...or vaults onto the porch, jam junk into the mailbox and flee in haste: 1 point awarded. Reasonable representation of the flip-flop behaviour that determines the longevity of back benchers in Ottawa. (Did I promise to do something...and reverse...well of course I promised...I needed your vote...you'll forget over four years -- or three if the same government gets in and sees a chance to extend its reign of error.) **Note we will be trying to capture this for later posting. It's fun to watch! **
• If candidate or minion approaches...faces collies...knocks or rings: 2 points awarded (minus 1 if they flee at the site of the porch cats).
• If candidate or minion speaks and can articulate any reasonable position on any major issue without referring to notes: 3 points awarded. Bonus points for being able to speak to the end of the 40 year mortgage, its value to the overall stability of the banking system, and the hiccups it will create in Calgary and Vancouver - never have to award these, but it's important to know they exist).
• Candidate or minion pet dogs, smile like they're sane and utter anything more than 'Can count on your support?>: 4 points. Minus 2 if we ask why and there's no compelling answer. (Hint: three collies at the door, Memphis and Beans on the porch: take a leap and figure the bill to boost fines for cruelty to animals might be a good opening bid....)

Last time out, we liked the Green guy (it's a party...not a politically sensitive description of the man's complexion). He was personable, earnest, sane. We knew he didn't stand a chance but it felt good to tell him he could count on us. The dogs liked him -- and dogs have better sense that most voters. (Option two was the fully-vested-in-the-pension former MP. Elect her campers -- you're gonna pay for her anyway....)

You have to like all the righteous hand-wringing and fretting about the U.S. banking system. Some looks almost genuine. Let's not dismiss the real concern at play: there go a ton of future campaign donations. Some curious reporter might yet check to see which of the defunct firms ponied up for the GOP and the Dems. Some other might check to see if Lehman Brothers execs forgot to before their junior staff got left swinging.

It's actually a simple explanation: GREED.
I get those emails too...the ones touting the GREAT WATCH AT A GREAT PRICE...or telling me if I just take delivery of the cheque the deposed prince of will reclaim his righteous throne and send me cash. (I don't need the imported wife or the pound of Viagara...)
And the difference between the mortgage bubble, the hedge funds, the inflated values of the alleged pillars of the financial sector and those emails: oh, right...we arrest the emailers if we can catch 'em.

Put it this way...four legs good...two legs bad...
If you don't know what that means Google Animal Farm. The George Orwell version.

More on the ancient cat next time.

Gin