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 Toronto the big
Well, How y'all doin'? You lucky little hotdogs. When ya hear
me with that greeting, y'all know that I'm in Toronto and that
I went to see Mary D and the Melody Ranch show at the Brunswick
House.
I don't mind travelling to Toronto, but I hate having to go to
the vet before we can leave. You're poked, squeezed and then stabbed
with a needle, moreover he prescribes some sort of air sickness
medicine which make ya sick even before ya get on the iron-bird.
On the iron-bird two-leggers got it really good. Air- conditioned
comfort, seats ya can adjust and take a quick people- nap. Meanwhile,
your beloved pets are caged in tiny travelling boxes in the guts
of the iron-bird. Ever been in the cargo area of an iron bird?
Believe me, it's not pretty. It's a dimly lit, humid cabin that
ya have to share with similarly imprisoned pets of varying sizes
and species. Between the barking, quacking, howling, hissing,
honking, squealing and snorting, it's impossible to like air travel.
I guess that's why they give ya medicine to put ya in a semi-comatose
state.
We were invited up to Toronto to help Marion's aunt, Ethel, celebrate
her latest divorce. This was from her third and latest husband.
I like the old girl myself, she always sneaks us pets into the
Brunswick House on Saturday afternoons. I am not sure she likes
Country music as much as she likes seeing Big Dave T, the guitar
player, who is Elvis look alike.
Did I mention, that Aunt Ethel never marries poor and never comes
away empty handed? This time she got a mansion in Rosedale, one
of the more prestigious neighbourhoods in Toronto. Most of the
people who live there speak with quasi British accents and bore
ya to death with stories of their British Isles heritage as they
down single malt scotch. Aunt Ethel just doesn't fit in, she's
lager and leather.
Aunt Ethel finds cats even more bossy and selfish than herself,
so she has a fondness for dogs.-You know, Sit, Roll over, Beg.
Nice Doggy-. The last time we visited her, she didn't have a real
dog, she had one of them stuck-up fur ball types. The ones kats
just gotta back up a bit, arch the old back, and they run howling
and squealing, primped fur, red ribbons and all.
But this trip, it's different. She has this rat size Chihuahua,
half a kilo if he's an ounce. I walk into the room and there standing
in the middle of the room like he wants a face-off is this so-called
dog. I say, "Hey Pedro, Buenos dias, move over, Splatt D is in
da house." His mouth opens and out comes this resonating baritone
voice. "Listen bud, the name aint Pedro and I don't speak Spanish,
wanna talk to me in a foreign language, try French, I was born
in Montreal." It was the first time in many years that a dog had
me shaking. I apologised. I figured that if his voice was that
big, his heart gotta be bigger and if you add to that some type
of martial arts training Splatt D has got his hands full. Then
he says. "What's it gonna be, Kattman, we share this dump or you
gonna pick an attitude?"
I reminded him that it was his turf and he could call the shots.
He liked that. We both buried our attitudes and we became friends.
Jean-Luc, that was his name. A real nice fellow, one of those
guys who always tells ya 'bout the latest terrible thing he heard.
Never 'bout anything good or funny. He told me about this law
in Toronto that the two-leggers call the Cat law.
Two-leggers must pay $35 to license all dogs and cats that are
not spayed or neutered and do not have an implanted microchip
for identification. If ya got all of that, then the license is
free. I got one of them chips, plus I aint got the tools no more.
So I guess I am sorta safe. It continues. Animal control officers
can impound a cat that is causing problems, or is found sick,
or off of its owner's property.
Each residence is limited to only six pets and two-leggers are
prohibited from keeping as pets, primates, elephants and large
snakes.
Ok, I can live with the exotic animal section, but what bothers
me most is, if your neighbour aint into cats or don't like you
or the breed of your cat and your cat goes on his lawn he can
have the cat impounded. Can you say euthanasia, if there is no
chip or license.
Just because Toronto became bigger doesn't mean it became better
for cats. I loved the old Toronto. Neighbours putting a saucer
of milk out for ya, rumbling Red Rocket street cars, a wide-open
Spadina Avenue and a view of the lake from the Gardiner expressway.
What happened to all of that?
Well at least the city is still one of the safest in North America,
and that's a lot to be said. So before I am impounded for bad
behaviour, after all this is Rosedale, I am zipping the lip.
Until next time Meoow and Grrr.
Splatt Deekatt
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