Today I am going to write about cats, or rather, a cat. Not the musical, mind you, or even the upcoming movie.
Nope, I am going to write about the actual quadrupeds, or as some people call them, ” our feline overlords “. Today I am going to relate some of the background of my little buddy Reg’s mother Jane A later column will feature CoCo, who is the current official cat of Chez Montreuil.
As you know, I am still dealing with Lois’ passing. Last week, I had to have my little buddy Reg put down. Depression has been prevalent in my life over the last while, often pinning me into bed until 1:00 P.M.
I dream about Lois and I think of things that I should have said to her, ways that I could have made her feel even more loved than she was… I finally got Lois’ apartment cleaned out and I have a lot of her things at my apartment, so it sort of looks like a submarine before setting out on patrol, with every surface covered with boxes.
September 14th marks Reg the Cat’s birthday. He turned 14 this year, but sad events overshadowed everything else this year, and the celebration was muted. However, here is my tribute to my little buddy for this year.
The annual Reg the Cat birthday column is hereby postponed until next week. In its place, I present the following.
I have been in an abyss of grief since my Dear Lois passed last month. I would never have believed that such pain as I am feeling was even possible. But in darkness there is Light, in the midst of despair there is Hope.
The overwhelming rush of good wishes and condolences has been, well, overwhelming. Let me just mention some examples.
(Author’s note; due to unforeseen problems adding videos, and a lack of time to currently sit down and figure them out, the planned juxtaposition of letters and numbers for this week has been pre-empted. Music videos will return.)
September 14th is always an auspicious day at Chez Montreuil, as it marks Reg the Cat’s birthday. This, the second part of “The Story of Reg; so far…;), deals with the period between Him leaving Brampton and His arrival in Toronto, circa December 12, 2012 – February 02, 2013.
Democracy is in peril, threatened by apathy. We have elected unqualified fools, both in America and here in Ontario, much to my chagrin. How could these accepting and accommodating nations welcome these wolves into their doors?
Well, President Pinocchio managed to keep my last column off CBC/CNN via yet another erratic outburst, this time, once again, with racist overtones. There were people at that meeting who didn’t hear anything, then a couple of days later maintained that they didn’t hear anything, but he definitely didn’t say THAT! (You see, if one seeks to replace Frederick Douglass as an ambassador, some toeing of the party line is required.) After all the kerfluffle, people are now saying that he didn’t say “sh**hole”, he said “sh**house”. Gee, thanks for clearing that up for the world! That makes it all better. It’s like “the Blue Meanies” have won. Now I could have written my own diatribe in response but decided to write the following, instead.
Ever since I was a young boy, I have had no trouble making friends. There are advantages to being easy going, nonjudgmental and able to compose a coherent (albeit brief) sentence without the need to use a script, (or at least, there should be advantages). For instance, I have around 5000 Facebook friends ™. These folks range from musicians through relatives, (crazy and otherwise), through plastic modelers all the way to former coworkers.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 