Easter Vacay'

I traveled the exhausting distance to Vancouver Island. That means I was travelling a lot. So what really stands out about my trip isn't so much the fact that we ate the bunny after he hid our eggs or that I got a tan or even that I got to play with my lovely friends, it's ferry travel that sticks with me. Like gum to the bottom of your shoe, ferry travel is sticky and dirty, and the residual effects are disturbing.

The trip over was sunny, albeit laced with a light hangover. The trip home was smelly and wet. And the view was les than desirable. From my vantage point, which was dangerously close to the kids play area, I could see the following:

I saw the worst kind of hippy. The kind that wears novelty hats made of boiled wool. Hats that have the potential to be moderately cute on fictional fairy tale characters, do not belong on men in their early 40's. However we are in BC and there are an inexhaustible amount of poor fashion choices available. What this man-child was wearing what can only be described as a Gandalf inspired tea-cosy, with the addition of an offensive looking pheasant plume which concluded his total height at approximately 7 feet.

Secondly I saw a family of roughly 10 travelling together. Instead of sitting in 2 rows, they helpfully peppered themselves over 5. Just plain annoying.

As I mentioned I was within lynching distance of the carnival of filthy noisy children. Fortunately I had Led Zeppelin playing through my headphones at a suitable volume for obliterating exterior shrieks and giddiness. There was a small pack of rednecks just in front of the screaming kids, presumably 6 belonged to them. What drew my attention to this particular collection of trailer trash was the fact that one of the women was pouring a 2 litre carton of milk into a thermos. I can only assume they were making White Russians. Really, I can't blame them. Mostly I'm just jealous actually.

pause for paws.

I already had a mini cry earlier. I'm preparing myself for the worst. The worst being my cat Spanky not making it to the end of the summer.

Dad has just returned home to Ontario from a "mission" in Georgia (not where peaches come from). The first thing he noticed upon arrival was that Spanky seemed to be carrying extra weight around her middle. In his expert opinion he didn't think she looked right. So Mum and Dad were planning on taking her to the Vet last week. I said that was fine, but just to make sure she doesn't come back dead, like the last three cats they brought there.

Last October Spanky lost her purr. It was a crisis. She was hauled to The Vet who said she was fine just a little dehydrated. He gave her some sort of immunization to sort that out. She began purring again, and presumably was sufficiently hydrated. Problem solved. So Spanky was taken to The Vet last week and now he says she is retaining water and that it's just a matter of time before the extra pressure or something begins impairing her heart and lungs etc. At which point Mum and Dad are to bring her back and they'll put her out of her misery. Something's fishy, and it's not cat food. Dr Kevorkian figures Spanky has less than 6 months. I figure he needs a new set of golf clubs or wants to take the family to Epcot. He's happily killed 3 of the family cats already, and we didn't even get a postcard.

Mum says Spanky's 16 and she's had a good life. I say Dr K is a total quack and to get a second opinion. I don't think my Dad is going to take this lightly. Spanky is my Dad's pride and joy. If he could have had her for 35 years and me for 16 I'm sure he would have.

Needless to say I'm distressed. And I fully plan on being a puddle of tears for at least a couple of weeks. At which point I'll try and collect myself and begin filing a class action law suit. I think four dead cats constitute as a group? If not there's always good old Malpractice.