I Can’t Speak for Rob Ford, But I am Offended

Municipal elections are in full swing in Ontario.

The mayor of Toronto race is heating up with a candidate no one thought had a chance becoming the frontrunner.

Rob Ford is a longtime councillor who is hoping to bring his say-it-like-it-is, penny-pinching ways to the mayor's office, and Torontonians have embraced it.

Last night at an all-candidates debate, a man stood up, introduced himself as a doctor and told Ford he was looking at him as a patient. He said because Ford is so big, the doctor was worried Ford wasn’t healthy enough for the job.

Ford, surprisingly, answered the man’s question by saying he knew he had to loose some weight but he has always been a big guy and his doctor had given him a clean bill of health.

Ford also said he was offended by the question.

I am disgusted. What gives anyone the right to question someone’s weight? What business is it of anyone other than Ford? And how dare someone get up in a public forum and ask Ford that sort of question.

I guess this is another reason why I couldn’t be in the public’s eye. I would have told the doctor to piss off.

Poem in Remembrance

A few of my friends and a fellow blogger recently had to put down their cherished pets.
My aunt sent me this poem when we put down Sylvester, a year ago in August. I thought it was lovely.

They are gone
From your sight…
But never our memory,
Gone from our hearing…
But never from our hearts,
Gone from our touch…
But their presence is felt,
And the love that they gave us
Never departs.

Missing Our Sylvester

We put our cat, Sylvester, down yesterday. He had congenital heart failure.

Being a cat, Sylvester hid his pain and suffering for what was likely months, which makes me feel just dreadful. The poor guy’s lungs were filled with fluid so he felt like he was drowning.

At around 3 p.m. yesterday, we noticed Sylvester’s breathing was funny and by 6 p.m., he was no longer with us.

While I feel badly that we didn’t have a lot of time cuddling, I think he had a good last day. The night before he had steak for dinner and he spent part of the night cuddling under the covers with me, his chin tucked under mine, purring away. In the morning, my son and I scratched his ears and pet him for a while before our day began. He had a lick of peanut butter and a lick of Cheese Whiz for a snack after his breakfast of soft and hard food. Our son leaped over my legs to get at Sylvester, giving him a big sloppy kiss and a couple of pets, along with some yanking.


Unfortunately, I did sit on Sylvester in order to get his flea medication on, but he did get four treats and then spent some time outside before being brought in. We had some more petting time before he was forced into the car, his least favourite place, before being brought to the vet.


I really miss him today but feel most badly that our son will not grow up as planned with his furry brother, who was like a dog, child and cat to us.