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The Brussels Post, 1974-01-16, Page 2• Mrs. or the r d s.l • fternoi Mrs. whe me salm I Tree with leaves in January ••41444#4441.47,41,#••••••1110e#444144444144•4144•••41444.7.~114114 "The Report ,by th oard,' dent, gricul ?:from ti heck t 14weijaatv:rk ee t.eht`i voided discuss Consun overn lore co This week I've been batching it, and I must say that I miss my wife. It's not that I can't cook and wash thshes and make the bed and do all those other silly things that our poor wives have to do day after day, year after year. No, there's no problem there. It's the danged cats. They're driving me out of the remnants of .what was once a fine mind. I'd rather live with a herd of goats than with two cats, I've concluded. Take one elderly she-cat who has been spayed. She was quite content with life. She is beautiful and very, very distant, except when she's hungry. There isn't a brine in her body that is friendly. She just wants you to keep your distance, feed her well, and let tier bask on a sunny stair-tread. In return, she will guarantee not to make a mess in the house. I had just begun to tolerate her, if not like her, after about six years. Now, add a boisterous young torn cat. He's as agile as an orang-outan, has an appetite like a polar bear, has the manners of a pig, and is sickeningly friendly. He has completely disrupted what was a fairly quiet, peaceful household. He is driving the old cat out of her nut. He follows her around, licking and kissing her, until she spits, takes a swipe at him and makes him back off long enough for her to skedaddle to one of her hideouts. He looks hurt. All you have to do is settle down with a newspaper and a cup of tea, and he's quite likely to come flying through the air, sending the paper one way and the tea the other, as he seeks solace for his yearning heart. Given any encouragement whateve r, he'll climb all over you, digging his claws into your shoulders because he doesn't know any better, smooching your face and neck in a wet, disgusting fashion, before thumping himself down for a rest on your stomach or chest or any other part of you that suits his convenience. Two minutes later, he hears the old; t Sneaking around, digs his claws into your knee and takes a flying leap, off to court her some more. There's absolutely tio sex involved. He just wants to be loved by a second mother, but she is happy, childless widow, and , w ants to stay that way. You can't even feed them together. She is a dainty eater. He eats like a wolf who has just broken a long fast. Pitt down two bowls. He gulps his while she is sniffing hers, then shoulders her aside and gets into her grub, while she bats him ineffectually, then retreats in disgust to sulk under a bed. She is a bed sneaker-under, since he arrived. And if there's anything more difficult than getting a determined old cat out from under a bed, I'd like to see it. The only way to do it is go under the bed after her, with a broom or mop. You wind up, puffing, stuck under the bed, while she has darted off and is under one of the beds in one of the other rooms. She's as slippery as an eel and a heck of a lot more cunning. Meanwhile, during the half hour you chase the old cat, trying to grab any of her extremities so that you can throw her out, where she should have been long ago, his arrogant young nibs is having the run of the kitchen. . He's not a bed sneaker-under. He's a counter-walker. And a cupboard-door- opener. One leap and he's up on the kitchen counters, strolling sniffing, licking. Don't leave the butter out. He'll down a quarter-pound, straight. Give him three minutes alone and he's somehow opened the cupboard door below . the sink and is gaily into the garbage. He'll eat anything: baked potato skins, left-over soup, stale lettuce, fried eggs, The only time I have seen him a bit nonpulsed was on New Year's Day. Maybe he had a hangover. I was half,drowsing in a chair, and watching him out of a corner of my eye, in case he took a flying leap and threw his arms around my neck to kiss me, which I abhor. He'd caught a mouse, it seemed, though we've never had mice in this house. He., would slain his paw on it, pick it up in his teeth, chew it and swallow it. A tiny mouse. Thank —goodness he's good for something. Then he'd throw up the mouse, and go through the Whole business again. I got a bit alarmed that he'd throw up more than the Mouse one of these times, onto the rug. I investigated. He was trying to digest one of those wide elastic bands, Every time he hit it, it would', jump, so he thought it was alive and chewed it and swallowed it, but couldn't keep it down. That's, the kind of stupid cat he is. But he getting smart very quickly. When I try to gab hit and throw him out in the SnOW after a feeding, he goes by rne like a cheetah going by a rhinocerous. Sure wish my wife would get home. It takes two of us to handle the two of them. Sugar. and Spice By Bill Smiley Aski Prices accusin maintai 'artifici, absolu t the wa) set." M prices ti three f Morn No. 315 meeting Than the shu received Noble G were successf A rep eye mac the Odd this dist "You look beat! ... What time did you get in last night?" And then 1" saws to Mini E11A11414:HtD 11172 russels Post ,BRUSSELS WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 16, 1974 ONTARIO Serving Brussels and the surrounding community. Published each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, Ontario by McLean Bros.Publishers, Limited, Evelyn Kennedy - Editor Tom Haley - Advertising Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and Ontario Weekly Newspaper Association. Subscriptions (in advance) Canadal$6.00 a year, Others $8.00 a year, Single Copies 15 cents each. SeCond class mail Registration No. 0562. Telephone 887-6641. Watch' your touches If you have ever"just touched" the bumper of another car with your car's bumper after a sudden stop, then decided that there had been no damage done and driven merrily on your way, you had better beware and not do it again. The Supreme Court of Canada has just ruled that such a bumper touch constitutes an accident. The court upheld the conviction of a Toronto woman, who drove away after her car's bumper touched a Toronto cab, of a charge of leaving the scene of an accident. The woman did not see the cab driver pull over after the "touch" and drove home, assuming that no damage had been done. The Supreme Court in a seven to two vote rejected the woman's contention that she believed no damage had been done, saying that she knew the two cars had touched and defining that touch as an accident. The justices' discussion of the case, as reported in the Financial Post is fairly complicated. But the implications of their decision apply to every driver. Even if the other driver isn't around and you think there are no witnesses, if you touch another driver's bumper or lightly brush someone else's bumper while pulling out of a parking lot, stop and get out of your car. Then you can'inspect the damage and call the police. Believe it or not, you've just had an accident.