Farewell to Mark and Frank

I went to two farewell parties this week.  The first one was Monday night in honour of Mark Ozog.  We started at the Rugby Club and ended up at Barnone to end the night.  Mark went to Kingston to complete an MBA at Queen’s.  I wish you all the best Mark.  Thanks for teaching me to snowboard and all the good times.  No Crying.

The other farewell party was last night in honour of Frank.  Frank is going to Uvic to do his PhD.  We had a meat challenge at Memphis Blues before sampling the brews at Steamworks.  Frank is one of the last veterans of the “golden era” at St. John’s College.  I’m going to miss hacking your knees at hockey Frank.


Horror Show

Derm and I saw the horror movie “Silent Hill” on Saturday night.  The real horror didn’t begin until we were on our way home, however.  We saw a cat get hit by a car right in front of us.  It was obvious that her spine was snapped.  Her back half was at a right angle to the front half.  She was twitching violently, yet somehow she managed to drag herself under a parked car using only her front paws.  I pulled my car to the side and got out to see if she was still alive.  My first thought was how was I going to put her out of her misery?  It was 1:00 AM, where could I take her?

A group of people had gathered.  I got down on the ground and saw that the cat was still alive, but unable to move.  She was panting and gasping.  I knew that there was no way she was going to make it.  But I could not leave her there to suffer.  I decided to take her to the lab and give her a lethal injection of sodium pentobarbital.  The only problem was that I did not know what dose to give a cat, as I had only given rats such an injection.  I would also have the problem of getting her past the security guards who controlled access after 10:00 PM.  What I planned was certainly against the rules.

A woman at the scene then told me that there was an emergency animal hospital that was open 24 hours at 4th and Fir.  So I bundled the cat up in my jacket, put her in the back seat, and took her to the hospital.  The vet confirmed that the cat was barely with us.  There was nothing more to do except go home.  I’m sure they put her down as soon as we left.  By the smell left on my jacket and in my car, I am sure the cat was a stray.  I didn’t want to take my jacket into my room because I was worried about lice.  My jacket is still in the trunk of my car.  I will have to get it dry-cleaned before I will be able to wear it without fear of contamination.  But it may already be too late as Derm and I have been scratching ourselves a bit more than usual of late.

St. John’s College Mug Snub

At tonight’s formal dinner at St. John’s College, I received my first mug for contributing to the College.  Does receiving a mug now, at what could prove to be my last formal dinner at St. John’s, make up for being snubbed for the previous two mug ceremonies?  I would say yes if I had received the mug for organizing hockey or poker.  But those activities are obviously not valued by the powers that be.  Instead, I was one of about 100 people who received a mug for being a member of the Outreach committee, most of whom never even attended a meeting.  Baseball was worth a mug.  Ultimate was worth a mug.  Soccer was worth a mug.  Even music appreciation club members received a mug.  But our national pastime took a backseat to every conceivable club you can imagine.  Therefore, the mug is more of an insult than an honour, and I the only thing I will use if for is drinking malt liquor.  At least that will leave a better taste in my mouth than tonight’s mug snub.