Monthly Archives: July 2022

Illegal, Immoral, Unethical

No, this is not a to do list. I am not lining up for some nefarious deeds in the near future. Maybe the not so near future… ?  Nah, silly me.  I see these three words as my guide for conduct. I will endeavour to not do anything illegal, immoral or unethical. The legal issue is pretty straightforward. Laws are written down and enforced. It is a way of making groups of people behave. Common sense should be a part of that but we all know how that works. The tricky bit comes when you’re dealing with issues of morality and ethics.

Ethics are something that is dictated by society or specific cultures. Morality is our internalization of that and how we respond to said society. Unfortunately, both seem to have the ability to waiver and re-create themselves depending on the time of day and the weather forecast. Do I sound a wee bit sarcastic?

If you could travel back in time, you would find some differences in the laws used to govern society. The basics were all the same: killing bad, theft frowned upon, fraud, assault and so on.  But there were other laws in which, as we have evolved, we saw the inequalities in society and have endeavoured to correct them. We also made a point of putting these laws in writing which allows us to enforce them. We still have a ways to go.

Ethics have also changed over time and that is not a bad thing. They are not stagnant and should grow as we grow. But why does it seem as if every politician, every dictator, every person in authority seems to make it their goal to change ethics to accommodate their platform? The whole concept of morality and ethics should be there for the benefit of all. Globally, locally and individually. You know the whole idea of ‘doing unto others as you would have them do onto you’? Why do people forget that? You do not want to be cheated out of your life savings?  So why do some people think it’s OK to do it to others? Yes, I am we bit naïve. I like to believe in the good of people. I like to . . .

So, I will give other people the benefit of the doubt until they prove me wrong. They so often do. And I’m going to try to live my life according to my principles: nothing illegal, immoral or unethical.  Well, I said I would try!

A Cutting Death

He hides in the crowd,

Afraid for his life.

He curls up in panic,

He knows there’s a knife.


He’s yanked to the fore,

With nary thought.

The cutting is quick,

For those that are caught.


The action is swift,

The life force is done.

No more to shine,

His days in the sun.


Death sweeps away,

The thoughts and the cares.

All that remains,

Are the discarded hairs.


I’ll take just a trim,

Off my shaky old head.

So toss them aside,

Those cut hairs are dead.


Was My Miniature Poodle Gay?

This is actually a blast from my past. It was originally posted in August 2017. He made me smile then and I hope he makes you smile now. Enquiring minds wanted to know…

I was five years old when Beau Brummel joined our merry family.  My parents had been promising my brother, sister and I that we could get a dog one day.  One Sunday afternoon we were out for a drive (I guess it was a way to stimulate curiosity in us young’uns.)  We stopped for lunch a few towns over from where we lived.  After eating, my siblings left the table only to return a few moments later with an announcement:  There was a kennel in town. (They had checked the phonebook.) (For those of you too young to remember payphones, they were in most restaurants and on the street for people to make phone calls without going home.  There were no cells phones or Internet in those days. It was the ‘60s Sigh.)

Busted!  My father had promised.  We came home with an 8 month old, pure bred, champion stock, black, miniature poodle. His front legs had been broken when he was a few days old and had healed incorrectly so his walk was always slightly off.  We never noticed.

Beau ruled. Well, at least us kids.  He played when he wanted to, he cuddled when he wanted to.  And he always looked like he knew better.

Because Beau was of champion stock, breeders wanted to use him as a stud.  My parents agreed. Evidently it didn’t go well.  He didn’t seem to know what to do. The first indication?

About few years later we added another dog to the mix.  A beautiful Chesapeake Bay Retriever, we called her Blue. She idolized Beau. On the last day of school before summer break, both dogs went missing.  Eventually they showed up again and the summer continued as planned until . . .our beautiful Blue was pregnant!

Our first thought was: Beau! You ole dog!  But no. We think he pimped her out to another retriever in the neighbourhood: Blacky, a black lab. The pups were stunning!  I watched them being born. Quite an experience for a child. Beau hovered like a worried godfather. Second indication?

A few days later my brother, Blue and her five puppies left for university.  Beau moped for twenty minutes and then started putting everything back to normal. But he did find a friend.

My best friend lived across the street.  Her father was a hunter and had hunting dogs.  Strictly off limits to curious children.  They also had a male cat.  Rusty was an outdoor cat whose job was to keep the mouse population in decline.  He was very good at his job. We lived just outside a small city surrounded by forests and fields. It was a great place to live.  Rusty was beautiful and affectionate. In those days your animals ran free so chances were good they would meet up.  They did. Beau and Rusty became friends. The two boys met up most days and Beau often invited Rusty into the house for snacks or even a nap.  Third indicator?

A few years later we moved to another province.  Beau never again had a special friend like Rusty. I wonder if they found each other across the Rainbow Bridge?