The Inquest (aka Fault Finding) into the collapse of the CCTV building during the Christchurch earthquake grinds on.
Rescue staff, police, fire service personnel, construction workers will all have the opportunity to point the finger at each other. Already a policeman has said that he was ordered not to continue searching for survivors when the Urban Search and Rescue team arrived and the fire service was told to stop directing water at flames in case trapped survivors drowned – presumably it was okay if they fried instead. All this testimony is taking place in the full glare of publicity and the accusing eyes of those who lost family in the disaster.
This morning’s news capped it all when the nation learned that a construction manager was prevented from calling in heavy equipment to move debris until an OSH (Occupational Health and Safety) assessment had been done.
Nobody would deny that OSH is a good idea. After all no-on goes to work to be killed and a tiny minority of companies are careless over employee safety. However, in an emergency when haste is essential to save people a little common sense should trump bureaucracy.
I’ve been quiet lately and my paws absent from the keyboard. The Fusspot put her back out so I’ve been on vibrator duty – don’t laugh – curled at her lower back whilst she is supine. I’ve had a good rest too and lots of snooze but this morning I found this video on lighepardo’s blog and thought it should be reposted. With so many births it looks as though that zoo has something in the water……
This handsome fellow is starring in a Purina cat food advert and I am green with envy. I wish the talent scouts would come my way from time to time as I’m sure I could star every bit as well as he does.
What’s more his taste in broth matches mine….tuna and prawns ……oh yummmmm
The BBC tells us all we need know about the love/hate relationship that sometimes exists between cats and humans.
I’m on the side of St Francis and all those cats in the central park of Miraflores. At least they are fed, though I feel sad that they don’t have anyone to love them.
Yesterday, balanced on top of a hay bale on a wheelbarrow, I rode out to help feed the heifers.
Those ill-bred cattle all talk with their mouths full and here is what they said:
Cow One – ‘There’s a funny little white creature on top of our food.’
Cow Two – ‘Oh that’s our jailer’s household god.’
Cow One – ‘How do you know?’
Cow Three- ‘Didn’t you hear the man? He said “Where’s your orb and crown, little master?”
Cow One – ‘A god! Looks like a large white puffball to me.’
You can imagine my reaction. First of all I’m denigrated as ‘funny little creature’, then I’m elevated to godhod (my true status), then reduced to mere royalty before being cast down the social scale again. Trust those silly heifers to be confused as to the real state of affairs.
I was closer to the man, aka Duvet Denier, and I know what he actually said. Nothing as elevated as orbs and crowns. His real words were ” Here, you’re off and down, you little bastard,” as he tipped the hay bale and me onto the ground.
Well honestly. I’d have walked off in a great huff if the heifer field hadn’t been so full of great piles of you know what. Since I didn’t want to step in it I jumped back into the barrow so he would have to wheel me back to the house.
My fantasy of being a conquering hero in a chariot was ruined by the way he tipped and tilted the barrow all the way back and I had to spend the rest of the morning grooming myself in the sun in order to feel better.
Looking on the bright side I’m happy to say that the heifers have gone to the works – well after all they were only barbecue on the hoof – so their grazing ground will now become a hay meadow. That’s Good News because it will fill with field mice and I’ll have fun this coming summer.
I think the world should know that 27,000 New Zealanders have been injured by dogs in the last two years and the total cost to the taxpayer of all the subsequent stitching and hospitalisation was $5 million.
$5 million (!!) is too much to spend upon damage caused by an inferior species. Thinking that the money would be better spent on other things I’ve been puzzling over how to control the scurvy curs.
At first I thought that they could be shut indoors or chained up permanently rather than have the freedom to run around our cities and towns or over the countryside biting people and chasing cats. However, being essentially fairminded and sensible I soon realised that working dogs are essential to a farmer and that to keep all mutts chained or indoors all the time would be cruel.
I’ve thought and thought but see no solution except to muzzle them all with iron face guards. (And I mean proper iron muzzzles not the namby pamby cissy leather variety shown in the photo above). I’ll admit that might make it difficult for them to eat but if you think carefully I know you’ll see that such a tiny sacrifice on the part of dogs could be the answer.
After all, they claim to be man’s best friend…..and greater love…..