Its lucky I don’t live in Westmount. No, not because of the astronomical taxes on those multi-million dollar mansions…”if you have to ask how much, you can’t afford it” seems to be the operative order-of-the-day in the rarefied air of this snooty enclave of the rich and famous (Envious? Bitter? you might ask…Damn right I say!). No, its because I would by now be in jail for all the birdseed lying on my walkways, in violation of that municipality’s by-law against all feeding of wild animals.
This post is sure to kill my cousin George, an expat Canadian working and living for the last few years in Greece. Every time I post something about yet another government incursion into personal freedom, he grows increasingly ballistic and effusive in his barrage of expletives. Well, George, read-em and weep. Full story here. Just take a Valium beforehand.
Which reminds me….last night I got a call from my son working on his car in our garage. “Can’t you hear the raccoon orgy on our front lawn?” he said. Apparently a group of four raccoons were having some kind of beach-blanket bingo out there. Hmmm…..maybe over some birdseed? I wonder.