For those who live anywhere near Polis Chrysochous, you may or not be aware that the municipality has a dog pound and someone who is theoretically in charge of it. They supply food and water, and a caged area for the strays. After fifteen days (and this is the point of this post) the dogs are put to sleep unless someone comes forward to claim them or offer them a home.
Step forward Ruby Pearl Evans from Lysos who is the dogs' guardian angel. I cannot remember the exact number but she has over a dozen rescue dogs living with her at home, and she makes the journey from Lysos to the pound twice a day to feed the dogs, play with them and clear up the mess they inevitably leave. When the dogs have been there for more than fifteen days, she then pays for food for them out of her own pocket in the hope she can find them homes before they have to be put to sleep.
My heart bleeds for these dogs (and the many thousands and thousands of dogs in pounds, and running loose) and it is a sad reflection on this country that nothing more is being done. As some of you may know we have adopted a lovely young dog (who reminds us of Harvey in those brilliant tv adverts a couple of years ago) and she is slowly coming to terms with us and our two cats.
We have offered to help Ruby with the feeding of the puppies a couple of times a week, and I know another woman has also offered help. But I wonder whether animal lovers in the area might step forward to help. Anyone wanting to offer one of these gorgeous puppies a home (or even a foster home) would be welcome with open arms.
I realise it is no small thing to adopt a dog but ...
Tuesday, 25 July 2017
Sunday, 23 July 2017
It was inevitable, I suppose ...
Ann and I offered to help a local lady, who made a plea for help on Facebook, and who has taken responsibility for looking after the dogs in the Polis pound. We agreed to meet her on Thursday at the pound to feed and play with the dogs there. Ann and I had a long talk before going, and both agreed we would not take any dog or dogs home - no matter how appealing they were.
And so we arrived and were given entrance to the enclosure. There were about ten dogs there, one large male in a cage (as one of the bitches was in season) and about seven or eight very young puppies, all of whom were very excited to see us. Ann's shoelaces were a terrific attraction, and a couple of the puppies helped her to undo them. After removing the shoelaces there was a terrific tug-of-war to gain control of the aforementioned laces.
On Saturday morning, despite all we had said, we returned to pick up Daisy (a three-year old bitch) to take her home for the weekend on trial. Our cats sulked and stared, whilst Daisy kept her distance and just wagged her tail. She obviously wants to be the best of friends with everyone. Our garden is not yet dog-proof and our friend Tim came round to suggest the best way to make it so. By the way things have gone, it will be off to the hardware shop early next week.
The day proceeded in a fairly predictable fashion and Daisy followed us around wherever we went. We had cool water available for her and we had bought some dog food on the way back from the pound. Daisy was found by some Swiss (I think) tourists who were lost. She was tied to a tree, and there were no houses in sight. As they were lost, they could not tell exactly where that was. She was not microchipped but was obviously from a domestic environment. Why she was abandoned, God alone knows.
She is a beautiful girl with a lovely white coat. If all goes well she will have to be speyed at the end of next week, have her inoculations, and have her anti-flea and anti-tick treatment reinforced. Then she will have to be microchipped, registered and apparently we should have a sign for the gate saying "Beware of the dog". Being British we shall, of course, obey the rules. Happy days ahead ...
And so we arrived and were given entrance to the enclosure. There were about ten dogs there, one large male in a cage (as one of the bitches was in season) and about seven or eight very young puppies, all of whom were very excited to see us. Ann's shoelaces were a terrific attraction, and a couple of the puppies helped her to undo them. After removing the shoelaces there was a terrific tug-of-war to gain control of the aforementioned laces.
On Saturday morning, despite all we had said, we returned to pick up Daisy (a three-year old bitch) to take her home for the weekend on trial. Our cats sulked and stared, whilst Daisy kept her distance and just wagged her tail. She obviously wants to be the best of friends with everyone. Our garden is not yet dog-proof and our friend Tim came round to suggest the best way to make it so. By the way things have gone, it will be off to the hardware shop early next week.
The day proceeded in a fairly predictable fashion and Daisy followed us around wherever we went. We had cool water available for her and we had bought some dog food on the way back from the pound. Daisy was found by some Swiss (I think) tourists who were lost. She was tied to a tree, and there were no houses in sight. As they were lost, they could not tell exactly where that was. She was not microchipped but was obviously from a domestic environment. Why she was abandoned, God alone knows.
She is a beautiful girl with a lovely white coat. If all goes well she will have to be speyed at the end of next week, have her inoculations, and have her anti-flea and anti-tick treatment reinforced. Then she will have to be microchipped, registered and apparently we should have a sign for the gate saying "Beware of the dog". Being British we shall, of course, obey the rules. Happy days ahead ...
Friday, 7 July 2017
The "Cyprus Syndrome"
I have come to the conclusion that there is definitely a "Cyprus Syndrome" which affects Britons living here. It all comes down to the small communities in which we live, and it may be something to do with the fact we live on the outskirts of a small village - rather than living in the centre of Limassol.
In the UK we had, and still have, friends with whom we keep in touch and who come out occasionally to visit. They all had one thing in common. They were of a similar age (although some are younger), and had similar interests to us, and - by and large - were professionally employed. British people, by and large (and there's a generalisation for you), tend to feel comfortable when they live alongside people like them. Human beings have evolved into tribal creatures and that's the way they like it. It explains a great deal about the problems immigration throws up in the UK.
But in Cyprus, with a much smaller population, quite often British people congregate and "make friends" with other Britons. Are these "friends" true friends? I am not so sure. When we first arrived we held a party at our new home, and there were a few Greek Cypriots (who all sat together and talked to each other) and some people who had offered advice or help before we came out here to live. One couple became proper friends, until his untimely death in a car crash, another couple became "friends" and we haven't heard from them for months and months and months. Other guests turned out not to be "our cup of tea", and so any relationship withered.
I believe some expats collect "friends" almost like a safety blanket. Others want to be "best friends forever" within a few hours of meeting. But when I compare them to our friends in the UK it took years and years before the friendships developed. And so the "Cyprus Syndrome" ... I wonder whether all expat communities have the same or similar syndromes? Only time will tell.
In the UK we had, and still have, friends with whom we keep in touch and who come out occasionally to visit. They all had one thing in common. They were of a similar age (although some are younger), and had similar interests to us, and - by and large - were professionally employed. British people, by and large (and there's a generalisation for you), tend to feel comfortable when they live alongside people like them. Human beings have evolved into tribal creatures and that's the way they like it. It explains a great deal about the problems immigration throws up in the UK.
But in Cyprus, with a much smaller population, quite often British people congregate and "make friends" with other Britons. Are these "friends" true friends? I am not so sure. When we first arrived we held a party at our new home, and there were a few Greek Cypriots (who all sat together and talked to each other) and some people who had offered advice or help before we came out here to live. One couple became proper friends, until his untimely death in a car crash, another couple became "friends" and we haven't heard from them for months and months and months. Other guests turned out not to be "our cup of tea", and so any relationship withered.
I believe some expats collect "friends" almost like a safety blanket. Others want to be "best friends forever" within a few hours of meeting. But when I compare them to our friends in the UK it took years and years before the friendships developed. And so the "Cyprus Syndrome" ... I wonder whether all expat communities have the same or similar syndromes? Only time will tell.
Monday, 12 June 2017
For the public good?
Regular readers of this blog will know that my opinion of politicians is not great, and events over the last few weeks have not improved this situation. Where are the men and women of stature, of integrity, of intellect with an overwhelming desire to "serve" the public? One thing for sure is that they do not exist amongst the current crop of politicians in the UK.
The latest shenanigans ... the calling of a "snap election" and then allowing the campaign to run for seven weeks ... defies belief. Every student of politics knows that, if there is a substantial lead in the polls, then that lead will wither under the glare of the media and the campaigning of the opposition parties. And so, it does not take a genius to work out, that you allow the campaign to run for the shortest possible time ... and so the Conservatives allowed the campaign to run for seven weeks and watched their lead whittled away.
Since the election I have watched in stunned disbelief as the PM scrabbles around trying to maintain a tenuous grip on power and it would seem that, at the time of writing, she is contemplating a deal with the DUP. For goodness' sake, Ian Paisley will be rising from the grave. Apart from threatening the fragile Northern Ireland peace process, has she considered what these Neanderthals claim to believe? I don't know about Ian Paisley rising from the grave, but I would imagine Margaret Thatcher turning in hers.
All the talk is about when she will be stabbed in the back. But you only have to look at those waiting in the wings (all claiming loyalty) and all sharpening their daggers. Venal, self-serving and totally without a shred of morality, they will put themselves forward for the good of the country. Utter bollocks ...
The latest shenanigans ... the calling of a "snap election" and then allowing the campaign to run for seven weeks ... defies belief. Every student of politics knows that, if there is a substantial lead in the polls, then that lead will wither under the glare of the media and the campaigning of the opposition parties. And so, it does not take a genius to work out, that you allow the campaign to run for the shortest possible time ... and so the Conservatives allowed the campaign to run for seven weeks and watched their lead whittled away.
Since the election I have watched in stunned disbelief as the PM scrabbles around trying to maintain a tenuous grip on power and it would seem that, at the time of writing, she is contemplating a deal with the DUP. For goodness' sake, Ian Paisley will be rising from the grave. Apart from threatening the fragile Northern Ireland peace process, has she considered what these Neanderthals claim to believe? I don't know about Ian Paisley rising from the grave, but I would imagine Margaret Thatcher turning in hers.
All the talk is about when she will be stabbed in the back. But you only have to look at those waiting in the wings (all claiming loyalty) and all sharpening their daggers. Venal, self-serving and totally without a shred of morality, they will put themselves forward for the good of the country. Utter bollocks ...
Tuesday, 30 May 2017
Guilty pleasures ...
There seems to be something inherently wrong about enjoying yourself whilst the world is doing its best to tear itself to pieces. The UK is in turmoil with possibly the least competent and likeable (and nobody can mention "charismatic") politicians in my lifetime lying and making impossible promises, whilst the rest of Europe cannot quite believe the mess the British have got themselves into. Add in to the mix terrorist outrages, the continuing drownings in the Mediterranean Sea, Turkey (and that one word says it all) and the unbelievable Trump posturing around Europe, and it seems at face value that all is bad.
We went out for a drink yesterday afternoon and were hailed by a couple I recognised but can hardly call as friends - more casual acquaintances, and friends of friends. Ann went over to say hello. She is suffering from a brain tumour, and has been given months to live. He, quite understandably, looked a hundred years older than I remembered him. And yet, there they were, living life to the fullest extent they could.
It was a sobering experience and made coming home to enjoy ourselves all the more poignant. We had gin and tonic by the pool, a quite delicious lunch of cold, roast chicken, salad and the best-tasting potato salad I can remember (made even better by Ann picking some spearmint she had planted). After that we sat on the steps of the pool, until I decided that I just had to go in for a swim. Encouraged by Ann, (who refused to let me dawdle as I came to terms with the water temperature) I swam a few lengths and dried off in the sunshine.
It was a lovely couple of hours to end an interesting day, but in the back of my mind, I felt slightly guilty enjoying myself when surrounded by some much doom and gloom. I read recently that you should live every day as if it is your last, and perhaps the writer was correct. No one knows when the number 52 bus is just around the corner.
Sunday, 14 May 2017
"Mind your language"
Like many people I use Facebook as there are a number of groups on there I interact with, and - for example - my IPTV provider uses a closed group to answer technical problems with certain channels. I often read these posts, as my knowledge increases by seeing how other problems are resolved. Unfortunately, being Facebook, there is the ability for people to comment on other peoples' posts.
I posted the other day about the HD version of a channel, and pointed out that the definition was too high to play smoothly on my television, which only played at a maximum of 720 dpi, rather than proper HD which is 1080 dpi. The first comment was "For fuck's sake, get with the programme." It took me a few minutes to work out what this guy was referring to, and this was helped by the next post. "Christ, don't be such a fucking tight wad. HD TVs are as cheap as chips." There were other posts in a similar vein, almost all using somewhat robust language.
In any event it caused me to think about the way bad language has permeated all levels of society, from the Duke of Edinburgh telling a photographer "Just take the fucking picture" to the poorly educated who commented about my television set. What a great shame for all who value the English language and the English way of life. I can remember a headmaster telling the boys at a school where I taught about bad language. He explained that it was a fact of life that people swore. As I remember he told them that when he hit his thumb with a hammer he did not just say "Oh bother". He was telling impressionable schoolboys that there should be a legitimate reason for using bad language.
I went back to Facebook and read random comments made in other groups. Many, many posters were almost functionally illiterate and could not construct a meaningful sentence. Yes ... I do understand that this is social media and that "text speak" is all the rage. But ... I cannot decide whether this makes me an old fogey or not. On balance I swear when the metaphorical hammer hits my thumb. The decision, as they say, is yours.
I posted the other day about the HD version of a channel, and pointed out that the definition was too high to play smoothly on my television, which only played at a maximum of 720 dpi, rather than proper HD which is 1080 dpi. The first comment was "For fuck's sake, get with the programme." It took me a few minutes to work out what this guy was referring to, and this was helped by the next post. "Christ, don't be such a fucking tight wad. HD TVs are as cheap as chips." There were other posts in a similar vein, almost all using somewhat robust language.
In any event it caused me to think about the way bad language has permeated all levels of society, from the Duke of Edinburgh telling a photographer "Just take the fucking picture" to the poorly educated who commented about my television set. What a great shame for all who value the English language and the English way of life. I can remember a headmaster telling the boys at a school where I taught about bad language. He explained that it was a fact of life that people swore. As I remember he told them that when he hit his thumb with a hammer he did not just say "Oh bother". He was telling impressionable schoolboys that there should be a legitimate reason for using bad language.
I went back to Facebook and read random comments made in other groups. Many, many posters were almost functionally illiterate and could not construct a meaningful sentence. Yes ... I do understand that this is social media and that "text speak" is all the rage. But ... I cannot decide whether this makes me an old fogey or not. On balance I swear when the metaphorical hammer hits my thumb. The decision, as they say, is yours.
Sunday, 7 May 2017
UK Politics ... what a shambles ...
I have often written about my dissatisfaction with politicians, irrespective of party, and their mendacious and amoral approach to their "jobs". Never has this been more apparent than in the last couple of years. It is apparent that expenses are still a trough into which many MPs dig their snouts, just having to be slightly more circumspect about their accounting. In fact I often wonder how MPs manage find the time to sit on committees, take part in debates and look after the interests of their constituents whilst milking the taxpayer.
The decision to call a General Election was absolutely correct if (setting aside what is best of the country) your sole purpose is to stay in power. Any Prime Minister in living memory would have called an election if their main opposition was in such a parlous state. The prospects of a landslide will only benefit the occupants of the Westminster "bubble" and will not improve the situation for anyone else. I despair to see an opposition that is totally unable to land any sort of meaningful blow on the government, although the right wing media would not let us, the voters, see it even if it happened.
We are, as expats, part of that group that are - or may be - used as bargaining chips by either side. In the same way the three million EU citizens living and mainly working in the UK are in a similar position. How dare the politicians who are elected (and that has nothing to do with the EU bureaucracy) to serve us take that approach. It would seem that citizens count for very little in modern Britain. No doubt politicians sleep well at night, if only due to the exhaustion they must all be feeling as they fill out more expenses' claims.
Where are the men and women of honour I remember from my youth who put the UK and its citizens first, second and third? I can remember Sir Alec Douglas Home resigning in 1964 after suffering a narrow election defeat and his humility and honesty have stayed with me to this day. When I look back at Blair, Brown, Cameron and May ... I am filled with loathing.
The decision to call a General Election was absolutely correct if (setting aside what is best of the country) your sole purpose is to stay in power. Any Prime Minister in living memory would have called an election if their main opposition was in such a parlous state. The prospects of a landslide will only benefit the occupants of the Westminster "bubble" and will not improve the situation for anyone else. I despair to see an opposition that is totally unable to land any sort of meaningful blow on the government, although the right wing media would not let us, the voters, see it even if it happened.
We are, as expats, part of that group that are - or may be - used as bargaining chips by either side. In the same way the three million EU citizens living and mainly working in the UK are in a similar position. How dare the politicians who are elected (and that has nothing to do with the EU bureaucracy) to serve us take that approach. It would seem that citizens count for very little in modern Britain. No doubt politicians sleep well at night, if only due to the exhaustion they must all be feeling as they fill out more expenses' claims.
Where are the men and women of honour I remember from my youth who put the UK and its citizens first, second and third? I can remember Sir Alec Douglas Home resigning in 1964 after suffering a narrow election defeat and his humility and honesty have stayed with me to this day. When I look back at Blair, Brown, Cameron and May ... I am filled with loathing.
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