A memorial to a Polish bear

There’s a campaign to erect a memorial a Polish bear. Well, an Iranian bear enlisted in the Polish army.

No joke.

Known as the “soldier bear” he saw action at Monte Cassino, in Italy, before being billeted – along with about 3,000 other Polish troops – at a camp in the Scottish borders.

And like any other combatant, he is even said to have had an official name, rank and number.

Now a campaign is underway to build a permanent British memorial to the remarkable bear who fought so valiantly for the Allied forces and lived out his final days in Edinburgh Zoo.

Voytek the Bear carried munitions for the troops and also discovered a spy. And his reward? Beer and cigarettes and access to the shower hut. Oh, and a retirement villa at the Edinburgh Zoo, where apparently his old comrades tried to chuck him cigarettes.

Polish veteran Augustyn Karolewski, 82, who still lives near the site of the camp in Berwickshire, said: ‘He was like a big dog, no-one was scared of him. “He liked a cigarette, he liked a bottle of beer – he drank a bottle of beer like any man.”

When the troops were demobilised, Voytek spent his last days at Edinburgh Zoo, where died in 1963.

Mr Karolewski went back to see him on a couple of occasions and found he still responded to the Polish language. He explained: “I went to Edinburgh Zoo once or twice when Voytek was there. “As soon as I mentioned his name he would sit on his backside and shake his head wanting a cigarette. “It wasn’t easy to throw a cigarette to him – all the attempts I made until he eventually got one.”

Yes, you can just imagine the Polish old soldier tossing lit cigarettes into the bear enclosure. Or did he toss him cigarettes and a lighter. If so, that’s one talented bear.

Anyway, best of luck getting a memorial to Voytek the Polish bear.

—————

Reminds me of that bear that lived at a gas station in Pigeon Forge, TN. It was before my time, but I’ve been told that there was a bear that lived in a cage at this gas station in Pigeon Forge. It was kind of a tourist attraction. Obviously you can’t do that sort of thing anymore, but folks would do anything to drum up business. Even cage a bear and show it off to the motor tourists. Sad really.

And like Voytek, this bear was partial to treats of a human nature. You know, junk food. Snack cakes. Peanuts. Bottles of coke and 7-up. He especially liked the coke. You could hand it into his big paws (if you were brave enough) and he’d tip it up and drink it right down.

Well, one day some drunken rednecks or maybe it was some uncouth yankees who weren’t raised to know any better gave the bear some gasoline in one of those coke bottles. Just handed it right over. They probably reckoned that the bear wouldn’t actually drink it. But it did. Just tipped the bottle up and drank it right down.

Well, that gas didn’t agree with the bear. It started frothing at the mouth and raging and rattling in its cage and throwing itself about. And to be honest, the workmanship on the cage maybe wasn’t what it should have been. Anyway, the bear got loose (scaring the pants off the drunken rednecks or uncouth yankees, depending on who’s telling the story). And it took off up the road. Back towards the park. I guess it wanted to go home. (Well, who can blame it?)

That bear ran right up the road. And the people in the cars were pulling over. It ran up past where the outlet malls are. It ran up past the all those miniature golf places that are there now. It ran past where Porpoise Island used to be. It ran on past where Dollywood is now. It just ran and ran.

It was running up toward the park and then, just about where the welcome sign is for the park it just stopped. Fell over in the road. Fell into a huddled hunk of bear right there.

And you know what happened?

…

….

….

….

It ran out of gas.

_________

Sorry. Sorry. My friend Vol-K told me that story one time as we were leaving the park, just as we were passing the sign and going the other way into Pigeon Forge. Man, she totally got me, too.

Years and years later she was visiting me in London and telling me about the bear scene in that horrible movie Borat and I said -“Did I ever tell you about that bear that was up in Pigeon Forge?” And she said no – and she had totally forgotten the story and I got her with it. Ha, joke revenge.

-0-

Check out these awesome bear pics. Including this one, which should be a lesson to all gas station bears.

Welcome sign photo from Flickr user The Paradigm Shifter used under Creative Commons license.

The disputes of the wallabies

Doot-do-do, I’m eating my cabbage, yummy cabbage.

That’s a tasty leaf you got there.

Hey wait a minute, that’s mine!

Maybe we can share?

Or maybe not now that it’s got your slobber on it.

Or yours.

The mismanagement of the social diary

Do y’all remember that Andy Griffith episode wherein Andy is overwhelmed with social engagements? A dinner party and a bridge night. And he reckons that he can go to both if he skips dessert. But the problem is that he goes to dinner at the bridge folks’ house and then he shows up to play cards after the dinner party is over.

Yep.

We were invited to a family party this weekend several hours away by car. The Vol-in-Law isn’t especially close to his extended family, but he really wanted to show off his new boy – especially since he’s the first of his generation to reproduce.

The last time we went up there we did have two social engagements. A traditional wedding in this quaint East of England village and then a wedding reception back in London with yummy margaritas made with real limeade smuggled in from the States. We actually did go to both.

And did you know that champagne does not mix well with tequila? I’m saving you the two-day hangover by telling you now.

This time we didn’t have two social engagements.

But we got the day wrong. (And by we, I’d like to make it clear that I’m taking corporate responsibility for the actions of another member of our family management team.)

Because of the baby, we went up the night before so we’d be fresh and ready for the day long party. Only as soon as we arrived, after packing and dealing with the baby. And did you know how much stuff you have to pack for a baby? And then driving up and checking in. And then we discover that we got the day wrong. And the party is almost over.

So we change out of our baby food decorated clothes and run up there. Where Buddy appeared for a quick photo call (at one point there were four or five cameras flashing and popping in his face), which Buddy loves. He’s ready for his close up now.

And then we go back to our bed and breakfast. And that’s it.

Oh, except for the travel cot which Buddy mistook for some kind of Dick Cheney approved interrogation cage and just would not use. And the bed that was way too small. And the heat that went off at two in the tiny room with no insulation – meaning it was hot, hot, hot and then freezing cold. So no sleep.

But all was not lost. For on the way back we stopped at Woburn Safari Park, where we petted wallabies.

Soltice sun

Yesterday was the shortest day of the year and also the Vol-in-Law’s birthday. As we did last year, we took a walk in the deer park.

It was very cold and the lake was frozen over

And the pond was frozen over, too. And we learned that ducks either can’t read or just think that it won’t happen to them.

Busy mom’s poinsettia

A couple of years ago Busy Mom blogged about a weird light up poinsettia Christmas decoration that she’d somehow inherited. As usual, it was a funny post. Ha, ha. All the comments were like “Poor Busy Mom, but you should see the weird decorations I/ my in-laws have” But me – I was like, “Man, I want a light up poinsettia.”

Oddly, I think about that thing, every now and again. But I try not to comment on it more than once a year. I don’t want her to think I’m internet stalking her Christmas decorations or anything.

So when Busy Mom opened a contest to win an MP3 player of a well-known brand and all you had to do was name the craziest thing you’d ever bought online – I thought, well, if she’d sell that poinsettia to me – that would be the craziest thing I’d ever bought online.

But honestly, I couldn’t think of anything really crazy that I’d ever bought online. I did shop for door knockers on e-bay. I wanted something kind of different, kind of unique and I got some kind of weird lion manimal thing that reminded me of that mutant lion-guy show that used to be on tv in the 80s. (What was that show?) And I do do a lot of shopping online – but mostly for things like cereal or diapers – as we have our groceries delivered.

But then I did remember something I had bought online. Something that might fall more into the stupid than the crazy category. This was my contest entry:

I bought a house for frogs. We found a bunch of tadpoles near my in-laws house in Scotland and my husband carried them down to London on the plane. We dug out a pond for them in our garden – but they needed some place to live after they got legs, right?

So, I bought a frog house online. It was really cute, with a thatched roof and everything. It wasn’t forty dollars cute though. (I’m an idiot). And the frogs? After the first storm they hopped away and we never saw them again.

My cats enjoyed sitting on the forty dollar frog house for a while and sharpened their claws on the thatched roof. And now, it’s forty dollar mulch.

Yeah, of course when I bought the frog house the dollar hadn’t slid into the latrine storage area so it wasn’t actually a forty dollar frog house – but it was still stupid enough. I mean any money spent on a house for frogs is stupid money. After all, how would they know the house was for them? I should have bought the $5 sign that said “Frog house”.

You can see a corner of the thatched roof here in the lower left hand corner of this picture.

And I do know what some of you must be thinking – Did she buy that paint-it-yourself gnome online? If so, why is she going on about the frog house being the craziest thing ever?

Well, I didn’t buy the paint-it-yourself gnome – online or anywhere else. My mom did, online. That’s what we got for Christmas last year. The now inhabit a very, very dark corner of the garden. Next to the frog house.

Anyway, you can add your own entry up til tomorrow over here.

Put me in the zoo

Last year on our vacation to Normandy and Brittany, we visited Branfrere animal park where we saw (and petted) wallabies amongst other animaux.

Although our holiday this year was was but three days and two nights, we thought we’d take in a nice big zoo. The Port Lympne Zoo looked pretty good, although had I seen a topo map of the place I’m sure we would have avoided it.

And the philosophy of the park was quite different. At Branfere – the animals were on show – but on their own little islands – giving them the illusion of freedom and us the illusion of proximity. And indeed many animals were allowed to roam free around the park. At the Port Lympne ticket booth we were warned that it wasn’t a zoo, but rather a park dedicated to conservation, where the animals really do come first. And that meant that they kept the night shelters open during the day and that the enclosures were really big (and as turns out full of weeds) which meant that it might require patience to see the animals.

If we hadn’t already stood in line for nearly an hour just to buy our tickets, I might have turned around.

When I pay a bunch of money to go into a zoo, I expect to see some animals. And they should either be available for petting or feeding or they should do some funny tricks.

Many of the cages at Port Lympne appeared to be empty. Animals were either hiding or sleeping in others – and given that the enclosures were so big – that meant that there was a heckuva lotta walking between boring animal displays. And given the steepness of many of the paths and us pushing a stroller full of baby and baby accessories, it was a lot of work to catch a glimpse of a “small cat” that looked suspiciously like the neighborhood tabby.

But they did actually have some cool animals:

We saw baby lions

gorillas

monkeys

(our own little ginger monkey?)

red pandas

and rhinos

Gone native

Now we all know that the situation in the Levant has been hot for a long time. No matter what side you come down on, it seems like everybody has a side. Personally, I plumped for Israel ages ago. It’s not something I think much about. I don’t discuss it much, because it’s one of those things that I’m not likely to change my mind about. No, in fact, I won’t change my mind. I guess it’s tribal.

I could go on about the Palestinians this, the Israelis that, but if you have an entrenched position on the matter I’m not likely to change your mind either.

Suffice to say, little that the Palestinians do surprises me much. The photos of the wee kids holding some pretty heft weaponry and just waiting for the day that their martyrdom dream comes true is sickening but doesn’t really work me up.

But this video from Palestinian children’s tv showing a man in a bee suit abusing cats and lions in the Gaza zoo just floors me.

And there you go, I’ve gone British. They’re abusing animals now. I may just have to write a strongly worded letter.

______

HT: Harry’s Place

Wild wetlands

I’ve been wanting to go to the London Wetland Centre for years. It looked like fun. A little wildlife reserve right in the middle of London. We could see the birds and the water plants and yadda, yadda, yadda.

Well, we never managed to go. Until Monday. You see, I finally feel like getting out a little bit and we wanted to do something different. Something we could take a baby to. A baby who does not sleep much in the day. A baby who does not suffer from a weak cry. So a nice outdoor activity seemed good.

Except, apparently, a lot of what makes the wetland centre so fun is its interpretive exhibits. Exhibits that are pretty much all inside. And an adventure playground that we’re too big for and Cletus is too little for.

So we walked around the vast acreage – but the only thing was that path space was actually quite limited – and you’re only allowed to walk around maybe two-thirds of the perimeter and none of the wetland area – which is all blocked off from both foot traffic and they eyeline of anyone shorter than 12 feet – to respect the bird’s privacy or something.

Of course, there are hides from which to watch the birds. And on the outside of each hide there’s a sign saying

Quiet. Birds have ears.

Really? I’ve never seen a bird ear. Have you?

But Cletus can’t read yet and he did scream every time we entered an indoor area. So we couldn’t really see any birds except the ones on the main paths. But those were just regular old birds – birds that I could see in just about any old London park.

And we paid big bucks for the privilege. I wanted to tell those shy birds behind the hedges: “Hey, this is London. Nobody but Russian oligarchs get everything they want in terms of real estate. If you can’t stand sharing your space, why don’t you bugger off to the country?”

-0-

Some people did seem to be enjoying the centre, though. But these visitors fell into two narrow categories:

• Mums with children between 3 and 8
• Slightly creepy looking men, on their own, carrying cameras with giant lenses

And I couldn’t help but wonder how the park managed to sort out the bird watchers from the pedophiles.

-0-

Some photos I took:

And this frog which was sitting in the drainage ditch outside the centre. The Vol-in-Law, whose one word review of the centre was not glowing, said he enjoyed the frog the best.

Holy Cow!

Well, not exactly a holy cow, more like a holy bull. Shambo is a temple bull at Skanda Vale, in Wales, who tested positive for bovine TB. So, as part of the effort to control cattle consumption, Shambo has to go.

But the monks of Shambo’s temple don’t want him to be sacrificed on the altar of agribusinesses. They say that Shambo should be allowed to live.

I would tend to agree.

Now, first let me say, I’m not entirely sentimental about hamburger on the hoof. I’ve been to bull fights (and had a good time) and I do like steak (medium rare). But it does seem to me that he can be suitably quarantined from the rest of the cow population of Wales and saving Shambo could avoid a lot of unnecessary human suffering and much kerfuffle.

There have already been two appeals of the slaughter order. One to overturn the slaughter and one to overturn the overturn. So Shambo – according to a high court ruling today – is due to die.

The temple devotees are not going to give up on Shambo. I can’t imagine that there’s going to be a Waco type standoff, but they clearly mean business. On their website they promise:

We could no more allow the slaughter of Shambo than we could the killing of a human being. Ultimately we would be willing to defend his life with our own.

and they have exhorted others to come to their aid. I’m not really ready to form part of human chain around Shambo or even sign the online petition, but I’ll happily direct interested readers saving Shambo online – in fact here’s an image from his web cam (of course he has a web cam).

I can’t recommend it as the most exciting online viewing. But it was kind of cool when he moved from the right side of his pen to more kind of the middle.

And that’s no bull.

No goose down

I posted yesterday about my fears for the welfare of a pair of Egyptian Goose Goslings. Well, I think saw them today in our walk in the park.

They were really cute before:

But I’m afraid that when they get big…

–they get ugly

(But like so ugly they’re kinda cute…) Anyway, I was relieved to see them. And then just as we were moving on – some woman’s dog starts chasing after them and they just barely made it to the water in time. I thought I was going to see the little goslings get eaten after all. Then the dog remembered he could swim. And I really thought I was gonna see gosling slaughter. But, the dog gave up.

And what did the owner do? Did she call him off. No, she just chuckled indulgently.

-0-

We saw other kinds of wicked bird behavior today, too. The swans with their swanlings thought that a Canadian goose got a little too close for comfort so the swan bit down on the goose’s ass feathers. The goose swam/water skated/flew all over the place trying to shake his tail feathers (and the swan) – but not til the goose got onto land did the swan let go. It was hilarious. Though kind of scary.

Swans. Did you know that they can break your arm with one beat of their mighty wings?