On a fishing expedition

It was warm and sunny; a perfect Tel Aviv spring day last Saturday. George and I went to the beach where he was unleashed and allowed to run free for two hours

As we walked on our 12 kilometer walk, I listened to Radio Swiss Classic and George played with other dogs, took an unauthorized dip in the cold Mediterranean and feasted on pitta, kebab, steak bones and what have you left behind by the night crowd before the cleaning squads had arrived.

After two hours, George and I headed home. At the first stop light, I noticed a fishing line hanging from his mouth. I thought it was just stuck in his teeth so I opened his mouth and saw it was not attached to his teeth. I gave a pull and nothing happened. George felt no pain at all; he was wagging his tail and licking my hand.

I was worried sick however. I drove to  the vet, Dr Yuval, whose clinic is open  and fully staffed on Saturdays. Dr Yael, the duty veterinarian, made several efforts to extract the line and when that failed, she took an X-ray. “It’s not good. He needs urgent surgery. I will call Dr Yuval to come in to operate. It will take time. He is up north”.

Dr Yuval was tending to his vineyard in Zichron, which is an hours drive from the clinic. Within 40 minutes, Yuval ran in, and George was put under the knife to extract the fishing hook from the muscle where his esophagus meets his intestine. The surgery took a long time. And I watched it on a monitor, feeling that I just cannot let him go though this without me being as close as I can.

Under the knife-George’s stomach

I was terribly  upset before during and after this incident. I also felt guilty for unleashing George and trying to pull out the fishing line.I told myself  that I wish that  this was happening to me and not to George.

“Go home and come back at 9 pm (in 7 hours)”, I was told.

Take me home

As directed I returned to the clinic, shaking like a leaf. George pulled himself to his feet, although he was certainly not wagging his tail. That’s for sure.

After a course of antibiotics, tender loving care, half a chicken a day and a few pain killers, George has fully recovered, playing Frisbee, having great sex with his favourite  pillow and begging me to replace his dog food with yet another roasted chicken.

Thanks to Dr Yuval and Dr Yael.

אין כמוכם

Back to normal

I created a fictional HR manager named Gloria Ramsbottom-Lemieux two years ago.

Gloria is a woman. This may shock PC readers. I try to be correct, but not politically correct. We know that most HR managers are men and CEO’s are women, don’t we?

Why did I create Gloria?

There is a new generation of HR managers that “upset” me. They suffer from an overdose of slogans and screw the masses,  dressed up as “HR business partners”.

Low in the intellect department, they overdose technology, serving as running dogs of the status quo, refusing to confront the powers that be,  just to preserve their seat at the table.

They prefer motivational speakers to tackle issues of the immensely complex human condition at work. Everything needs to be wow, or wow wow. Or nice.

Gloria is my own grotesque version of such an HR manager, created “in line with my core value of anger management”. Laughter beats tears.

On Dec 5th, 2014, Google agreed to allow me to monetize the Gloria site, based on traffic and content.

Those who were with me on the OD list serve (where Gloria began her career) may understand how happy I am.

Gloria’s blog can be found at ramsbottom-lemieux.blogspot.co.il

Here is a link to her biography.

Let there be no doubt. Gloria and all characters in the blog are inspired by real situations. Gloria as a person, however, is a fictional character. Many people believe she is real and she gets fan mail.

Please note: