Apr 122013
 

Voice’s Old Susannah takes a look over the past week’s events in the ‘Deen and beyond. By Suzanne Kelly.

dictionary

It was a very warm welcome at the wonderful Blaikiewell’s when I visited over the weekend; it is a great spot.  There is much to do to ensure its future, but certain figures have pledged to help, and hopefully this great sanctuary will carry on.

BrewDog launched its new ‘Fake’ Lager, which  was a huge success.  I had a nice chat with Alicia Bruce, and hope to have an interview with her on Aberdeen Voice shortly.

News-wise Spoiler Alert:  Mrs Thatcher died; North Korea threatens to wage war, and horse meat tainted with the carcinogen ‘Bute’ are in the food chain, despite previous EU assurances this wasn’t the case.

That the EU got something wrong is obviously the surprise of the week.  Worse still, Psy is releasing a ‘serious’ music video, and Kelly Brook accidentally went around with her dress unzipped.

Astonishingly, there was a photographer to hand.

Faced with all these overwhelming developments, and as a mark of something or other, please be advised that this column will be a bit light on the sarcasm this week.  Normal services resume will resume shortly.

On the national scene, Kent Police’s Youth Police and  Crime Commissioner Paris was forced to resign after some of her old tweets came back to haunt her, throwing huge shadows on her role.  Some one-hundred and sixty people went out for the really cool, hip youth police job, but she was the best candidate.  Makes you wonder.

Despite making drug-related and racist tweets prior to taking the job on more than a few occasions, Paris is not a racist, just someone who makes racist remarks to show off.  Confusing her with a racist is an easy mistake to make; apparently all the young people are showing off by trying to look like bigots.

Thankfully nothing like that could ever happen in Aberdeen.  It is not as if there are any would-be youth leaders involved in campaigns at present organising demos, holding meetings, and getting involved with politicians and academics who have previously made any dubious internet postings.  I’m certain our local political parties and august educational institutions would never get involved with anyone with a dubious history.

As Ms Brown learnt, things never really get deleted from cyberspace.  Can you imagine what a web of intrigue would surround such a revelation here?

In life as in death, Margaret has split opinion

There was no shortage of colourful news close to home, either.  I knew our politicians had great talent, but I hadn’t appreciated that faith healing was one of their skills.

We had the one who was able to make money disappear right before our eyes; we named a street after him for a bit.

We have HoMalone who can grow trees on a severely polluted hill. To this goddess a herd of deer were sacrificed (it’s just as well she’s sure those trees will grow: I think more than a few people will be slightly cross if they don’t).  She also could make things disappear, like the people who previously voted Lib Dem.

We also had a councillor who was very gifted with young people, serving on the Youth festival, and kindly offering lifts to any young people who he found walking the streets late at night.  But faith healing.  Wow.

In life as in death, Margaret has split opinion and bitter division erupts. Champagne corks popped in the streets of Glasgow; others mourned her and placed flowers in locations associated with her.

Old Susannah is, as you can imagine, not in the Thatcher fan club.  But I won’t be dancing on her grave, either.

The first person who told me of her death was from a mining family; I can well understand the hatred she inspired in many.  The privatisation of Britain and the selling of the family silverware largely started with her – but others eagerly took up her mantle and mantras.  It’s said that Tony Blair was a sleeper agent of Thatcher’s, and I for one can’t disagree.

She’s gone; many of her destructive policies live on.

There are those who practically want her beatified, and refuse to hear any word against her.  There are those who’d disrupt her funeral.

Gene Roddenberry put forth all sorts of ideas about equality of races and sexes

Once things quieten down, I hope people will increase their focus on the many things that are going wrong under current local, regional and national governments, and start demanding change.

There is a saying ‘only a fool would fight in a burning house’ –  and all things considered, I think we might all be in a burning house together.

This ‘burning house’ proverb is, er, a ‘Klingon’ saying from Star Trek.  Trek’s creator Gene Roddenberry put forth all sorts of ideas about equality of races and sexes, applying wit and logic to problems, science and fact over superstition, and of creating a better world.   One of the episodes had a sub-plot based around the simple benign philosophy of ‘Can I Help?’

I wonder what he’d make of the goings-on today.   He cast people from all races, sexual orientations and religions in his original series.

On that note, it’s time for a few timely definitions

Handbag: (1.  Eng noun) – a satchel or case carried by women filled with personal effects; (2.  Eng verb) – for a woman to suddenly and/or violently carry out a ferocious, withering  verbal attack often while carrying a purse.

Well, the Thatch did give us a new word.  BBC presenters, politicians, her cabinet members and advisers – none were immune from a handbagging from Maggie.

Grown men wept; this was the late 70s and early 80s, and in those somewhat less PC days, our first female PM would rage unbridled abuse on those who dared to look at her oddly, let alone challenge her, in a fashion  which would  be cause for legal action today.

The handbag in question held state documents and god knows what else. Likewise, several latter-day women politicians here in the Deen were known to keep interesting items in their handbags, but that is another matter.

The BBC’s Oliver Lee-Stone has an excellent article cataloguing some of the attacks launched by PM Thatcher on her colleagues, cronies and journalists; many of whom lived in absolute terror of this form of abuse.  In it he quoted Kenneth Baker:-

“”When Maggie was really up against it, she would put her handbag on the cabinet table and take out a well-crumpled paper.  This was the brief that came from no-one knew whom – a friend, or someone who had rung her up.  It was unpredictable, sometimes illuminating, at others weird, sometimes an interesting new light, at others a worthless piece of gossip.  Whenever this happened, the cabinet secretary would pale, and the minister would raise his eyes to the ceiling.”

Alas!  Ironwoman was herself handbagged, in a moment which gave birth to another expression.

A Belgrano Moment: (Mod English phrase) to tell politicians ‘not in my name’ and to call them to account

While the men around her might have quaked with terror, Diana Gould was not having it.  When Ms Gould participated in a BBC question and answer session with Maggie, it was handbags at dawn.

The Falklands war raged; the Belgrano was sunk – while in an exclusion zone.  Margaret T was being interviewed; Sue Lawley, who seems to have been unlucky that day, was given the modern equivalent of the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern treatment – she was fired.  Taking questions from callers, Margaret Thatcher met her match in Diana Gould, Geographer of the Royal Navy.

Maggie held her ground – the Belgrano sinking was the right thing to do.  Gould pulled the rug from under Thatcher’s feet.  Gould wasn’t having it, and sparks and fur flew.  Words fail – the only thing to do is to visit this page, and watch the incident again.

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Apr 122013
 

If you are fond of a flutter on races such as the Grand National or simply enjoy watching horse racing on TV, you might like to consider what you are buying into. Duncan Harley writes.

grand-national-3 Equestrian sport has a long history with records indicating that horse racing occurred in ancient Greece, Babylon, Syria, and Egypt.

In the Roman Empire, chariot and mounted horse racing were major industries as anyone who can remember the film Ben Hur will have realised.

Thoroughbred racing was, and is still of course, popular with the aristocrats and royalty of British society, earning it the title “Sport of Kings.”

I met a man in a pub a few years ago and during the course of a conversation about the world and everything he revealed that his job was to supervise Health and Safety on construction sites. The company he worked for he revealed used to “kill around 26 employees each year” due to accidents and he was very pleased to report that the figure had now dropped to 13 per year.

Jaw dropping figures however you look at them but small fry when the scale of equine death in the name of the Sport of Kings is examined.

Over the past five years around 940 race horses have died on the UK’s 60 race courses. That’s an average of 188 per year and average 3 per race course per year.

The Grand National at Aintree has a fairly poor record in this respect with an average over the last 2 years of two deaths per year for a single race, although this pales into insignificance in comparison to the Aintree’s 28 deaths over the past 5 years which equates to 5.6 horses each year.

What is the problem? Attitudes for a start say Animal Aid. The public like a flutter, the bookies like a profit and many owners view the animals as expendable once the economic value they represent has declined. In fact, leading jockey Katie Walsh has been quoted as saying “I hope to god there are no accidents but these things do happen,” and “they are horses at the end of the day!”

The style of racing, the distances and the type of events vary significantly by the country in which the race is occurring, and many countries offer different types of horse races. There are three major types of racing: flat racing, steeple chasing (racing over jumps), and harness racing, where horses trot or pace while pulling a driver in a sulky.

A major part of horse racing’s economic importance lies in the gambling associated with it, an activity that in 2008 generated a world-wide market worth around US$115 billion.

horse-forvie2 Big business however you look at it and big profits, but at what expense? Where is the Health and Safety for racehorses I wonder? Much has, of course, been made recently of the changes to the jumps at Aintree.

The Aintree course authorities have seemingly made the jumps more visual and in an effort to reduce falls at Becher’s Brook -where 13 falls and 2 fatalities have occurred in the last 5 Grand Nationals -there have been major changes.

The fence took its name from Captain Martin Becher, who fell there from his mount, Conrad, in the first official Grand National in 1839. The Captain seemingly took shelter in the brook to avoid injury. The jump originally consisted of an 8ft-wide brook with a fence set back a yard in front of the water, the ground on the landing side 3ft lower than the take-off side.

In 2011, Aintree announced new modifications to Becher’s Brook following a review of the course in the aftermath of the 2011 Grand National calamity where the public nationwide were treated to views of mayhem and dying horses.

The Daily Mail reported afterwards that:

“Death came again to the Grand National yesterday – and the horror was played out in front of a worldwide television audience of 600 million. They and the thousands who had packed Aintree for the annual cavalry charge looked on as two horses died in appalling falls.”

Amongst the changes to the course, the landing side of Becher’s was re-profiled to reduce the current drop by between 4 and 5 inches across the width of the fence. The drop is now approximately 18 inches on the inside of the course and 13 inches on the outside of the course.

This difference in drop from the inside to the outside of the fence has been retained to encourage riders to spread out across the width of the fence and also to retain the unique characteristics of the fence. The height of the fence remains unaltered at 4 ft 10 inches. All well and good, some would say, but still a real challenge when you consider that the riders and animals typically reach speeds of over 30mph when jumping this obstacle.

A fall at this speed is very likely to cause injury and death to both horse and rider.

Becher’s Brook is of course only one of the sixteen jumps which horse and rider are faced with in the Grand National. Animal aid has named Aintree as the most dangerous racecourse in the country with Becher’s Brook being seen by campaigners as a jump which should be removed forever from the circuit.

critics continue to wonder why these animals are often slaughtered rather than being put out to grass in their old age

But it’s not just deaths during races which concern animal charities however.

Animal Aid, a leading animal welfare charity,  claim that for several years more thoroughbred horses have been bred than have been needed by the racing industry.

A report by the British Horseracing Authority says that in 2011 the number of thoroughbreds reported dead to the horse passport issuing authority rose by 29%, from 1,994 in 2010 to 2,574.

The report titled The Effect of the Recession on the Welfare of British Thoroughbred Horses notes: “Of these, 1,127 horses either in training, breeding or out of training were reported as killed in abattoirs, from 499 horses in 2010, an increase of 126%.”

“To solve this problem we’ve got to stop breeding so many, and then we won’t have to put so many down,” said Carrie Humble, an independent equine welfare consultant. “But I would rather see these overproduced horses dead than suffering.”

All well and good but critics continue to wonder why these animals are often slaughtered rather than being put out to grass in their old age despite the existence of the racing industries own charity for pre-loved racehorses Retraining of Racehorses (RoR). This charity has four centres in the UK and aims to re-home animals which are no longer required in the sport and give advice to those wishing to purchase at bloodstock auctions.

The situation will only get worse say campaigners, as racecourses across the UK suffer dwindling revenues and face closure. Hereford and Folkestone racecourses closed in 2012 and more may follow in their footsteps in 2013.

The British Horseracing Authority, also known as the BHA, is the regulatory authority for horse racing in Great Britain.

Its stated objectives are to:
1. Provide the most compelling and attractive racing in the world.
2. Be seen as the world leader in race day regulation.
3. Ensure the highest standards for the sport and participants, on and away from the racecourse.
4. Promote the best for the racehorse.
5. Represent and promote the sport and the industry.

Critics feel that the BHA is ineffective  in promoting the “the best for the racehorse” and point to the BHA’s own admission in the Thoroughbred Owner and Breeder magazine during 2009, that 7,500 horses leave racing annually but that they could not say what happened to between 3,500 and 4,000 of that total.

A staggering admission indeed by the regulatory authority for horse racing in Great Britain, albeit from 2009, that they simply had no idea of the fate of around 50% of the animals whose welfare they purported to be promoting.

Perhaps its time for some major regulation in the racing industry.

Sources:

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Feb 142013
 

After the revelations about problems in the food chain, vegetarians are probably feeling a bit smug; those folk who for religious reasons avoid certain types meat will be feeling quite concerned, and investors in food testing labs will be rubbing their dividends with some glee! Duncan Harley writes.

FrayBentosThere is of course nothing new here.

Throughout history products such as milk and sugar, coffee and tea, mustard and ketchup, baking powder, butter, cheese, flour, olive oil, honey, spices, vinegar, beef, pork, lard, beer, wine and canned vegetables have been subject to adulteration on a regular basis in the developed world.

Driven by the profit motive, manufacturers and distributors are prone to dupe unsuspecting customers by bulking out foodstuffs with cheap substitutes.

The old stories about sawdust in bread, chalk in baking powder and the adulteration of beer with water all have some basis in truth. A recent case in China involved the adulteration of milk with melamine. After a brief trial in 2008, two executives of the company concerned were sentenced to death and shot.

In 2012, a study in India conducted by the Food Safety Standards Authority of India (FSSAI) across 33 states found that milk in India is adulterated with detergent, fat and even urea, as well diluted with water. At the turn of the 20th century, industrialization in the United States saw an uprise in adulteration and this inspired some protest.

Accounts of adulteration led the New York Evening Post to parody:

Mary had a little lamb,
And when she saw it sicken,
She shipped it off to Packingtown,
And now it’s labelled chicken

Back in the 18th century, people recognized adulteration in food.

“The bread I eat in London is a deleterious paste, mixed up with chalk, alum and bone ashes, insipid to the taste and destructive to the constitution. The good people are not ignorant of this adulteration; but they prefer it to wholesome bread, because it is whiter than the meal of corn [wheat].

“Thus they sacrifice their taste and their health. . . to a most absurd gratification of a misjudged eye; and the miller or the baker is obliged to poison them and their families, in order to live by his profession.” - Tobias Smollet, The Expedition of Humphrey Clinker (1771)

There have been recent warnings that all might not be quite right within the UK meat supply chain. The Food Standards Agency published a report in 2003 entitled “Survey of Undeclared Horsemeat or Donkey meat in Salami and Salami-Type Products”.

Horsemeat2The results from a range of outlets, including supermarkets, independent retailers, catering suppliers and independent butchers indicated were seemingly inconclusive in that only one result showed horse meat in food.This was at the time put down to cross contamination at a French food plant named as “Busso Freres”.

The company promised to introduce additional quality controls to prevent the “mixing or cross contamination of meat species”.

Between September 2006 and September 2009 a Ravenscorpe firm ran a £200,000 food scam on fake halal meat.

There have also been countless instances of so called “organic” foods and “free range eggs” being found to be fake in the UK.

Now I have no problem eating food which is honestly made and honestly labelled. A quick search of my food cupboard reveals a well known brand of tinned pie which I, perhaps unwisely, purchased in my local pound shop since it seemed too good a bargain to miss.

The first two ingredients are listed as “water 30%” and “beef 25%”.

I have wine in the house which will have been clarified using “bulls blood” and beer in my fridge which has been fined using “Isinglass” which is of course a substance obtained from the dried swim bladders of fish. I have on one occasion eaten horsemeat and probably had donkey meat in a Cretan restaurant on a few occasions.

It appears to me however that food regulation has to a great degree been outsourced to suppliers and manufactures quite far down the food processing chain. The end user has little control of the food content beyond either refusing to buy or simply trusting the description on the packaging.

The high street shops and supermarkets seem to be hampered by too many processes along the way making it difficult to track the origin and up until now the content of the foodstuffs they sell to us.

cows beef2Like the banking industry before it, the food industry has betrayed its customers. At what point from the slaughterhouse did the cow become a horse? The bigger question is why no-one is checking.

It’s a bit late now checking samples to find it’s all horse. As consumers we have the right to have our food labelled properly, what’s in it, if a ‘natural ingredient’ is actually some animal gland secretions or if chemically treated  then what with?

This way we can make an informed choice as to what we eat and feed to our families. As vegans say “a horse is a cow is a sheep”. Perhaps we could all get back to home cooking, to be more aware of the ‘crap’ we can avoid, and to choose a healthier option whatever our diet – meat, veggie, vegan etc.

After reviewing the FSA’s response to this and the 2003 salami scandal, I am not sure there is much hope of a government that wants us to be healthy!

Horse meat is around 25% of the cost of beef.

Oct 042012
 

By Suzanne Kelly. 

Rescued dog scarred from being forced to fight Crime involving animals of all kinds, domestic, farm and wild, is on the increase throughout the UK.  There are a wide range of illegal, violent acts taking place up and down the country.  But there are things we can do to help stem the tide.
The details are upsetting.  Horses have been attacked in Cornwall recently, and wildlife crime has been reported in the Scottish Borders.

A golden eagle was killed recently in our own area. It probably suffered for days in an illegal trap.

Conviction is almost always a difficult business.  Thankfully, in Aberdeenshire, the successful prosecution of the Reid Brothers led to the exposure and end of a violent, vicious dog-fighting ring.  These people tortured the unfortunate animals, and for their pleasure filmed the dogfights.

Money is the main motivator. Bets on dogs, though highly illegal, are still making money for those involved.  The dogs are treated inhumanely from birth, usually born to a mother who is kept perpetually pregnant then simply disposed of when worn out.

Even worse, the enjoyment of cruelty is why some people get involved in this crime.

Here is a link to the September 2011 STV story on the Reid Brothers’ conviction. It is distressing.
http://news.stv.tv/north/271235-two-barbaric-brothers-jailed-for-dog-fighting/

But it is also an encouraging story.  The Courts took this case very seriously and imposed custodial sentences on the Reids, who had 6 dogs being trained for fighting.  The ring was exposed, the dogs which the Reids had were rescued, and awareness was raised.

The Scottish SPCA’s undercover work helped bring about this conviction. It believes that there are others in our area involved in dog-fighting, and that it is still going on. There are reports that fighting might be taking place in Torry and Kincorth.

How to help

If a dog fight is about to take place or is going on:  it is very rare that the authorities get a lead like this, but it happens. Call the police emergency number – 999, or call the Scottish SPCA hotline – 0800 999 4000.

John Robins of the Animal Concern Advice Line said;

“People involved in dog fighting can be extremely dangerous. Dog fighting is a very serious crime and anyone who stumbles across a dog fight or has possible evidence of dog fighting should not try to intervene but immediately dial 999 and alert the police.”

If you know anything about dog fighting: please get in touch anonymously with the police, the Scottish SPCA, and/or Crimestoppers.  You can help save innocent animals from torture.  Dogs do not naturally wish to fight each other, and if you knew the barbaric things done to these animals to make them into fighters, you would want it ended.

Many people involved in acts of animal cruelty have gone on to harm people when the thrill from animal cruelty is no longer enough. This interest in hurting animals escalating to violence against people is not uncommon in killers and serial killers.

If you have seen any animals mistreated:  please get in touch with the authorities as above, anonymously if you wish.  The people who can help need as much information as they can get.

If you have any suspicions. Dogs that have obvious signs of injuries, either bodily or facial may be involved in dog fighting.  If you have any suspicions it is important that you bring them to the Scottish SPCA’s attention.  Either they can rule out cruelty and dog fighting, or they can start to build a pattern, and hopefully rescue animals from further cruelty.

There will be a leafleting campaign taking place shortly in the south of the city.  If you wish to get involved, get in touch.

Anyone who is not comfortable calling the Scottish SPCA, the police, or Crimestoppers can send an email , for non-urgent matters such as suspected dog fighting, to stop.dogfights@yahoo.co.ukYou can also write to that email address to go on an anonymous mailing list. No one else will get your details.

PS:  it is also Staffie Awareness  Week.  Staffordshire terriers are lovely animals, and deserve the same treatment and kindness as any other dog breed.

Contacts.

Scottish Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals
Hotline 0800 999 4000; website  http://www.scottishspca.org/

Animal Concern Advice Line (ACAL)
John F. Robins, Secretary, c/o Animal Concern,
Post Office Box 5178, Dumbarton G82 5YJ.
Tel 01389-841111.,
Mobile: 07721-605521. Fax: 0870-7060327.
Website http://adviceaboutanimals.info

Grampian Police
Emergencies:  999.  Non-emergency number:  0845 600 5700.

Crimestoppers
Tel.  0800 555 111

Email for any leads
stop.dogfights@yahoo.co.uk

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Aug 312012
 

Lush Aberdeen in conjunction with eight other Lush stores throughout Scotland is holding a ‘Willows Weekend’ in association with Willows Animal Sanctuary and Animal Assisted Therapy Unit.

willowscatfeat Willows work tirelessly to look after over 300 animals including almost 70 horses, donkeys and ponies approximately 60 cats and dogs and many reptiles as well as over 100 farm animals and birds.

They specialise in helping elderly or more vulnerable animals that have already been refused help by well-known larger national charities and are totally dependent on donations, legacies and grants from benevolent organizations to keep the sanctuary running.

Willows Animal Sanctuary is the largest sanctuary of its type in the Aberdeenshire area and it is a constant struggle for this non-profit organisation to raise the enormous funds needed to feed, house and provide veterinary care for the many animals under their protection.

Their Animal Assisted Therapy Unit has benefitted many disabled and vulnerable people in the community and this service has become a highly valued aspect of the Sanctuary.

Deborah Cowan, store manager for Lush Aberdeen had this to say:

“We’re thrilled to be able to provide this opportunity to raise much needed funds for Willows, and we’re really excited that all nine Scottish Lush stores have come on-board to support this wonderfully worthwhile charity. We will have flyers in store that have information about Willows, as well as info about a few of the adoptable animals looking for their forever homes.

“Willows have also kindly provided footage of the sanctuary and the animals which we will be playing instore. ”

All proceeds excluding VAT from sales of Charity Pot hand and body cream on Saturday and Sunday the 1st and 2nd of September will go to Willows to help support the amazing work that they do.

Lush Aberdeen will be providing in-store activities on the day and are encouraging people to bring in any old pillowcases and clean plastic shopping bags. These will become the stuffing for the pillowcase mattresses that the Team will make for the many cats and dogs and other small animals that call Willows their home. They are also encouraging people to donate any pet food that they can spare.

Deborah also stated,

“All people have to do to show their support, is come into any Lush store in Scotland this weekend and purchase a Charity Pot hand and body cream. Lush make no money from this beautiful product, and for this weekend only, all proceeds excluding VAT will go to Willows. We have 3 sizes to choose from and to say thank you for your purchase here in Aberdeen, customers can make their very own Space Girl or Blackberry Bath Bomb!”

The stores taking part are: Aberdeen, Glasgow Sauchihall St, Glasgow Buchannan St, Glasgow Braehead, Livingston, Dundee, Inverness, Stirling and Edinburgh.

Many of the above stores will also advertise the event on their shop Facebook pages so to find out about what is happening in your local area, use the Facebook search function to find your local shop.

Find out more about Willows at their website: http://www.willowsanimals.com/ The Charity has regular open days that are a perfect day out for the whole family.

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Jul 192012
 

Aberdeen Voice’s Suzanne Kelly reports back from Willows on last Saturday’s Sandi Thom concert and with an update on Willow’s inhabitants.

sandi-and-mcgill-109 The weather changed every hour last Saturday, mostly from heavy rain to light rain – but that didn’t deter crowds of animal lovers from heading to Willows Animal Sanctuary to hear Sandi Thom.

Morgan, age 11, visited her favourites including Snowy the goat, and cats Fluffball, Fred and Frankie.

Fred likes to climb on people, and so too does Fluffball (as I later found out: having bent down to tie a shoelace, I became a perch).

The cats were in their finest form, all wanting lots of attention:Arthur,  the cat who had been found in waste ground living in a paint can; Ella, the three legged cat (Paul Rodger’s wife Cynthia is particularly fond of this sweet-tempered feline); Bailey (a fluffy Bailey’s Irish Cream coloured cat) and the rest.

Two new arrival cats were in cages awaiting trips to the vet.  Their owner had been caught in the act of dumping them at Willow’s entrance recently.  Willows staff and I discussed the alarming rate in people abandoning their animals and in particular the kittens left near Mrs Murray’s Home – in a box sealed with cling film.

bailey-takes-a-bath-closeup-109 It was only a miracle they were found before they died from dehydration and suffocation.

What some people are thinking these days defies description.

We need places like Willows, New Arc and Mrs Murray’s to be sure – but we also need to make people aware that when they abandon animals, they are not only causing a great deal of suffering (emotionally physically) to a formerly-loved pet – they are breaking the law.

Thankfully there are also the kind of people who support Willows and other animal shelters, and today’s crowds were an amazing bunch of generous, animal-loving, caring people.

Sarah Norris told me she’d first come when she heard of Paul Rodger’s visit, and has been five times since.   Although she and her family live nearby, they were not aware that Willows welcomes visitors until then.

Mr Norris said:

 ”the benefits of Animal Assisted Therapy should be publicised and much better funded.”

 Many people of all ages have benefited from interacting with animals at Willows.  He continued:

“Paul Rodgers, Cynthia Rodgers and Sandi Thom have done very well to raise awareness – if not for them, we might not have visited.”

happy-cat-109 I knew Sandi Thom would be doing an acoustic set in a barn; I had not expected it to be literally packed to the rafters.

People were seated and standing, and a group of peacocks were on the barn’s beams.

The animals seemed to be listening in –  a black cat was seated quietly in one of the paying seats, watching and listening to Sandi intently.  Being there in this atmosphere was quite an experience.

Sandi later told me that she hadn’t done anything acoustic of this nature before, which surprised me as it had come off perfectly.  There were familiar hits of hers, covers, and material from a forthcoming album.

“I enjoyed myself; it was my first acoustic public performance, and it was a nice break for me.  Playing up close and personal like that reminded me of the meanings of the songs.” 

She brought up the new patrons,

“I was glad I could invite Paul and Cynthia to be patrons; their kinship with animals is amazing and genuine.”

Sandi was soon off to tour all the other resident animals, and spent a good deal of time with the 18 hand gelding McGill which she’s adopted.   We were guided by Willows staff as well as several cats which followed us for more petting; they were greatly enjoying the attention.

Many of the cats here are unsuitable for family adoption for a variety of reasons; Willows was their last chance.  In fact many of the animals here were abandoned or confiscated, and  they would have been put to sleep by local authorities if not for finding a home here.

end-of-a-long-happy-day-109 This is true of the newest arrival – a beautiful, tiny Shetland pony foal.  Its mare and two other Shetlands were abandoned and were due to be put down but Willows said they would take them.  So the pregnant mare has a new-born foal and a new life.

Clearly all of this takes a great deal of money – there are over 300 animals (‘all creatures great and small’ as Paul Rodgers put it on his last visit).  There is no government funding for any of our regional shelters – and they rely on our support.

Willows has several raffles on the go, animal adoption schemes, and a programme of upcoming events (details http://www.willowsanimals.com/ and on facebook via the ‘Help Save Willows Animal Sanctuary’ page.

I finally braved the reptile house – and was pleasantly surprised by a selection of beautiful reptiles and amphibians.  Many people had bought such pets thinking they would be easy to care for – most are not, and so they wind up at places like Willows (if they are lucky).  The Giubarelli family were enjoying these creatures and their visit.

Before it’s time to leave there is just time for another tour around the animals, then it’s time to say goodbye to Kate, Jenny and all the volunteers.  It’s been a brilliant day despite the weather, and everyone heads home happily, as the cats settle down for a rest, and the staff finally get a rest as well.  Until next time.

Jul 062012
 

Willows Animal Sanctuary is pleased to announce that Sandi Thom will perform an unplugged show at the sanctuary’s open day on 15 July. There will be a raffle, tombola and refreshments. Signed photos of Sandi will be available to supporters making a £15 donation.  

willowssandithom Willows is also delighted to announce the birth of Free Spirit, the first foal to be born at the charity in twelve years.
Free Spirit was born to Carly, a rescued native Shetland mare who was part of a welfare case on the islands. She was one of three animals found abandoned, starving, covered in lice and other parasites.

Once they were seized by the authorities, Willows was asked to help to save the ponies. Free Spirit is our symbol of hope for the future. We have named him after Free, Paul Rodgers’ band.

We want to thank everyone who has helped Willows in its recent difficult time. The support has been wonderful. We are not out of the woods but we have various funding potentials on the horizon. Our patrons Paul Rodgers and his wife Cynthia are supporting a raffle to help raise money with twelve unique prizes including a guitar and tambourine signed by Paul.

Our other patron Sandi Thom’s fundraising gig at Willows on 15 July will be an opportunity to meet her and get her autograph. Tickets are available from Willows.

We are looking forward to a more positive future with the help of the fantastic public. On behalf of everyone at Willows, thank you!

Willows is open as a Visit Scotland attraction each Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday from 11.30am-5pm with last admission at 4.15pm.

Sandi Thom
Live and unplugged at Willows Animal Sanctuary
Sunday 15 July
Doors open 1pm
Tickets £12 in advance, £15 on the door and £18 seated.

Available from Willows Animal Sanctuary
01771 653112
email kate@willowsanimals.com

 

May 172012
 

willowshorse2 With thanks to Suzanne Kelly.

Kate at Willows Animal Sanctuary has updated Aberdeen Voice with the latest news, including an open day and some dramatic equine rescues.

An open day will be held on 26th May at Willows Animal Sanctuary from 11:30 to 5pm.

You are invited to come and meet the staff and residents of Willows and enjoy:

  •    LIVING HISTORY!
  •    COFFEE SHOP!
  •    LOTS OF TOMBOLAS!
  •    BOTTLE STALLS!
  •    TREASURE HUNT!
  •    PLANTS FOR SALE!
  •    LIVE MUSIC!
  •    HOME BAKE STALL!
  •    BODY SHOP STALL!
  •    BEASTIE HOOSE!
  •    GIFT SHOP!
  •    LUCKY DUCKS!

Come along and meet all your favourite furry friends!

While animals all over the UK are experiencing problems, here are some tales of equine work that Willows has been doing locally:

Early in 2012 Willows received a call about the plight of three miniature Shetland Ponies that had been abandoned on one of the Shetland Islands.  Their owner had neglected the ponies and then simply moved away, with the result that they had been seized by Shetland Island Council and were subject to legal proceedings.

We learned that one of the ponies was a young stallion named Faramir, who had at an earlier date been rescued from being sold for slaughter.  We were told that he was very badly behaved around other ponies and arrangements were about to be made to have him put down. Another of the ponies was named Carly and she was expecting a foal which had been sired by Faramir.

The third pony, called Defiant, was also facing an uncertain future.  We agreed to save all three ponies and they undertook a fourteen hour boat trip from Shetland to Aberdeen where they were picked up and transported to Willows. They were checked by our vet and were so riddled with worms that the worms were visible on the poor ponies’ bottoms!

Here is a short film of their arrival at Willows.

They all settled in well, and Defiant already has a new home, while Faramir has been beautifully behaved and Carly is quietly awaiting her happy event!

Tor came to Willows because he suffers very badly from sweet itch, which is an allergic response to midge bites. His owners were desperate to find him a home where there were not too many midges.  He is a lovely gentle horse, but when he arrived and was inspected by our vet it was agreed that he was the most overweight horse that any of us had ever seen.

He was immediately placed on a restricted diet as he was in imminent danger of developing laminitis, a disease which affects horses’ feet, and is linked to over-feeding.  When he has been reduced to a more svelte outline Tor will be available for rehoming!

 Humphrey’s neglected feet were beginning to turn up and he was riddled with both worms and lice.

Humphrey the donkey came to Willows with a Shetland pony companion called Dennis because they were no longer wanted.   He had been bought – with much enthusiasm but little knowledge – as a children’s pet, and had ended up just being left out in a muddy field all winter.

No proper attention had been paid to him – his neglected feet were beginning to turn up and he was riddled with both worms and lice. Humphrey and his shetland pony friend Dennis will become permanent residents here at Willows and will be able to enjoy the happy life that they deserve.

Prince was the much loved pet of a lady who, due to a change in her circumstances, found herself unable to keep him.  Prince travelled down from Shetland with the three rescued miniature Shetland ponies and has settled in well.

willowsginger Clyde was the deeply loved pet of a young woman who had, sadly, been diagnosed with cancer.  Her distraught mother was desperate to find a safe home for this much loved pony and rang Willows in desperation – she had rung a large horse charity and asked for their help, only to be told that she should have Clyde put down!  She told Willows of her plight, whilst sobbing her heart out and begged us to take him as we were her last hope!

We agreed of course, and are happy to report that Clyde has settled in well and is enjoying his time at Willows.

As a registered charity, Willows relies on your donations to continue its ever-increasing work supporting rescued wild, domestic and farm animals, and all contributions will be welcomed.

See how you can donate by visiting our website at www.willowsanimals.com

Willows Animal Sanctuary is situated on the B9093 between New Pitsligo and Strichen.

Mar 012012
 

Aberdeen Voice photographer Rob and I attended Willow’s Animal Sanctuary Open Day on 25 February and had an absolutely wonderful time. Were it not for the snow which started when we were there, Rob would have had a hard time getting me to leave. Suzanne Kelly reviews a splendid day out.

willowscat It was a nice drive to Willows from Aberdeen; the countryside is beautiful.

Willows was well signposted, and a helper was on the main road to ensure people found their way.

It is a spacious and friendly haven for animals and people. Getting to know some of each was a pleasure.

I met Sue during the event, and she told me that when she and her husband moved to Scotland six years ago, they soon discovered Willows, had visited and supported them during that time and wanted to do more.

willowsgoat It was then that Kate found that there were like-minded people who really wanted to help, so they were introduced. Now they have a fundraising team who have thrown themselves into their task with a will.
Although they have only been together for about fifteen months, they have already raised over £9,000 through, to name but a few events, stalls at open days, coffee mornings and bingo evenings. The team now numbers eight, Sandy, Sue, Ann, David, Ashleigh, Leigh, Lorna and George.

There are many people who help with donations of prizes etc, and who help support the team in various ways. They have lots of new ideas for future events, so have confidence that the visitors will really enjoy themselves whilst supporting Willows

“Willows not only helps animals, but we’re definitely helping people as well,” Sue tells me, “We’ve seen people blossom.” 

willowshorse1 The office has a noticeboard divided into several sections. There are general news stories and items about animal sentience.

Yes, they do think, and feel, and know both pain and fear as well as love and happiness.

One section was about the fantastic work Willows does in bringing people with special abilities together with the animals. Both sides benefit from this interaction.

We now know that people with conditions such as autism improve hugely through interaction with animals. Horses and ponies can provide unique, valuable therapeutic benefits.

Sue and I talk a bit more, and she tells me of a fairly new arrival, McGill, a gigantic horse at 18.2 hands.

“His owners had rented him out, and then of course, you never know whether there were any problems, and consequently, when he came to Willows he was very nervous. And he had some behavioural issues”, was how Sue described McGill.

willowshorse2 Having worked with horses in my distant past, I was ready for a highly-strung encounter with a giant. Well, McGill was indeed a giant, but he had an unbelievably sweet temperament.

Rob and I stayed and stroked him for quite some time; many others did too. If this horse had had any emotional issues, they were a thing of the past. Sandi Thom has since adopted him. She originally had adopted another animal, but it had sadly passed away.

Well, we and families patted goats, sheep, pigs, llamas, ponies, horses and the most amazingly friendly selection of cats you could ever find.

willowsginger The majority of them sat on a large hay bale, which the sun was hitting. They were all soaking up the sun and loved being patted.

I particularly fell for a little feline called Gingersnap, and another gentleman called Arthur.

Arthur had been living in a tin can in a bit of scrub ground when they found him.
Sadly, he lost both his ears to skin cancer, not uncommon in white cats. I was completely won over.

We finally had a chance to talk to Sandi Thom. Her family are from the general area, and they seem to have a love of horses going back generations. Sandi seemed genuinely glad to be there, and signed several autographs as we spoke.

willowssandithom She’d also donated a very gorgeous autographed acoustic guitar as a raffle prize. We mentioned the generosity of Paul Rodgers and his wife, who adopted some thirteen animals.

Paul has donated several signed copies of his new DVD for Willows to sell (yes, I’d bought one). Ms Thom commented that people she’d met in the music industry often seemed to have a soft spot for animals. She clearly did.

Before we left, we spoke to Mr and Mrs Reid, who seemed to enjoy visiting the horses and have been coming for quite some time.

willowsgeese If the snows hadn’t started and if we didn’t have a fairly long drive back to Aberdeen, I might have stayed until they threw me out.
If I didn’t already have two rescue cats which are just a touch on the needy side, I just might have adopted another.

Please visit the Willows website to learn more. Willows helps wild, domestic and farm animals – and people of all ages.

If you can help, please get in touch. http://www.willowsanimals.com/

willowspeacock willowssheep

Dec 152011
 

Aberdeen Voice presents An Aberdeen Christmas Carol – A work of fiction, with apologies to Charles Dickens, by Suzanne Kelly and Fred Wilkinson.

The Characters

(any resemblance to anyone living, dead, or somewhere between the two is purely coincidental and not at all a deliberate attempt at parody.  This is a work of fiction and of Saltire satire )

Ianeezer Scrooge                          Old, wealthy miser, lacking in compassion but loaded with greed
Gruff and MeKeachruns                Servants to Scrooge, supplying his needs
Jenny Crawl                                   Companion to Scrooge, with whom he feeds
Jacob Milney                                  A Spirit – Once partner of Scrooge, now doomed for his deeds
Bruce the Robert                           A Spirit of Christmas Past, with Scrooge he pleads
ASIF                                               A Spirit of Christmas present, transparent indeed
Hoodie                                           A Spirit of Christmas future – but will Scrooge heed?
Spencer for Hire                             A waiter
Steve Peters Lord Provost             A dignitary
Kevin                                              An errand boy
Mr Mickie                                        Scrooge’s employee, head of a large family
Tiny Tim Mickie                              Youngest of the Mickie household
Katie Dee & Kevin Dum                 Washerwomen

  *                                              *                                              *

ianeezer

The careful shopper kept one eye on his purse and the other looking upwards, for the gigantic Christmas lights hung over all, like the giant orbs from ‘The Prisoner’, and were prone to falling, crushing the occasional small child or pensioner.

The pubs were filled with young ladies and gentlemen drinking eggnogs and Babycham.

The first snow would soon fall, and Christmas cheer was everywhere.  Well, almost everywhere.

A car drove towards an office block; not just any car, but the town’s very own Civic Car.  This chauffeur-driven car was the envy of all, and in it sat the Lord Provost Steve Peters himself, and the town’s wealthiest man, Ianeezer Scrooge.

“Listen Peters, I’m a patient man, but if construction doesn’t start soon on my Scrooge family car park and shopping mall, someone’s going to find less cash in their Christmas stocking this year – get the picture?”

The speaker was Scrooge, and although his voice was calm, he was turning a reddish colour.  Peters shook his head and rubbed his hands.

“Everything possible is being done – we have our best people ah, ‘volunteering’ to work on the project night and day.  Soon the Denburn Park will be officially yours.”  Peters answered Scrooge with a slightly nervous voice, for there had been far more opposition to this plan than was expected.  The public it seems did not want a little patch of ground turned into a car park.

This piece of ground had been given centuries ago to the people by the famed  hero king of old, Bruce the Robert.  A statue of him astride a trusty steed stood outside the newly-cleaned (and gutted) Marshall Academy building which now housed the city’s staff.  The Denburn Parkland was the property of the people, gifted to they by King Robert, but if Scrooge wanted the park, well, then he must have it.

Teams of lawyers toiled day and night to find some clever way to make it all work. The brilliant, peerless lawyer MeKeechruns could not have been more helpful.  Loopholes were exploited, companies set up, and there very best man, Berry Gruff was one of the lead figures making it all fall into place. ‘ If only the people would stop protesting!’ the Lord Provost thought.  ‘The wife’s on at me for some more designer jeans, and her clothes are costing a fortune.  Guess it’s all on expenses anyway, but still.’

“I want progress soon, understand!  You do want to stay Lord Provost, I’m sure, and all those other councillors know what side their bread is buttered on.  Get me a progress report tonight.”  Scrooge said matter-of-factly, as the chauffeur opened the door and Ianeezer Scrooge alit at the Scrooge Building.  He entered the doors, thrust his hat and coat at his assistant Mr Mickie, and strode off to his office, Mickie trotting at his heels.

“Have you written those letters yet?” Scrooge asked “They need to be out to James Brown at the funding office forthwith – but do send them second class – first class stamps are going up again.  And who turned the heat up in here?  I’m paying for this you know.”

Scrooge’s pet project depended to some extent on a funding application.  A Mr James Brown was in charge of the funds.  Most of Scrooge’s employees and lackeys had been set the task of writing to Brown, saying what a great project it would be and that funding must be granted.

“Oh, I’m sorry” said Mickie, “I’ll turn the heat off straight away.  Yes, I’ve written to ask for the funding for the Denburn project in my own name, in the names of all my wee children, including Tiny Tim, and as myself for all the companies you’ve put me in charge of – in name only of course” he added, seeing  Ianeezer had raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m out to lunch” said Ianeezer – and Mickie thought that was true enough.  “Have you made reservations for me ?  I’m taking Jenny Crawl out to the Clifmar for a nice long lunch.”

“Oh yes sir, everything is in place; do have a nice –“ but before Mickie could finish Scrooge was off again.

Mickie knew he had to work hard and do as Scrooge told him.  He had all his children to think of, including poor little Tiny Tim who needed a crutch.  Not only did Mickie work for Scrooge, he had to hold down several other jobs and even work at the local pharmacy to make ends meet.  If only things went Scrooge’s way, then no doubt Scrooge would pass some money onto Mickie as well – at least Mickie hoped so.  For Scrooge had pledged to leave the project millions of pounds, and hinted that those nearest to him would likewise be remembered in his will.

Across town Scrooge was peering at the lovely Jenny Crawl over the wine list.

“Is there anything else I can do for you sir, anything at all?  Just let me know, I’m your man.”  The little waiter, Spencer for Hire addressed Scrooge with great respect.  He too hoped to be a beneficiary of the as-yet unseen largess of Mr Scrooge.

“That will be all thank you Spence.” Jenny replied.  She was a tall stately woman with long blond hair.  She had worked her way up through the ranks and was now in the inner circle of Scrooge’s trusted business associates.  She worked long and hard helping Scrooge fulfil his dreams of seizing Denburn Park; it was after all the most desirable piece of real estate in town.  Of course they told the public that everything that Scrooge did was for their own good.  The truth was something else altogether.   If they could only turn this unprofitable bit of land with its trees, grassy banks, birds and flowers into a parking lot, they would become even richer.

They passed a pleasant few hours over caviar, champagne and fine foods.  Suddenly Scrooge felt unwell.  His head began to swim and his stomach ached.

“Jenny my dear” he sighed.  “Not feeling all that well, perhaps I had too much stilton and port.  Going home for a lie-down.  See you later I trust?  Just sign the bill for the project, it was a working lunch after all.”

“Dear Dear Ian” she said; she called him by his shortened name “you must go home and lie down at once!  We mustn’t let anything happen to you!”  She genuinely looked alarmed.  How she must care for him, Scrooge thought.

Before he knew it, Jenny and Spencer for Hire had bundled him back into his limo -  he thought they mumbled something about a will –  and he was being driven home through town.  It was twilight.  The moon shown over the Denburn Park as the limo drove past.  A shadow crossed the moon and for a moment, Scrooge thought he heard a moan.  The car then stopped at traffic lights at the Academy building, just by the Statue of Bruce the Robert.

The moonlight danced on the statue and as Scrooge froze – the horse lifted his hoof and the great Robert leaned forward and pointed at Ianeezer.  Scrooge closed his eyes and rubbed them – and when he opened them, there was the statue as motionless as it always had been.  ‘I must not eat any more of those funny chocolate brownies Katie my cleaning woman makes.  Trick of the eyes.’ He thought to himself.

As he arrived at the Scrooge mansion, his servants Katie D and Kevin Dum were at hand to help him into the house.  He ordered his faithful lackeys to bring him his dinner in his room; he would watch television in his bed and get an early night’s sleep.

Some funny programme was on, some old film called ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.  Scrooge stopped to watch for a few moments.  In the scene that was playing, a young man called George Bailey was talking to a wealthy man called Mr Potter.

“Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you’re talking about… they do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well, is it too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father didn’t think so. People were human beings to him. But to you, a warped, frustrated old man, they’re cattle. Well in my book, my father died a much richer man than you’ll ever be!”

Ianeezer Scooge couldn’t quite fathom what was wrong with the young man, and thought that the Mr Potter character seemed like an admirable fellow.

Just then a gust of wind caused a tree branch to tap on the window at the opposite wall.  The noise caught Scrooge’s attention and he turned.  For a split second he thought he saw the statue of Bruce the Robert again.  A feeling of dread crept over him, but then the moment was gone.  Scrooge gradually drifted off to sleep.  He though of Christmas and how much it would cost him in holiday wages.  ‘Christmas!  Bah Humbug!’

Scrooge had a troubled, strange sleep.  Waking with a start he noticed the room glowed red in the dark.  ‘what the hell is that irritating red light and how is anyone supposed to get any sleep with it on’ he thought when suddenly he realised he was not alone.  He clutched the bedclothes and sat upright, heart pounding.

There to his horror was a hideous figure – bald and short in stature with an undefined, characterless face.  It wore a red football jersey marked ‘AFC’.

“Ianeezer Scrooge!  It is I, your former business partner  Jacob Milney come to warn you!  Mend your ways, or you too will be damned for all eternity as I am!”

“Milney – is that you?”  Scrooge could not believe it – there stood the ghastly apparition which looked exactly like his former business partner Jacob Milney.  Poor Milney had blotted his copy book.  First there were some funny dealings with the city and a queer land deal. Then Milney alienated the people by buying their city champion curling team, and running it into the ground.  People whispered that Milney did not really care for curling at all, and simply wanted to grab as much land as possible.  True enough – and Scrooge in the old days felt a paternal fondness for Jacob Milney.  But as the tables turned on Milney and he lost credibility and got into trouble, Scrooge quite rightly cut him off.

“Er, look here Milney, I’m hallucinating right?  You are just an undigested bit of cheese aren’t you?” Scrooge demanded.

“I’ve been called far worse,” said Milney looking at the floor and shaking his head sadly “Ian, I have been sent here tonight to warn you – you must give up your greedy ways.  Three spirits will visit you this night to show you your past present and your terrible future if you don’t get off the path you are on.”

“What’s that thing you’re wearing?” demanded Ianeezer “and what makes you think I’m doing anything wrong?

At this Milney let out a ghostly long wail.  “For my greed, dishonesty, destruction of green spaces and miserly treatment of the curling club, I am forced to glow red in the dark like the stadium I built in the nature reserve.  I must wear this long chain.  It is made from all the trophies and silver that the curling team could have won had I not treated it as a real estate vehicle.  And believe me, this is a pretty long chain.”

Jacob shook it for effect.

“Learn from my greed and turn back.  Pay your UK taxes.  Stop getting rid of green space – and above all:  YOU MUST NOT BUILD THE MONOLITH.  My time here is ending.  I return to my punishment – I am forced to read the fan website and all the newspaper articles denouncing my stewartship of the curling club.  Ianeezer….,,”

Milney seemed to shrink to an even smaller shape than he had been in life, and with a final moan (which Ianeezer was used to from their long years of association) he was gone.

“Phew!” Thought Scrooge “If that was poor old Milney, he’s really lost his business sense.  But it was only a dream.  No more Brewdog ‘Tactical Nuclear Penguin’ for me before bedtime.

He rolled over and soon was sleeping again, but not very soundly at all.

*                                              *                                              *

Somewhere far off a horse whinnied and steel crashed against steel.  Scrooge sat up, and there was the great heroic figure of Bruce the Robert.

“Get up ye wee futtret!”  Robert demanded.

“Now look here” Scrooge cried ” Don’t speak to me like that, dead hero or not!  I’m Ianeezer Scrooge – or Mr Scrooge to you.”

“AAARRGH!” Cried Bruce the Robert, swinging his huge sword close to Scrooge who seemed to regret his earlier rudeness.  “Ah’ve focht bloody battles tae win the lands Ah hae noo – but fit aoot yersel? A’ you’ve ivver daen is stan idle watchin rival firms struggle, an’ like a hoodie cra’ pick their banes fan they’re ower puggled tae fecht back.

“Ah dinna ken why Ah should gee ma bahookie ower sic a grippy flechbite as yersel, but somebody hid tae come ower an gie ye a bollockin, an’ as ayewis, it wis left tae Muggins.

“Hemen, ye’ve mair money than ye ken fit tae dae wi, an’ still aye yer needin mair. Ah’m tellin ye noo tae cut it oot!

“Ah ken fit it’s like tae a fair puckly siller. Ae time Ah could hae went onywye an daen onythin Ah likit. Twis naebody’s business fit Ah did wi siller Ah workit for. But Ah gaed awa! ‘At’s richt, glaikit as it micht soun’, Ah gaed awa ma siller tae ornry workin fowks…. an as lang as Ah’m still kent as the Big Bob, fit Ah gied tae the fowks will bide wi the fowks. D’ye underconstumble?

“So if you as much as pint yer finger at ae tree in the fowk’s perk at Denburn, Ah’ll come doon on ye like a ton o’ bricks.

“Noo Ah’ve heard ye bumpin yer gums aboot gaein yer siller awa tae fowk, but dinna kid yersel, the Aiberdeen fowk are nae blin’, an’ they’re nae as feel as ye think. So fit is’t yer buildin onywye? Ah’ve haen a lookie an’ Ah’ve nae seen siccan a sair sotter in a’ ma puff. Fit’s wi’ the muckle gless worm thingmy? Are ye wise??”

“Clearly”  Scrooge replied, “You just don’t understand this wonderful gift I’m giving the people.

“There will be underground parking, shopping, ramps to walk on, a monolith, and a great big covered space to sit in.    It is the way to ensure our economic future, and people will come from afar to see this wonderful site.  And spend money.  There will be jobs creation, vibrancy, dynamism.  It is a focal point for the civic heart of the city which – “

“Haud yer wheesht min!” interrupted the ancient hero’s ghost forcefully  “Div Ah look like a gluepot? Div ye think fowk are feel enough tae believe the tripe comin oot yer mou? Div ye believe it yersel min? If ye dae, then yer mair o’ a neep than Ah taen ye for. Ah’m tellin ye yince mair min jist in case the penny hisna drapped. That perk is tae bide the wye it is … so snoot oot -  or ye’ll ken a’ aboot it.

“Richt, Ah’m awa noo, but mind fit Ah telt ye.”

“Is your time on this earth up?” asked Scrooge “You see, if you could just understand why we need to build these ramps and monoliths, then –“

“Nah, ma time’s ma ain” the Robert growled, prodding his finger into his chest “But the verra sicht o’ yer soor coupon is daein ma napper in, so Ah’m aff. But Ah’ll be clockin ye. So get a grip ye grippy git. Yer needin tae heed the wise or wise the heid. Itherwise min, it’s tatties!”

And the ghostly horse reared; the Robert charged the window, and was gone into the night.

“Hm… I guess I believe in ghosts!” Thought  Ianeezer – “Hmph!  It’s easier to believe in spirits than in any of this public relations ‘vibrant and dynamic’ nonsense – whatever that means.   I just want that land, some parking, some shops and of course a statue to ME, which the grateful populace will insist is built.  But the spirit was right – perhaps I need to do some more thinking about this project.”

Scrooge shook his head up and down with satisfaction before plumping his pillow, and laying down again.

*                                              *                                              *

“You sit around here and you spin your little webs and you think the whole world revolves around you and your money. Well, it doesn’t, Mr. Potter. In the whole vast configuration of things, I’d say you were nothing but a scurvy little spider!”

The television was still on – these words woke Scrooge up, and he rubbed his eyes.  The room was filled with a fuzzy glow.  There was some kind of shape in the room, cloudlike with little form.  It however spoke in a girl’s voice.

“Hi there!  I’m ASIF, the ghost of Christmas present!  But you can call me Jan.” the thing said.

“What are you?  I can’t figure out what you’re supposed to be?” Scrooge asked, turning his head to one side.  The thing existed, yet he could see straight through it but could not tell what it was.  It kept changing.  Truly this ghost was vibrant and dynamic.  At one point he thought he saw a big translucent worm.  Another moment and it seemed to be either a big spiderweb or a great big square block.

“You should understand” the voice said “for you are creating me.  I am ASIF, your project.  I’m not exactly defined yet – no one – not even you  – knows what I will look like.  You only know that you want me built, and you hope to have a statue of yourself – like the statue of Bruce the Robert.  I am here to show you the truth of Christmas Present.  You will see what your actions have created in this city for people this very Christmas night.  Now come with me.  Take hold of my robe and you will be uplifted in more than this.  Whatever that means.”

“Now hold on Jan” said a sceptical Scrooge.  “I had Milney in her not long ago pretending to be some kind of spirit – just the kind of silly caper that gets him into trouble every time.  Why should I think you are ASIF, some kind of a ghost?”

“Well, I’m fully transparent aren’t I?” ASIF answered.

“Very well spirit, show me what Christmas looks like this year.”

They flew out the window.  And this is what they saw.

They saw a homeless man shiver in the cold, mourning for his friend who had frozen to death earlier in the week.  They saw bulldozers tearing into the remaining countryside; they saw other green fields nearby.  They saw some people suffering, and others feasting.  They saw pensioners and people with special needs trying to make do.  They saw crumbling NHS hospitals and closed down schools.  They saw poor ailing Tiny Tim Mickie sitting in a corner of his room, writing letters at his dad’s bidding to James Brown, begging for the Scrooge project to go ahead.  They saw the happy, the sad, the rich and the poor.  Then they saw the richest man in town’s mansion, and it was Scrooge’s.

“All those people with all their hopes and dreams.  All of the land being built on, leaving animals without shelter, space or feeding ground. All the suffering.  And yet Mr Scooge, here we are back at your billionaire pad with its comforts and servants.  Does this teach you anything at all?”  The spirit asked.

“Yes, indeed it does.  Thank you ASIF.  I have learned much.”  Scrooge answered thoughfully.  “But what are those two child-like figures clinging to you, hidden under your robes?”

“Fear them Scrooge” answered ASIF “the little boy is Ignorance; he is what happens if schools are closed.  The little girl is called Want, and what you waste in a day could save her.”

“Would I get any tax break if I make a donation?” Scrooge asked.  The spirit pretended it hadn’t heard this question.

“I shall leave you now, and another spirit will soon appear to show you the future.”ASIF said.  With that, the ghostly shimmery giant worm thing was gone.

“I shall make use of what she showed me.  I shall change” Ianeezer thought. “And now I await my last spectral visitation.”  He sat on his bed, and noticed the movie was still playing.  It felt as if this night was never going to end, yet if the movie was still on, only moments had passed.

*                                              *                                              *

A wild wind was blowing; Scrooge’s windows were thrown wide open by an invisible force.    Before the spectre, who was wearing a hoodie that covered its face entirely could speak, Ianeezer began.

“Look, I know who you are and why you’re here – let’s see the future, for I’ve been given much food for thought tonight.  Time’s money, let’s get a move on.”  The spectre grabbed Scrooge’s arm and they flew forward in time.

They  were still in Scrooge’s house, but according to the calendar some 20 years had passed.  Two old haggard ladies were arguing, and the draperies were closed around Scrooge’s bed.  They were his faithful servants, Katie D and Kevin Dum.

“I’ll have that for all the years of suffering I’ve endured.” Said one of the washer women.  She was grabbing a casket of silverware.

“Fine – take that, I’ll get the old fool’s fillings from his teeth!” said the other scrubber.  More voices were heard, and the two washer women scarpered.  Soon a party of lawyers, councillors, and the lovely Jenny Crawl dressed head to toe in black entered.  They all sobbed.

“See spirit!  See how they miss me!” said Scrooge, who realised it was his deathbed they were seeing.  He felt most proud at this outpouring of grief.

“Bollocks!” said Jenny.  “After all those  years of crawling, the old bastard not only didn’t leave money to the Denburn project, he’s  not left me more than an old photo of himself!  The nerve!”

“Years I printed what I was told, and more to the point I didn’t print what he didn’t want out.  And it’s all been for nothing.”  A man with a folded up newspaper under his arm simmered angrily.

“My project, my beautiful project!” said Gruff “who’s going to pay for it now!?  Hundreds of millions of pounds are needed, or the city will go broke.”

“I thought I had all the angles covered,” wept MeKeechruns “I’m usually so very, very brilliant!”

The miserable party railed at the dead man.  “Show me no more of this!” cried Scrooge.  He blinked and found himself at the home of his servant, Mickie.  Tiny Tim’s crutch lay along against the fire place.

“Where’s Mickie’s son Tiny Tim?” asked Scrooge

Before the spectre of Chrismas Future could answer, the Mickies entered the room.

“My poor wee Tim!” cried Mrs Mickie “Who would have thought he could die from writer’s cramp?  It was bad enough he  had to bombard James Brown with letters demanding that the funding for Scrooge’s project be granted.” She sobbed, “But it was just too much for wee Tim to have to also forge all those referendum ballots too.  Ah, my poor boy!”.

Scrooge and the spirit were suddenly in the fresh air, in the middle of what seemed like a party.  It was the Denburn Park, but not as Scrooge remembered it.  A giant steel skeleton with smashed glass panes lay to his left.  A giant huge monolith with no windows stood nearby.  A schoolboy threw empty bottles of Buckfast off of a giant concrete ramp covered in graffiti.

On a stage under the ramp, Status Quo played to an audience of OAPs. Groans intermixed with the sound of car engines emanated from the oversized Monolith.  It bore a sign that read “The Ianeezer Scrooge memorial Monolith – parking, shopping and children’s Workhouse.” But all were rejoicing as overhead a grafittied monorail limped to a halt.

“He’s dead!  He’s DEAD!” they all cried, raising glasses of latte or vodka overhead.  Scrooge did not want to know who’s death the rabble were cheering – he had his suspicions.

“Spirit, show me no more.  I have learnt my lessons well.  Thank you.  I promise I will make changes!”  And with these words from Scrooge, a bolt of lightning blinded him for a moment.  Then, he was in his own room again.  The calendar showed he had returned to the present time.

Scrooge was much changed by what he had seen.

*                                              *                                              *

“Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends”

Incredibly, the movie ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ was only just now ending, although Scrooge felt his ordeal had lasted several nights not hours.  Scrooge sat straight up in bed, and the sunlight streamed through the window.  He laughed out loud.  Throwing on his robe he raced to the window, still laughing, and threw open the sash.  A boy was visible nearby.

“You there boy, what day is this?” Scrooge demanded.

“Why sir, it’s Christmas day!” the puzzled lad answered.

“Then a merry Christmas to you!  See this twenty-pound note?” Ianeezer asked, waiving a bill in the air

“Yes Sir!” answered the boy

“Go and fetch me the biggest turkey in the whole town!” Scrooge commanded

“Dean, Fletcher or Malone?” asked the lad

“Ho ho – smart lad!  Fetch me them all! – and Gruff and MeKeechruns as well!” Scrooge answered, and disappeared from the window.  “Much to do today!  Much to change!” he thought to himself.

In a little under an hour later, a somewhat disgruntled motley crew of councillors, officials and others connected to the Denburn Park project found themselves in Scrooge’s drawing room.

“I’ll bet you wondered why I called you hear today” he asked.  A chorus of “we are happy to be here, and ‘merry Christmas sir” greeted him.

“I’ve been thinking about the project, and have a new suggestion or two – believe me, these changes are very forward looking.” Ianeezer  announced.  The assembled great and good replied ‘fantastic!’ ‘can’t wait!’ and so on.

“We’re going to electrify the worm, and throw anyone in prison who touches it.  Now the monolith idea – what if as well as underground parking we put in a workhouse? We’ll save money putting the kids in workhouses and closing more schools.  Do you think that will be possible – I mean think of the labour saving and government grant possibilities!”

There was a moment’s silence “Well, are you with me – remember the money I’m leaving in my will!” Scrooge said with a hint of threat.

“Astounding!” “Visionary” “Vibrant!!” “Dynamic!”  “Inclusion!”   the buzzwords he so loved rang out across the room.

“Merry Christmas  – now back to your homes.  Jenny – stay for a drink won’t you?”  A shadow seemed to cross her face for an instant, but it was gone.

Ianeezer Scrooge was a happy man indeed, and remained grateful to the spirits to the end of his days.

“Please sir – the twenty pound note?” asked a wee boy in the back of the great drawing room.   “Yes, here it is” Scrooge said waving it, “And if you do me another favour sometime, I’ll show it to you again.”

Amid the approving nervous titters of the council bigwigs, the boy was shown the door.

Somewhere far away, an icicle formed under the eye of a bronze statue of a former king of Scotland.

THE END.