shimmer

This story makes me really happy. It does my heart good to know that someone has the balls to tell W. he can't just have anything he wants!

The Sun Online - News: Mick beats George to suite
By THOMAS WHITAKER
Showbiz Reporter


PRESIDENT George Bush can’t get no satisfaction — after Mick Jagger grabbed his hotel room.

The Rolling Stone splashed out £3,600 a night for the suite days before the US leader tried to book it.

Now Mick, 62, who has been a fierce critic of the Bush-led war in Iraq, is refusing to give it up.

The veteran rocker hired the luxury Royal Suite at the five-star Imperial Hotel in Vienna, Austria, for June when the Stones are due to play a gig in the city.



Bush’s aides then tried to book it to tie in with a summit meeting.

But Mick put his foot down and insisted he was keeping the booking.

A source close to the millionaire singer said last night: “White House officials had wanted to reserve the suite and all the other rooms on the first floor.

“But Mick and the Stones had already booked every one of them.”

“Bush’s people seemed to be under the impression that they would just hand over the suites but there was no way Mick was going to do that.”



The classically-designed suite is said to be among the top 100 hotel rooms in the world. It boasts a 7ft 4in bed, chandeliers and oil paintings.

Former presidents Ronald Reagan, John Kennedy and George Bush Snr all stayed there while they were in office.

The hotel last night admitted US secret service agents vetted the accommodation — and confirmed that Bush would no longer be staying there.

An American Embassy official refused to say where he was now staying for “security reasons”.

Mick takes a swipe at Bush, 59, on the latest Stones album A Bigger Bang, savaging his Iraq War policy.

Posted by Jean at 3:32 PM | Permalink | Comments

Someone commented here the other day that a death--as sad as it is--is also a chance to bring a new life into the home. That's true.

I started feeling ready for a new kitty perhaps a month after Chester died, but Hubby wasn't ready, and Jolson was clearly showing us that he didn't have much time remaining to him. I could hardly impose a new cat on Jolson or on Hubby.

So I waited. I mourned Chester, then I mourned Jolson. January was hard... we had no cats at all now, and I love the feeling of cat energy in my home. I love our dogs, don't get me wrong. But I love cats, too. It was depressing with no cats.

Finally, I told Hubby that I was ready and had my mind made up. He's seldom ready for anything new before I am. Change is hard for him. So sometimes, I just have to put my foot down. Before he could say "boo," I was out the door and on my way to the Humane Society, spurred on by this photo from the Humane Society website:

This is Louis. He was six months old when I adopted him in February. I'm an advocate of adopting from the Humane Society, and I believe in adopting adult cats. You can tell what they are like, unlike with small kittens, and they are less likely to be adopted. My cat Chester was three when I adopted him from the Humane Society, and he was one of the most wonderful cats I've ever known.

That said, this time, I wanted a kitten. Of course, February is really not kitten season, and I was a little nervous that I wouldn't really be as able to tell the personality in a kitten. But I haven't had a kitten since probably the early '90s, and it seemed like about time. I also wanted to make sure the new cat would adjust OK to the dogs, and a kitten seemed like a good bet for that.

So, I went and met this kitten. I played with and talked to him for some time; I wanted to be sure that this was a good fit. Finally, I decided I definitely wanted to bring him home. Our Humane Society charges a lot more for kittens than for adult cats, but that's good, because it helps subsidize the care of the hard-to-place cats.

When he came home, he was very quiet and willing to sit on my lap for a long, long time. He was not at all sure about the dogs. He seemed to be saying, "What are those things, anyway?"

But within 48 hours, the shoe was on the other foot! He decided those dogs didn't seem too bad or scary, and that maybe they might be good to play with. Then he was driving Remy (my Yorkie-Chihuahua mix) crazy! Usually Remy is the one driving other animals crazy with his insatiable play desires. But Remy is five years old, and Louis was six months old, and Louis can play all day long, if someone will engage with him.

Louis also like to leap around the living room, bouncing off the furniture and pretending to be an acrobat. He would jump on to the chair Casanova likes to sleep in, and bounce on Casanova's head. But Cass is old now, as I've mentioned, and usually isn't too playful. He is, however, extremely patient, and when Louis started dancing on his head, he just patiently waited until Louis finally settled down and napped with him.



Pretty freaking cute, huh?

I love having a kitten around the house, too. He jumps and plays all the time. He loves his toys, and you can basically just give him any old thing and he'll totally entertain himself with it: a bookmark with a piece of yarn tied around it, a bottle cap, a barrette, whatever! I really love him. Oh, and yeah... he grew on Hubby, too. And he gets along great with both dogs. He doesn't drive Remy crazy anymore, and they love to play together. Louis is a great addition to our family.



The other great news that has kept me very busy lately is that Hubby opened a new shop. He's in the pet business (told you he loved animals!), and was working in a small, cramped location, leasing space from someone loathsome. Now he's in a bigger, bright new shop, and while expanding is always a big risk, we're also both very excited about the new place. Wish us luck!

Posted by Jean at 11:22 AM | Permalink | Comments

Again, it's been just months since I posted last. Things have been quite crazy around here.

On New Year's Eve, we had to have our other cat put down, just six weeks after Chester's death.

Jolson was my Hubby's almost-17-year-old black-and-white Maine Coon cat. Back in his day, Jolie was the biggest cat I'd ever seen, weighing in at 25-30 pounds. He hated dogs, but he tolerated ours. He would spend all day on our porch, greeting visitors and attacking any strange dog foolish enough to enter our yard. He had been really slowing down and showing his age, but he went downhill quickly after Chester died.

Finally, on New Year's Eve, he refused to eat, and when he tried to walk, he staggered and stumbled. Hubby had that cat from when Jolie was a little kitten, and he was deeply heartbroken. Hubby says he can't stand to feel the life go out of one more animal, so I took Jolson to the emergency vet to be put to sleep. I just couldn't stand to post about one more animal's death; in fact, I didn't have the heart to tell many of my friends at first. I'm so tired of losing our precious pets!

Then one of our dogs started having diarrhea. He's got kind of a tender tummy, so it wasn't that worrisome at first. But I was having to clean up diarrhea--often obviously explosive diarrhea--from the kitchen floor every morning, so off to the vet went Casanova, our French bulldog.

As I've said, I'm getting really tired of telling these sad stories about our pets. So, I'll try to cut to the chase here. Casanova is alive, but he has cancer. We tried a few different meds to help the diarrhea, but when nothing worked, we did an x-ray. They thought they saw a lump in his belly, but it was hard to see. So they wanted a fasting x-ray (so his belly was empty), so we did that, and then an ultrasound. We found a four-centimeter mass in his intestines. It did not look operable, and the vet advised us to just enjoy what time we have remaining with Cass. So that's what we are doing.

I still clean up diarrhea some mornings (and afternoons, and evenings), but he's on a bland diet now, so it's not quite as nasty as it was. He's losing weight, perhaps from the diet, more likely from the cancer, or maybe both. The whole thing really sucks, and this one will really rip out Hubby's heart. I've never seen him so in love with an animal, and believe me, he is a true animal lover.

So as painful as all this is for me, I guess I at least have the distraction of needing to care for someone else. And Casanova still seems to feel good. He's happy and wants to cuddle and love us up still. Sometimes he still even wants to play, but he is 11 years old, which is getting old for a Frenchie.

Finally, since this is the "Bad News" post, my daughter did not get into her college of choice. It's a bummer, but now she'll go to a college in town. So maybe I don't mind her staying near home a little longer.... :-)

Posted by Jean at 9:42 AM | Permalink | Comments