Winnipeg Free Press (Newspaper) - July 23, 2015, Winnipeg, Manitoba
C M Y K PAGE 2
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Lottery numbers were not available at
press time due to a change in policy by
Western Canada Lottery Corp. to extend
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INSIDE
A man found dead inside a burnedout
home Monday in the 600 block
of Pritchard Avenue has been identified
as Justin Harvey Chezick, 42, of
Winnipeg.
Winnipeg police are treating the
death as suspicious, and homicide
detectives are investigating.
Fire crews arrived at the home at
approximately 7: 30 a. m. Monday and
knocked down a blaze, discovering
two dead pets inside. Later, a man's
body was found inside the home.
Winnipeg Police Service spokesman
Const. Jason Michalyshen said
Tuesday the circumstances surrounding
the death are suspicious.
" Based on our initial assessment
of the deceased at this time, we do
have concerns with respect to...
what the cause of death might be. At
this point, we're clearly identifying
that foul play is suspected here," he
said.
Anyone with information that
could help the investigation is asked
to call investigators at 204- 986- 6508
or Crime Stoppers at 204- 786- TIPS
( 8477).
- staff
Note to sensitive readers: If you are easily offended
by the word " poop," I suggest you skip
today's column and flip to something more
edifying, such as the comics.
E VERY once in a while, no
matter how carefully you
plan,
no matter
what safety
precautions you
take, you will find
yourself, through
no fault of your
own, in a completely
untenable
situation.
That is precisely
what happened
the other day
when my wife
drove to Saskatoon to pick up our
daughter, who had just wrapped up
her summer job, and left me home
alone to keep a watchful eye on our
two dogs, both of which have brains
the size of Fig Newtons.
Even though I was on my own, I bravely
decided to take our small white dog, the one
I have nicknamed " Mr. X," for a leisurely
stroll around our neighbourhood to exercise
the knee he had surgically repaired after
blowing out a ligament while being chased
around the dining room table by my son,
who probably should have known better.
The walk was largely uneventful until we
turned the corner at the top of our block and
started heading for home, which is when
Mr. X began lagging behind and became
something of a dead weight at the end of his
bright- red leash.
That is when I grouchily turned around
and spotted my pugnacious pup in the power
position, hunkered down so he could leave
a large doggie deposit - I will now activate
the caps- lock feature of my keyboard for
emphasis - IN THE MIDDLE OF THE
( BAD WORD) ROAD.
That is just the kind of incorrigible
canine Mr. X is. He gives the impression
of being a harmless, cute dog, but he also
has no qualms about defiantly pooping in
the middle of the road, in full view of our
always- alert neighbours.
Normally, this would not have been a
major issue, but it was at this exact moment
I realized I did NOT have a poop bag, one
of those handy, biodegradable plastic bags
you get for free from strategically stationed
dispensers in local parks.
Typically, I never leave the house without
a poop bag because my wife is always there
to remind me, but, as I have already mentioned,
she had left me to my own devices.
So I looked at Mr. X, and he looked at
me. " I'd pick it up myself but I don't have
opposable thumbs," was the clear telepathic
message my pint- sized pet sent me.
I will take a moment here to point out I am
an intensely responsible pet owner. When we
are out walking the dogs and I spot an pile of
poop along our route, I will turn to my wife
and snarl: " Look, dear! Some ( bad word)
jackwagon did not pick up after their ( bad
word) pet!"
So leaving Mr. X's unwanted gift in the
middle of the road was not an option. Given
where we live, it is entirely possible a wide
range of neighbours was peeking out from
behind their curtains to see whether I would
do the " right thing" or leave the formerly
pristine roadway flagrantly fouled.
It was at this moment I spotted a large
stick from a nearby tree that fallen into
the street. An idea began to take root in my
mind. As you have already deduced, I seized
the stick and - just like a kid at a summer
camp weenie roast - tried to impale the
poop as though it was a hotdog.
Look, I apologize for sharing these graphic
details, but I am telling the absolute truth,
because it is entirely possible some of you
might one day find yourselves in a similar
pet- related pickle.
As it turns out, the poop- on- a- stick plan
was an abject failure. Holding the fragrant
stick as far from my body as humanly possible,
I would take several halting steps and
then - PLOP! - my best intentions would
hit the road, so to speak.
I soon spotted another fallen tree branch
festooned with leaves, which triggered another
light bulb inside my panicked brain.
As Mr. X looked on in canine confusion, I
plucked about a dozen of the leaves and, as
though wrapping the most foul Christmas
present imaginable, used them to carefully
conceal the " gift" my dog had planted in the
middle of the street. And so, with Mr. X's
leash in one hand and a leaf- wrapped bundle
of toxic waste balanced in the other, we
made a break for the safety of our house.
We would have made it, too, except one of
my neighbours, who had just finished mowing
his lawn, seized on this moment to wave
us over to offer a cheery greeting.
" Hey, how's it going, Doug?" he chirped.
It was impossible for me to wave back, so
I smiled and said: " Well, my wife is away, so
I'm kind of on my own right now."
My neighbour chuckled a manly chuckle.
" Busy?" he asked.
" Yeah," I sniffed, waddling away in a
casual manner. " You might say I've got my
hands full."
doug. speirs@ freepress. mb. ca
Big to- do
over my
dog's doo
Watching two pooches while
wife's away a messy position
In the
Doug
House
Doug Speirs
LOTTERIES
MIKE APORIUS / WINNIPEG FREE PRESS
Victim found
after fire ID'd
A_ 02_ Jul- 23- 15_ FP_ 01. indd A2 7/ 22/ 15 10: 22: 01 PM
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