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Friday, September 30, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 27 Sept – The Bitch From Borlänge Ch. 3

Oh my god. It’s happening already. Smoothy has altered the plot, and he’s been grabbing all the best adjectives! I’m either stuck with, ’me too,’ or that’s something ‘I am not, or can’t do.’ Superkat—indeed. I need to make The Bitch stronger than that, more than a superhound. Does he hold some kind of masculine advantage? Muscle strength? This won’t be easy work, a cunning adversary, and clever. Hmm, perhaps too clever. Curiosity can work out poorly for a kat—it’s common knowledge. Kats sometimes climb trees they can’t get down from. I am still well in the game. Where is he now?
I’m guessing Stockholm or Upsalla. Denmark maybe. Norway? Why would anyone go there? I’m guessing Stockholm, maybe Malmo, some big city waste land anonymity.

The Bitch From Borlänge
By Ellie of Cameron



Chapter 3

Erickson met me at the station—a bone in his mouth as usual. He always has a bone in his mouth. It’s almost Freudian or something, but whatever.
“Tip came in,” he tells me. “One of those cell phone things. Kid took a movie of a burning car and caught this kat— Rosengaard district, Malmö. He shoved a photo in my hand and drooled with modest excitement. “Look familiar?”

It’s a slightly overweight, male, with white socks and a coat that’s 50 shades of gray. “It looks like we got lucky.”

“Good police work,” Erickson wuffed.

I told him, “All you did was sniff at your computer. Never even had to move your ass.”
Well someone’s got to do it,” he says. “Not as easy as it looks.”
“I know. You’re right. You are the gears of the machine. You’re indispensible.” That seems to satisfy him and he wonders off, back to his desk— sits on the floor and does his best to look alert. Some males are easy to get on with, others not so much.

Rosengaard – 28 September.

I’m in Rosengaard, a Swedish tide pool reeking life. 24-7 mid east western: outlaws, priests and bullies, and good people—mostly poor people hanging on to see what happens next. Survivors.
I’m uneasy, and a bit excited. Totally alert. This might be dangerous, these streets . . . good looking gal like me. I asked Inspector Johansson for some back up.

“Oh.” He scratched his ear. “No way. Short handed as it is. They keep on cutting back, replacing us with bureaucrats. Gas for trip to Stockholm. . . . 13,12 krowns a liter. There’s no way.” He sat on the floor to scratch an ear. “I’m paying you from the emergency fund. Keep that to yourself,” he sniffs.
I will. I feel a little guilty. I’ve been lucky, have two servants and a good life when I want it. Sleuthing isn’t work for me, it’s what I am, and danger is my pleasure—keeps a dawg alive

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 25 Sept – The Bitch From Borlänge Ch. 2


The Bitch From Borlänge

By Ellie of Cameron


Smoothy Intro: – 25 Sept 2016

Part 2

I should say right off I have a bit of byslexia—you’re going to see typos . . . part of my charm. I can read and speak Swedish, English, German, and some Spanish when I’m in the mood. I write English with a Chicago 50’s accent, and have the grace of an Olympic athlete, gymnast, poetry in motion. Strong. I lift my own weight without effort—straight up, tree high, leap across large spaces in a single bound. I’m Superkat. Catcher of flys—that fast, and fluid, mercury in motion. In a fur coat I call vintage noir, spectrum of black to gray, hard to see in the dark, and softer than cashmere—this above white socks. Totally cool.

I’m tellin’ you all this so you know I’m not a pussy, and can smell a rat a long way off. I live on sardines, and am willing to work for sardines on occasion—short term jobs, if you know what I mean. I stay up late and don’t mind the odd snack at an all night diner. Scrambled eggs and toast are good. I’m curious about taste—curious by nature, one might say. I work with an extensive cognitive map that needs to know where things are—behind closed doors. It’s hard to keep me out of where I want to be.

I heard Johansson hired The Bitch. Word gets around. I call her Ellie, that’s her name. Good looking for a bog. A decent coat, although some think it could de thicker—I’m just sayin. Ellie’s good at sniffing, trying to sort out where I am by now, I guess. She’ll de a worthy challenge, fast across an open field. I don’t do open fields. I’m more an inside sort of kat, but I digress. The hound is looking for me. I can almost hear her snuffling. Time for me to hide.

*          *          *

It’s 3 a.m. in the Rosengaard district—Malmö, a good place to hide. Police don’t go here, and the locals don’t ask questions. Even rats are tolerated; some are members of the infamous ‘Survivors Club,’ an easy group to join, but hard to leave. A kind of blood-in, blood-out thing. I’ve never been a joiner.

Monday, September 26, 2016

Observing Sweden – 25 September 2016 - No-Go Zones

Embassy: No-go zones ‘do not exist in Sweden’

Taken from: The Local
Published: 23 Sep 2016 15:40 GMT+02:00
Updated: 23 Sep 2016 16:37 GMT+02:00

Sweden’s embassy in Budapest has sharply rebuked Hungary after an official leaflet claimed that Stockholm and other European cities had become “no-go areas”.

Flyers warning of “hundreds of no-go areas in European cities”, which highlighted Stockholm along with London, Brussels, Marseille, Berlin and the Copenhagen-Malmö area, were this month sent to millions of households in Hungary ahead of its referendum next month on EU refugee quotas, reports the Financial Times.

The leaflets claimed that migrants have overrun hundreds of “no-go” areas in Europe which “the authorities cannot keep under control” and where “the norms of the host society (…) barely prevail”.
Counsellor Anna Boda, the Deputy Head of Mission at the Swedish Embassy in Hungary, told The Local via email on Friday that representatives from Sweden, as well as Germany and the UK, have been in contact with Hungary’s Foreign Minister Peter Szijarto to protest against “the false information”.

“It is important to us that accurate information about Sweden is given to the citizens of Hungary. The embassy has therefore had reason to object sharply to a map of Europe with red markings in a handful of member states, including Sweden, in which the Hungarian government claims that so-called ‘no-go zones’ exist, where police and the state have no control over citizens’ safety,” she said.

Meanwhile, in the Reality Zone

Swedish police lose control amid refugee crisis as number of ‘no-go zones’ rises to 55

The number has risen from 50 in February, when the police last gave a comprehensive report on the issue, and last week, when the law enforcement agency gave an update. According to media reports, the service is facing a major crisis of self-confidence, with as many as three officers on average asking to resign on a daily basis. Internal polls say four officers out of five have been considering a change of profession lately.

“We have a major crisis. Many colleagues are choosing to quit,” police officer Peter Larsson told the Norwegian broadcaster NRK. “A drastically worsened working environment means many colleagues are now looking for other work.”

If officers go into a no-go zone, they risk being verbally attacked or pelted with stones. Patrol cars may be set ablaze or stolen.

Crime rates in the blacklisted areas are on the rise, the police report said. The offenses range from vandalism to drug crimes to sex assaults and gun violence. One particular example is Malmo, Sweden’s third-largest city, where more than 70 cars were set on fire by arsonists over several days. The police managed to arrest only one suspect while investigating those attacks.

Ironically, after the Hungarian government used the existence of no-go zones in Europe to promote its cause for an upcoming referendum on EU quotas, the Swedish embassy rebuked it saying that no such areas existed in their country.

“It is important to us that accurate information about Sweden is given to the citizens of Hungary. The embassy has therefore had reason to object sharply to a map of Europe with red markings in a handful of member states, including Sweden, in which the Hungarian government claims that so-called ‘no-go zones’ exist, where police and the state have no control over citizens’ safety,” Anna Boda, the Deputy Head of the Swedish diplomatic mission in Budapest told The Local.

No-go zone” is a loaded term with no clear definition and caused division earlier amid the ongoing refugee crisis in Europe. Last year Paris wanted to sue Fox New for a report, which said no-go zones existed in the French capital.

Earlier today in Malmo

Four men injured in scooter shootout in Sweden
Posted about 5 hours ago

Four men have been injured, one critically, in the centre of Sweden’s southern city of Malmo, in what police said appeared to be a targeted attack by gunmen riding scooters. The shooting broke out shortly before 7:00pm (local time) in a street in the southern city’s Fosie district. Police in the area evacuated one of the injured to the city hospital.

“The three other injured were able to make their own way to hospital,” police said in a statement.
According to witnesses interviewed by the SydSvenskan newspaper, local residents were able to take the injured to hospital in their cars before emergency services arrived.

“The attackers were able to flee on scooters. An inquiry has been opened for attempted murder. No suspect has been apprehended,” the police statement said. Multiple eye witnesses told Swedish media that there had been a car chase, with the four victims in one vehicle and two scooters pursuing them.
The car ended up ramming into a tree before multiple individuals on the scooters, who all had their faces covered, opened fire on the vehicle, shooting off some 20 rounds, local media reported.
“They were firing automatic weapons,” an eyewitness said.

One of the victims was hit in the head and remains in critical condition.
While Sweden is generally a peaceful, safe country with low crime rates, police have had difficulty addressing violence in poorer neighbourhoods in Stockholm, Gothenburg and Malmo.
In recent years, there have been grenade attacks, shootings and incidents of car arson.
At the end of August, an eight-year-old child was killed when a grenade was thrown into the apartment where he was sleeping.

One of the people registered at the address was a person who had been convicted for murder in a settling of scores between members of the Somali community in Gothenburg.

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 24 September 2016


 Postcard from Ellie: 24 September 2016

This is so weird. Smoothy got upset because I used his name in my story. Now he wants to write the total Smoothy part of my book. I don’t know, sounds complicated, and a giving up control of plot. Where will the story go?

“Come after me,” he says. “Chase me with words. Come play with me. As smooth as silk, I slip away, or reappear to play with you.”

I said okay. I’ll take a chance. But it could ruin the story. Simply kill it—it might simply end in space . . . or could be fun. We’ll see what happens, but I’m saying right now, and in print, I take no responsibility for anything the Smoothy character says or does within the contents of my book. The Smoothy character will be beyond my fictional control—or not. We’ll see how this goes. I guess we’ll hear from the fictional Smoothy next. As for the real life Smoothy—He can run, but  he can’t hide.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Postcards From Another Point of View 23 Sept 2016


The Bitch From Borlänge

By Ellie of Cameron

Part 1

Stockholm – 22 September.

Inspector Johansson was a nervous sort, paranoid and not well suited to police work, but it ran in the family. He was desperate, as usual, and had called in the B team to help unravel the case. Lindberg was there, a flighty Irish Setter with an accent, had his hair and nails done twice a week. A stuck up, pedigreed sort—good at sitting, but not much else.

Erickson, the crime team’s bloodhound, was curled up on the couch with a bone in his mouth. Also present were two dachshunds, Fritz and Max, who had connections in low places. They only spoke German, and some bad English, but Johansson could understand most of what they said . . . or pretended to.

“I guess you’ve all guessed why you’re here,” Johansson started out.

Max broke an uncomfortable silence that followed. “Ja, sure. Das herring thing,”

“Exactly. Yes,” Johansson barked. “Twenty tons of herring stolen from Arlanda Airport. It was being shipped to Japan, but never got on the plane.”

“That was almost two months ago.” Erickson dropped his bone in an ashtray and sat up straight, doing his best to look intelligent. He loved attention.

“Ja. Precise!” Johansson sat down on his desk. “The A Team has been working on it, and we have a name.

“Well done!” Lindberg wagged his tail. “We knew you’d get him.”

“But, we didn’t get him . . . yet. The newspapers are hounding me. There was an article in Aftonbladet about the case lasts week. We know who it is, and that’s the problem. Déjà Vu again for me. It’s that infernal kat burglar. Smoothy.”

“Ah. Dat Smoothy is a hard one catching,” Fritz sniffed.

“Tell me about it. It’s been eight years and as many thefts. The golden carp stolen from the Uppsala  Museum, that copper Dingus from Falun, The Platinum Bone of Contention—taken from the King’s bedroom for God’s sake. I could go on, but you all know the story. The papers are killing me.”

“Well, we all know what newspapers are good for.” Erickson growled.

“The reason I’ve called you here today . . .” Johansson paused as if reluctant to continue. “I am bringing in, The Bitch, from Borläng. She’ll be on a short leash, but you’ll have to work with her. I know it won’t be easy, but she may well be our only chance.”

“No way. Are you now forgetting how she friggen bit me,” Lindberg yowled.
“You need to learn to keep it in your fur,” Johansson said.

“I only gave ‘er a bit of a sniff,” the setter argued. “She was in heat, and comin’ on so charmin’ and all.

“She’s a good looking bitch. I’ll giver her that,” Said Erickson.

To Be Continued

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 18 September 2016

Postcard from Ellie 


It’s been an excellent day here in Sweden, cloudy but comfortable. I was on a morning tour with mom, down by the Darlarna River where I often find inspiration.

I was sitting on the pier, just thinking about life in general when it came to me. The title for my new book! I’m going to call it: “The Bitch From Borlänge.” It will be based on my experiences with the Major Crimes Squad here. An incredibly cool police hound tracks down dangerous criminals the Swedish cops are unable to apprehend. A Scandinavian thriller! I can’t wait to start. Smoothy has borrowed my doggenkeyborden so I can’t begin right now, but that’s okay. It gives me time to work on a plot.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 17 September 2016


Postcard From Smoothy                                                            17 September 2016

Ellie’s been barking about how she’s going to be a police dog and write crime stories between photo ops and modelling. The mind boggles, but whatever. She’s a good hound and lets me use her Doggenkeyborden to work the computer. I wish her well.

As for me I’d rather be at home, inside the house, or out on the yard when it’s nice, but it’s getting colder after five warm, sunny days. Speaking of house, I wasted two more flower pots, and another lamp. It’s not my fault. I was chasing a fly and those damn plants got in the way. The ‘thing on a string’ thing is fun, but nothing beats live meat. Flys are great, and spiders are fun to torture, but I haven’t seen many of them. To tell the truth I’m a little bored today.

I’ve been thinking about starting an advice column for kats. I’ve been around the block a few times — my 5th incarnation this one. The column would be strictly for felines, of course . . . maybe the odd dog if one was having problems with a feline house-mate. Not for human consumption. I should put that under the title of the column.  What would I call it? Dear Tabby? Yuk! Info For Felines, might work.

I have some interesting friends. Psycho Kitty for instance. Not sure I’d want to meet him in person, but he would be fun (and safe) to read. My other friends are relatively sane, but also interesting. Gracy, Shy and Abby live somewhere in Kansas. They might write. And there are others: Boots, Dolly and Felica. Lulu, Foxie . . . Snooky. No idea where they live. And Libra—wonder what she’s like. Cooperative? Fair minded? Indecisive?

The female servant’s out with Ellie on one of their neighborhood tours. They walk ten klicks some days — a Swedish mile. Forgetabout it! Male’s upstairs again. There’s not much going on this gray sky, late September afternoon.

I think I'll run this up the flagpole — see if anyone salutes.

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 15 September 2016


Postcard From Ellie:

Well, it’s like I’m having doggy-vu again. Another contest and no ribbon. A stuffed shirt English judge this time. Seemed a bit far back, if you want my opinion. He’s said my coat was too thin, then added I was “An exciting youngster,” and gave me another “Very Good” rating. Yuk.

I still don’t have a Hollywood agent, but there was some good news yesterday. I went to a special police dog training class. We are learning about following scent, which I am already good at. They hid goodies in various boxes for me to sniff out. I made it look harder than it was. There will be more advanced training next week. I wouldn’t mind doing some police work. It could be a big help with writing my crime novel and I’m pretty excited about it. We Scandinavians have a special talent for that sort of thing. I’ll probably get to wear some kind of uniform and work on interesting cases.

Below is a photo taken at my sniffing class. It’s not  a very good one because you are not supposed to take pictures there. It’s all very secret. This photo was taken by a puppyrazi poodle I met in Stockholm.


Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 10 September 2016


Postcard from Smoothy:

Ellie was at another training class last night, but she won’t tell me much about it. Something to do with investigation, she says. The hound is a Pandora’s box of possibilities.  Today she’s is off to another contest and I’m at home guarding the house, which is a good thing because I saw this very long green snake in front of the house. It didn’t dare come closer when it saw I was watching.

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 14 September 2016

Postcard from Smoothy:  Bio


I should right a bio, since you read my words, and see my photos. I’m Swedish of course, and bilingual, as are most Swedes. I learned American (Not English) from an xpat Main Coon kat, named Shank. Shank knew my mom ‘in the carnal way’ as they say in the bible. He and his servant were on the run from someone in New York. I never asked who it was, or why. Sometimes it’s better not to know things.

Sometimes I think of Shank as my dad, but it’s confusing—there were so many involved. There was something with a Rag Doll. Grandma? Very flexible, a high priced call bitch. Ah, those Rags. I feel her in me. I can go limp anytime I want, bend over backwards, left or right —270 degrees, 300 on a good day. Humans will never know what it is to go limp in a lap, and be stroked gently. As good as it gets. Sometimes I over relax and go to sleep.

After a good relax I turn on the after burner, run around the house and tease Ellie.  She can’t catch me. I’m much faster in the house, but she might catch me in an open field—or not. I can turn faster than a rabbit. I play ‘chatch the thing on a string’ with the servants when I’m in the mood. It’s fun and gives me opportunity for major flexing and high jumps. I can do a meter and half now, both straight up and horizontal, one place to another. Lamps keep getting in my way, but there are fewer of them now.

I can’t spell worth a damn. I should tell you that. This is my 5th incarnation and I’ve never learned. I’m also a bit dyslexic, but if you get what I say, it doesn’t matter. Kats have 9 incarnations. You’ve probably heard the old “nine lives” bit, but it’s not what you think. The real meaning was written by the Egyptians, a long time ago, when kats were worshiped. The wise guys knew kats lived through 9 incarnations . . . with spaces between. You have to wait your turn, which isn’t bad. Floating around in space—without a body is relaxing.

 After the 9th incarnations I get to make a move, up or down the chain of consciousness. Being born kat it petty good. Not many entities as slick as us. Human form is as good as it gets, I guess, but being born a kat’s not bad. Some people think dogs are smarter than kats. How can they think that? Anyone can to what they’re told. It takes brains to do what you’re told not to do.
More of this later. Ellie’s barking at the door. Probably nothing. Ellie hears things.

Monday, September 12, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 8 September 2016

Postcard from Ellie:

I got my SAG card today. I am so pumped! Now I am ready for the Hollywood. I haven’t shown it to Smoothy. He wouldn’t understand, and to tell you the truth he can’t read.

I’m on my way to another training class this evening. Another competition coming up this week end, after that I need to find an agent. Wish me luck.

Thursday, September 8, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 7 September 2016

Postcard from Smoothy:


It’s a nice fall day in Sweden. I’ve been hanging around the yard with Ellie  – patrolling the fence. She had a birthday this week. Ellie’s two by human reckoning; I’m not sure what that is in dog years.  She’s been running on about Hollywood again. Somebody got her a SAG card, she says. I haven’t seen it yet.

We went back inside for lunch, and as you can see she’s hogging the dog food bowl. “Another contest this Saturday,” she tells me. “I need to bulk up.”

Whatever. I climb the tree to my food on the counter which is dog proof. Kats rule!

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View – 4 September 2016

Ellie - Mom - Best 
Postcard From Ellie – 4 September 2016

Well, were back . . . without much to brag about. Another ribbonless event. It was a hard go from the git go. We arrived a bit later than intended and our location from the ring was too far away to see what was going on. Then it rained and we had problems setting up the tent. Mom got stressed and when she gets stressed I get stressed. Our tour of the show ring was nothing to write home about, but we did okay . . . and I did not become distracted. Even so, I only got a “Very Good.” This was my first “Very Good.” I’ve always gotten “Excellents” before. The judge was Irish and looked like she was having a headache or something, but whatever.

Two more shows to go this season, starting with next weekend. We’ll be ready for it.
Still no word from Hollywood, but I expect an e-mail soon.

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Postcards From Another Point Of View -1

Bruce & Smoothy - Fix 20 Aug 2016 
Postcard From Bruce:   3 September 2016

This is our third week with Smoothy. He’s doing well, growing, and purring a lot, and loud. He sleeps in the top of one of our two cat trees, preferring the one by the window at night. Daytimes naps are taken in the other by the kitchen. He is happy to sleep in our laps, and be petted. This is something wife and I both wanted. Smoothy used the sandbox from the first time he saw it—no problems there, but nothing is easy. His claws and teeth are like needles. Collateral damage so far is: one lamp that used to sit on a window sill, wife’s scratched wrist, water soaked desk and papers. One of the bedroom curtains is down, along with the rack and screws that held it, pulled out of the wall. Not sure how to repair. We need to keep the cat out of our offices and bedroom.

My wife and Ellie are off to a dog show today, sixty or so competitors will come from all over Sweden, Germany and Denmark. People bring tons of gear to these events, brushes and combs and dishes, food bowls, plastic poop bags, water, small tents . . . leashes. Raingear— always good to have in Sweden, documents and forms filled out, cages with wheels—and locks.

There was a dog napping at one of the last contests. Owner left her dogs inside their cages in a locked station wagon. Someone, or ones, grabbed them, cages and all. She is heart broken, all her work, and loving care, and training grooming—gone.  I feel so sorry for her. Owners and their dogs— intensity of love is scary. Gossip theory is, the dog-napped dogs, two Labradors, would probably be shipped to Russia, where they would have their I.D. chips removed, and resold.

Smoothy Ellie Meet Best 
Postcard From Smoothy:    3 September 2016

Everything is going well. I’ve pretty much scoped out the house, but there is a blocked off area—closed door opens to a garage and stairway. What the hell is up there? The two rooms with desks are more or less off limits. I knocked over a small flower vase, full of water while I was using the keyboard on mom’s desk.

The bedroom is also off limits. I was climbing a curtain and the whole dam thing came down. It might have killed me. I was able to get under the bed before it hit the floor. Housewoman was pissed, but she got over it pretty fast.

Ellie’s okay— an ego as big as Brazil, but she’s nice, polite you might say, except when it comes to her food. She’s a bitch about food, but we’ve been getting friendly, and we play sometimes.  Ellie and mom are at a beauty contest today. The houseman has used the door to the garage and gone upstairs. What the hell does he do up there?

Poem taken from Writer’s Almanac

I fell in love with this one:

Future Plans
by Kate Barnes 

When I am an old, old woman I may very well be
living all alone like many another before me
and I rather look forward to the day when I shall have
a tumbledown house on a hill top and behave
just as I wish to. No more need to be proud—
at the tag end of life one is at last allowed
to be answerable to no one. Then I shall wear
a shapeless felt hat clapped on over my white hair,
sneakers with holes for the toes, and a ragged dress.
My house shall be always in a deep-drifted mess,
my overgrown garden a jungle. I shall keep a crew
of cats and dogs, with perhaps a goat or two
for my agate-eyed familiars. And what delight
I shall take in the vagaries of day and night,
in the wind in the branches, in the rain on the roof!
I shall toss like an old leaf, weather-mad, without reproof.
I’ll wake when I please, and when I please I shall doze;
whatever I think, I shall say; and I suppose
that with such a habit of speech I’ll be let well alone
to mumble plain truth like an old dog with a bare bone.

“Future Plans” by Kate Barnes from Where the Deer Were. © David R. Godine, 1994. Reprinted with permission.