By: Wayne Litke

Have you ever seen puffy, white clouds that look like sheep? I am sure you have, but have you ever seen a puffy, white coyote pursuing those sheep in the sky? I certainly have, but that was when I was much younger and my imagination was much more active. Nowadays, friends think my sense of humour is a little strange–the odd person who does not know me well has called me insane–but it's really just a case of my imagination not matching my age. My wife calls it immaturity, so I have to remind her that immaturity is a phase teenagers and some young adults go through. It might sound strange, but having never outgrown my childhood, therefore I can honestly say that I never reached that immature stage my wife refers to.
However, there are some things so strange in this world that I cannot imagine them occurring (and I have an active imagination). Take for example the murder in Medicine Hat a few years in which two parents and their son were all stabbed. I cannot comprehend how the couple's daughter could participate in the act. It is simply beyond belief, and so are the actions of the Regina Police Department in response to that city's latest homicides.
The police department must not have any idea who killed three members of a family from Karen, a province in the country formerly known as Burma. The murder of the family including a three-year-old boy shocked everyone in Saskatchewan, as did the police response to the triple murder. After several days of silence regarding the ongoing investigation, residents of the housing complex where the family was killed received an extensive and worrisome questionnaire. People were expected to record in detail what they had been doing in the five-day period in which the family is believed to have been killed.
The questionnaire went as far as to ask residents if they participated in the murders or helped plan the crimes, and how much cash they would contribute to a fund for therapy for the victims' family. Perhaps, more alarming is the fact the document asks people to carefully think before answering the survey and also provides explicit instructions on how to correct any mistakes after an answer has been provided.
As I said earlier, I can't imagine filling out such a form, especially if I made a mistake. A correction in a critical section of the survey could be considered a sign, an admission or a pseudo confession, and I can imagine the subsequent interrogation that would take place. Personally, I think the murders resulted from one of two causes: a case of mistaken identity or a family tie (or business connection) that goes back to the country formerly known as Burma. I am using that improper and antiquated terminology since this column is being penned en route to British Columbia for our last family wedding of 2010. Well I am hoping it's the last wedding this year. In any case, I am far happier attending weddings than the funerals we were going to prior to our marathon of marriages.
While engaging the traffic at Calgary, my wife spotted a unique bumper sticker. Its terminology delivered a fresh approach to an old safe driving technique that I have to share with readers. The bumper sticker stated, “Unless you're toilet paper, get off my ass.” That pretty well sums up the inconsiderate and hazardous act of tailgating.
While on our trip, we also received an education in identifying prairie pilots. No, they do not wear Stetsons or cowboy boots, but they can be spotted close to a mile away.
How is that possible?
It's easy if a person knows what to look for.
As our aircraft was taxiing down the tarmac preparing for liftoff, I felt the craft lurch to one side. I quickly looked out the window and guess what I saw. A gopher was making a mad dash for the edge of the runway and the safety of the grass. It was then that I realized our pilot was a prairie boy who simply wanted to eliminate a pest. Looking up I could see him sitting in the cockpit and frowning as he watched his target run out of range. I could feel his frustration. It wasn't hard to imagine.