In The Girl Who Was Saturday Night, there is a scene in which a rather seedy lion prowls down Saint Laurent and a 47-year-old woman has an asthma attack.

And it took me right back...to Auntie Gertrude...a larger than life grade one teacher who wasn’t my aunt really but she saw that my mother wasn’t doing well in small town life.

In the sixties, this woman realized that there was no place for children with “emotional needs” – the term was loose...so she started Harterre House, a private school located across from the Bnai Brith building on Peel...and she populated it with salty teachers and psychiatrists and psychologists and care workers and...it was quite something...and costly

And every summer, she rented a property in Old Orchard and ran a summer camp for epileptics and assorted children who couldn’t go home...

I’m short cutting the story.

There was a ritual at the end of the summer. Aunty Gertrude, and Donald, her son, would drive to Boston to Phylenes...a very well-known store...the idea was to buy it out and then bring everything home with the campers...no duties...the schizophrenics signed for the televisions!

(Ok...I’m playing!)

What has this to do with lions?

One summer, Donald was hesitant. There was a hurricane warning.

Aunty Gertrude said nonsense and off they went.

She had an excellent shopping spree. Phylene’s was empty.

Her only issue was that her asthma was acting up.

When they exited the building, there was in fact a full blown hurricane and Donald had to hold on to the telephone poles and Aunty Gertrude.

And when they got back to Old Orchard, the news story of the day was the fact that in the chaos, a lion had escaped from the petting zoo at Phylenes and was wandering the store.

Ah, said Aunty Gertrude, I knew there was a cat loose somewhere!

So Heather O'Neill's scene was dead on!”