My Divine Encounter

In recognition of my recent near-death experience – not to mention St. Jean Baptiste Day, cause for one of the back-to-back long weekends being enjoyed here in Quebec – I thought I might post evidence of my brush with the divine. There I was, gallivanting (sort of a cross between a strut and a skip and, as I assured Chelsea, totally straight) down the streets of olde Montreal when I came across a store that dared open its shutters on this holiest of holy, holy days. It was a thrift shop with the requisite piles of creepy kids books, ancient cameras and horrible art in front, all of which the shopkeeper promised – in the spirit of a baby chick – “Cheap! Cheap! Cheap!” While I initially discounted pretty much everything, this sunny little character – standing front and center – caught my eye.

At first glance, just your standard dude having his sores eaten by dogs. A quick Google search of “leper dogs sores”, however, reveals that our mystery guest is none other than St. Lazarus himself. While that answers one question, the far bigger ones – those of who owned this before it ended up at the thrift store and why they finally decided to part with such a conversation starter – remain, a la the Caramilk secret, a mystery. If anyone out there in the blogosphere can provide some insight, feel free to drop us a line. Until then, St. Lazarus remains a silent sentry of the the mean streets of Montreal, waiting for the next opportunity to change a life and, he secretly hopes deep in his heart of hearts, fight crime.