You know the type. The woman who writes love letters to convicts on death row or to men of habitually vicious criminality. The neighbourhood cat lady who the SPCA finds in a house of 19 cats coated with feces and filth because she can’t turn a stray away. The dog-lover who always selects the lame dog at the animal shelter when corrigible, healthy dogs are available. Such is the lame dog syndrome, and in the field of foreign aid, Canada is a chronic patsy.
