When we first started in the office there was a flood of odd people, whom we later realised were "regulars", travelling around a circuit of the places where help of sympathy might be found. They were well known to the St Vincent de Paul Society, the Salvation Army, Youth and Community Services, The Community Health Centre, and sometimes the police. Our office was a new source to try out. Some of these people were genuine cases of harship, some were malingerers or malcontents, and some were just plain crazy.
An old lady, sobbing over the phone, asked Donna if Mr Stewart could help find her lost canary, which had been her only companion until it escaped from the cage. Manly police had referred her to me. I told Donna to ring the police and suggest that it was their job to search for lost pets-- I suspected they might be playing a joke on us. The desk sergeant was sympathetic:
"Yes, we know Mrs Jones. She often comes to see us about that canary. Actually the bird died in the cage about a year ago and a neighbour buried it. She won't accept a substitute."
Mrs Jones did not call again. Perhaps she found someone else to continue the search, or at least listen to her tale.
There was the "Blind and Deaf" man who wanted