Posted by on Jun 21, 2015 | 6 comments

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That’s me, kickin’

Well, I read this article today in the NYT about what anthros think and do that makes their life, for want of a better word, worthwhile, and this started me ruminating. What indeed?

There are so many volunteer groups and protest groups and organizations for stopping drugs and abuse to children and women and the elderly and homeless activists and low-cost housing developers and so many more areas in which one can work for free (or pay) that will better the quality of life of others.

But then, I was thinking, well, yes, but there are those who can’t do those things even though their hearts are moved by poverty and injustice and compassion for those with less than others, and those people, too, have feelings about what makes their lives worthwhile. They just don’t stand on soapboxes easily.

Maybe they have the incredible good luck to find a perfect mate and kind friends and just try to live their lives as fully as possible while hoping to spread around a bit of joy and wonder at the miracle that we are here at all!

For example, some special people take in animals that might have been put down, and those special people protect and care for them.

Sometimes mama says to me, Oh, Loulou, I didn’t have it in me to be a nurse or a protester or an activist or a social worker and sometimes I wish I had that gene that makes anthros go off and fight poverty in Africa or other countries or be a radical feminist on a tear or write scathing ironic articles like Molly Ivins or Maureen Dowd, but Loulou, I just am not able to do that. Oh, well.

And I think, Mama, if you can just be like me, maybe that’s all you need to do. Just be loving and kind and don’t bite and don’t scratch and don’t whine when you don’t get the kibble you want and be grateful that that there are good people around you that care if you are sad or lonely and try to give as many snuggles as you get.

That’s what I tell mama.

If mama went to Africa, papa would probably go, too, and who would be with me? Oh, boy…

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And who would hold my String Game string?