Maybe better not to mess with this dude…
Well, I just have to bring your attention to a story mama read to me this morning about a boy and a dog, from The New York Times Opinionator/Menagerie section, A Boy, A Dog, A Decision, and written by a very, very sharp mama, Leigh Ann Henion. Would that all mamas could have a little of her insight and empathy added to their knowledge of how to really ‘see’ their children and teach them objectively one of life’s crucial lessons.
Something similar happened in mama’s life once.
A raccoon got into the chicken coop that mama shared with her elderly neighbor and the next morning the neighbor called and said don’t go up the coop this morning and of course he was trying to protect mama’s feelings and was a kind man and so she didn’t go.
Now she’s thinking that maybe it would have been better to see the effects of an animal’s nature for herself and not give in to self-protection that may in fact be part of self-delusion. Things of this sort are not pretty. Often death is not pretty, of animals, of anthros. But more often death is simply a reality and to turn away is, in a way, missing a very poignant part of life.
Mama says, listen to me, I talk big, but I’m as big a wuss as anyone about these things; I just wish I weren’t.
Mama is not, no pun intended, a spring chicken.
She says that perhaps as one gets less young, one’s focus on subjects of death becomes sharpened, becomes more relevant.
But the little boy in this story learned so much at his young age. And what he learned will stand him in good stead, thanks to his perceptive and caring mama.
I brought in a little bird once. I had stalked it and had it in my muzzle and dropped it at mama and papa’s feet so they could admire my skill. Maybe because I’m a house and garden kitty, I didn’t for some reason kill it. A few seconds later when papa picked it up, it flew away, a little wee-wah but very much alive.
The reason things went this way is simple: I had just been fed.
Also, I’m even a little bit nervous around my fake mouse…
