Here’s your Halloween photo right here, k? Don’t ask me for another one, because I am a pagan and I . . . that thought didn’t go anywhere. My bad. Even pagans dress up for Halloween. What the heck is wrong with me? Last time I dressed up for Halloween I was a guy with a chip on his shoulder. Really. I got a lot of good laughs but some folks didn’t think it was funny at all, in fact they were somewhat uncomfortable about it. The wood chip was held on by a safety pin. That kept me safe. I hope it lasts, it’s been a few years.
The fine fellow in the photo is Midnight, an American medium-hair feline. He’s big! He’s got the shelter thing all down and stuff. Don’t fault him for that. It’s a reality that he has to deal with. That’s what we’ve got to do, global warming and modern lynching and all that. Midnight (I did not make that name up) has it figured out. He finds a high shelf and then strikes a pose, or he waits at the door of the pen and makes it clear that he really really wants out. Who can blame him. But . . . he also likes to hang out in the play room, where we put cats to give them some time to run and tumble and roam and growl and hiss and lounge and, and, and . . .I do like to ramble on. But . . . Midnight goes out with the teenagers: Jordy, Tango, and Tom Cat, and sometimes Cyrus. Not everybody can do that, because judgement leaps out. Not the best of situations. That’s why cats have discernment instead. It narrows down the field. Says me.
You know what?I got another insulting reply on this blog, after I said that I would not tolerate such acceptable expression. I said I would not, then I fudged on that, then I changed my mind and went with my first inclination – I friggin trashed the post. And – oh. wait – I have to point out that I might be wrong on the animal shelter controversy. What if I am? A fool be I. A pile of matter, often, among scientists, known as – oh never mind. How did it come to that? I took the minority stance, which opened me to the majority prance. So if I was wrong I am screwed. My bad. Boy howdy I wish I’d been more – ummm – prudent – ummm – intelligent – ummm – what the heck is wrong with me? You detractors can just go ahead and detract as you will. I’m out of words here, in this blog and in my whole life. No friggin deal at all. It happens to the best of us, at which point we are no longer the best. I bow, you win. Meanwhile I will stay home, because boldness – because righteousness – because friggin victory – because my ignorance – because I chose the wrong side – and I really don’t like going into town anyway, and or unless I have to go to work. I work with animals. I work in a place where I might – oh, never mind. My voice is, ummm, useless. Rational workings have won the day. Leave me that, my misconception. Midnight is not your cup of tea. Says me.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously, y’all. Please, k?
Addendum: It turns out that my tone of civil sarcasm, in today’s post, has been, perhaps, misinterpreted by some. Sometimes writing can be like driving on black ice in December. I actually wanted to gradually back away from the Stray Hearts shelter tragedy, but I know that it is not over, I know that through a Facebook post which said that with the vet down and gone it is time to go after (two) others. That smacks of vendetta. I don’t need to prove that it was vendetta, I can just go to the State Board of Vendetta and get them to support me. I think the Governor has a strong say on that Board, so it may be tough going. What really and still riles me is the media coverage of this case, last week, in the Taos News, on Taos Friction, on the local broadcasts from Albuquerque, and on the grapevine. They said that Dr. Aversa HURT animals. I read through the report from the State Veterinary Board’s ruling – as reported here already – and I restricted my commentary to cases cited with which I was actually familiar. Of them I found that all were either misrepresented or simply fabricated. Yeah, maybe I am mistaken as well. I don’t think so. I think the politics of this tsunami of an issue is much broader than is admitted. And I think that at least some of it smells of middle school politics. Read The Crucible twice and call me in the morning. People reported that the doc hurt animals. Of the ones (animals) with which I am familiar, all are well, as a result of the healing provided by the treatment, assisted by caregiving applied by non-aligned personnel, and all are living happy lives. I thought healing was the goal. But most of this addendum is reiteration. I pussyfooted (doh!) around directed intent because I saw a burnt up car. That was friggin stupid of me, I admit. I don’t know why I did that. There was no publicly disclosed proof that the arson was related to the scandal. My bad. And I must in closing admit that I never thought I’d see the day when ‘I heard it on TV so it must be true’ would jump out of ironic sarcasm and into the actual world. Too late. Hope no animals were watching. That’s gotta hurt.