Sami

Forewarning: this isn't going to be a rant.  It's more personal than that.

I moved to my current house about 3 years ago.  There was a friendly couple across the street, with two cats.  They also fed a neighborhood cat that I referred to as "the ragamuffin."  He was very scraggly, and apparently, very old.  Mike and Darcy, my neighbors, said he had been renting his house for 7 years.  Mike's sister lived in the house before that for 7 years.  And during all this time, the ragamuffin was around.  Never belonging to anyone in particular, but mostly eating the food that Mike and Darcy provided.  He slept under their back deck.

A year later Mike and Darcy began having some marital problems and Darcy moved out.  Darcy was the animal lover.  She left behind her two beautiful cats, and of course, the ragamuffin was still around.  Mike made a notional effort to feed these animals, but not much more.  Whether it was because they were a representation of Dara, or because he just didn't care about cats, I don't know.  I began taking care of all three of them.

Darcy's two cats began to live on my patio.  I don't know what their real names were, but I called the white one "Ellie" and the tabby "Alexis."  Darcy would come to pick something up at her old house once every 3 months, stop by mine and say that she was working on a way to come back for Ellie and Alex.  About 10 months later she did.  Without any notice.  I just had a note on my door.  I wasn't too pleased, because they had become my pets. 

I was still feeding the ragamuffin when he came over and didn't find a meal elsewhere.  Somewhere during this period Mike moved out, and of course, he made no provision for the ragamuffin.  The ragamuffin began eating at my house more frequently, but he preferred to continue sleeping under the deck across the street.  Eventually I started going to the deck across the street every morning to put out food and water for him.  He had the house to himself.

I began to call him "Sami".  He was a black cat with long hair.  A white racoon mask on his face and a broad white stripe running from his chin down to his belly and below. Although he had matted fur from living outside, he was very cute from the neck up.  And very sweet.

I started thinking I might like to have Sami living on my patio.  I began luring him to my patio with food and water...and this, of course, saved me from going across the street every day to feed him.  Still, he returned "home" each night and slept under the deck.  On cold nights I'd retrieve him and put him in my garage.  He never liked that, and sometimes hid from me.  He'd rather sleep in 25 degree weather than indoors.

Slowly he began to spend more time with me, sleeping in my garden during the day, and under the deck across the street at night.  When I'd come home from work, he would hear the garage door and come across the street for feeding and brushing.  I bought a wire brush to comb out his mats, and he would roll on his side begging for the brush.  He had a raspy old meow, like you'd expect from an old tom. 

This went on for about 15 months...until Christmas Day, when an already slow 15+ year old cat slowed to about 1/4 of his normal speed.  He stopped eating.  And now, he wanted to sleep in my kitchen.  Uncharacteristic, and a sure sign that his time had run out.

This morning I did for Sami what I hope someone will do for me when I reach that stage.  Painless and five seconds.  I then buried him across the street -- at his home -- with the wire brush he loved.

It didn't seem right that Sami should disappear so quietly.  Here's a small animal who lived by his wits on the streets for 15 years.  Who knows how many times he went hungry.  How many times he was kicked by some cruel teenager, or chased by a neighborhood dog.  How many times he got caught in a Florida afternoon rainstorm, or slept out in the cold.  How many times he hurt himself in the ordinary course of business, like the rest of us, and soldiered through.

I often thought he must have been hit by a car at least once, because I've never seen an animal so careful about crossing the street.  He would wait.  And wait.  The coast had to be very clear before he'd cross.  Then he'd fast-walk -- he couldn't really run anymore -- the shortest distance to his destination.  Never even a close call during any of my observations.

You'd think that sort of hardship would make him wary of people, or animals.  Yet, he wasn't particularly shy around people or the other cats in the neighborhood.  He was wary, but did not panic.  Best of all, he would purr as soon as he saw me.  Before I even touched him.

He was a tough little guy, but very sweet.  I'm going to miss seeing him when I come home from work and brushing him before I go to bed.

So long Sami.  

Suicide Foods

I have always been tremendously entertained (in a sort of sick way) by those signs you see at BBQ joints with the cartoon pig happily holding a knife and fork, inviting you to c'mon in and carve up his flesh.

Now, there's a blog that captures those kinds of roadside images in one place, and provides both witty and insightful commentary on the phenomenon.  Suicide Food.  Makes you laugh and makes you think.

The author gives "noose ratings" to the roadside signs. I know you'll be curious, but you really don't want to see the ones with a 5 rating.  They aren't funny...just disgusting.

This Mardi Gras one rates 3 nooses, and is probably my favorite.

But you also don't want to miss an entire category of meat signs where sex is injected (ack!) into the image to make you even hungrier. An example:

Is It The Bear's Fault?

An 8-year old boy hiking with his father in the Great Smokies was attacked by an 86 pound black bear. There was no evidence the boy taunted or threatened the bear, but the bear tossed him around a bit, giving the boy some cuts, bruises and a tremendous scare.

The boy's father chased the bear off by pelting it with rocks and sticks.

All very unfortunate, but luckily, the child is largely unharmed. And he has a great story to tell.

Here's the problem: "Park rangers caught a young bear soon afterward in the same area and killed it when it charged them. Smokies spokeswoman Nancy Gray said rangers were sure it was the same bear."

Why was the bear killed? "Park officials said the attack along the popular Rainbow Falls trail was unprovoked. In most cases, bears attack people while trying to poach their food, but none was present during the attack Monday. John Pala said their clothes might have smelled like fried chicken from a meal an hour earlier."

Doesn't the bear have as much right to those woods as the people do? From our perspective it may appear to be unprovoked, but from the bear's perspective? We are encroaching on his territory.

Why can't human beings just say, "Wow, that's scary. I better look out for bears in the Smokies." No kidding.

Why is the answer that we have to destroy the animal, who was doing what only came naturally to it? Neither the boy nor the father were seriously harmed.

Is it because we have to punish the bear for daring to try and harm a person, particularly a child? Or is it because we want to establish our dominion over the Smokey Mountains, ensuring that others can traipse around in the woods without fearing anything from wildlife?

I think it's both. People are happy to walk in the woods where squirrels scramble around, birds chirp and deer panic at the crack of a twig. God forbid they see real honest to goodness wild animals in the woods. That's what zoos are for, right?

Let's not forget that bears don't eat people. While Black Bears are technically carnivores, their subsistence is largely plant based: twigs, buds, leaves, nuts, fruit, berries and honey; supplemented by insects, fish and small vertebrates. Bears attack people because they have become familiar with people, and the food they carry around. That seems as much our fault as the bears'.

By the way, this must have been a relatively young, or starving bear, because an 86 pound Black Bear is not very big at all. According to the National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Mammals, Black Bears average between 203-587 pounds. In fact, he probably weighed little more than the 8 year old boy he attacked.

Cruelty to Animals

This story makes me sick: Pro Golfer Kills Hawk A red-shouldered hawk, squawking in the background of an important golf instructional video? Let's kill it! This was no accident. The golfer lined up a number of balls and started hitting them in the hawk's direction. When one went close to the hawk, he got excited, so he kept trying. He's a pro golfer. He can hit things with a golf ball if he tries enough times. And he did. He whacked the hawk, who lay bleeding from the nostrils. The hawk, doing nothing but what nature commands, is martyred for a golf instructional video! Fuck golf! Say it three times fast.