ANIMAL LOVER

I like animals of all kinds but I am not what you would call an ‘animal lover’. When I was a kid I had warm and fuzzy pets like two snails named Sydney and Tyrone, an occasional carnival goldfish, and a green baby aquatic turtle named after my favorite Jane Fonda movie, ‘Salmonella’. I had a couple of dogs over my life but in both cases, after getting to know me, they always seemed to want to run away from my underground electric fence; – so much for that ‘man’s best friend’ palaver.

Aside from a milieu of stray mangy cats over the years, I have preferred mostly noiseless pets so that when they expire, I can use them to flavor soup. I know REAL animal lovers would never ever, dare think about the last sentence much less put it in print, so that is how I am sure I am not one of your ‘ilk’. Now that does not mean I go out of my way to torture animals or avoid petting them. On the contrary on more than one occasion I have fantasized about having a pair of ferrets or maybe mink on the collar of my favorite ‘Mac Daddy’ coat, to go with my pointy-toed alligator boots.

Truly though, I am more of a ‘gatherer’ than a hunter. I am not against hunting warm-blooded food in a cold-blooded way for sport however. That’s why several times a week, I get lost in the local warehouse ‘fight’ club, searching for hot appetizers to sample. Yes, you’ve not seen true animal behavior, until you’ve witnessed first-hand, the white-knuckled pursuit of freebie hand-outs, while beating back legions of gaunt yet ravenous senior-geezers.

As a kid I tried to shoot squirrels but my camera jammed and I missed every time. As a teen in Yorkshire we would hunt for rabbit and pheasant but it was with a Ford Fiesta, not with a gun. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a plate of ‘Ye Olde’ English, skid-mark fiesta stew. Hmmm, I guess if I’m willing to eat road-kill, I must actually be an ‘animal lover’ after all? More likely though, I’m just a hillbilly gourmet, who just happens to live in mainstream Missouri!

** Afterword **

Hey speaking of ‘animals’, I sadly must return my own ‘daughter-unit’ to her college cage back in San Antonio this coming week. So being the charitable yet increasingly lazy, ‘big blog-dog‘ for the Monologues, I have arranged a guest-blogger for your light-hearted yet strangely hard-headed reading pleasure next week. Yes, I have asked my ‘liver-spotted’ and dearest mentor / landscaper (code-named ‘RAKER’) to fill-in during my absence.

If this guy could speak English he would have his own blog, but fortunately for you he learned to write highly elegant ransom notes while in a Cuban prison. The rehabilitation (as well as his victims) have paid off handsomely, so he now works cheap and I did not have to pay his normal 2.99 pesos per minute phone rate for ‘stimulating’ blog conversation. Please be on your best behavior for my ‘bloggy-guest’, because he surely won’t be on his. Don’t use too many ‘big and small’ words in your comments, because ‘Raker’ is highly sensitive about his enormous waistline and teensy tiny ‘pin head’. Consider yourself warned and now Deputized. I will see you in a week. – W.C.C.