Le Sequoit

If Looks Could Kill it Would Have Been Us Instead of Him

                                               Bungalow Bill     by Lennon and McCartney

Stopped on the way home to walk nine holes, as it was a gorgeous, sunny 80° and I got done at a normal, human time of 4:45 for a change. There’s a place in western Kenosha County called the Brighton Dale Links. It’s a championship sized, 45 hole wonder in the middle of nowhere where you can walk on as a single and play any of 5 challenging nines at five o’clock on a pretty Monday for $14.00.

In fact, it’s part of a park and adjacent to a very large prairie/marsh preserve where if you like you can take your expensive bird scope out to stands and watch birds of all kinds. “There’s one taking off over there,” and “There’s one about to land over there,” and “There’s a few thousand over there,” and I guess you’d have to give a hoot.

Needless to say, or perhaps it needs saying, some of these birds prefer the golf course. Hundreds of geese but also big wading things and little scurrying things and so forth shared the pleasantry of my march, very cool and I didn’t give a damn what they’re called. As well I saw dozens and dozens of squirrels and chipmunks, one red fox, and two deer; all this in an hour and a half (power golf, the stepper and glider machines are paying off).

But there’s one thing I didn’t see, a “feral” cat.

Forget the War and the Pope and Terri What’s-her-name, now cheeseheads are up in arms over Fluffy. I mean, there are death threats going back and forth over the Conservation Committee (people who sell guns and deer urine) deciding or undeciding to call “free range” kitty cats unprotected or protected or something, it’s all very complicated. The gist is that if a cat didn’t have a collar, it would be fair game.

If they pass this and the concealed carry law and lower the hunting age to ten then we have the scenario of a ten year old walking down the street, spying a collarless cat, pulling out a 9 mm and blasting Tabby to kingdom come, thus qualifying for initiation into the NRA.

I suppose we have to do something about all these cats, recent studies estimate that there are somewhere between 5 and around 2 million of Garfield’s vicious little cousins running around Ouisconsin, though the geese really didn’t seemed too stressed about it. The ASPCA wants to trap, neuter, and release them; this seems like a pretty big job to me.

It’s a mission, but something bothers me about people who get up in the morning a little too enthusiastic about neutering, the same queasiness I get about those who just can’t wait to have everyone’s urine collected.

The most needed change is that of attitude, all parties agree. Get your pet fixed and keep it inside. Well, here’s a better attitude shift for you.

Pet ownership is slavery. People should quit imprisoning animals. People should quit mutilating animals. People should quit fiddling around with animals and try to figure out how to get along with human beings. People should quit feeding 80 pound dogs and start feeding 60 pound Africans.

Cats don’t belong in the Wisconsin woods and they don’t belong in Wisconsin homes, but they certainly don’t deserve to be the latest plaything in Elmer Fudd’s sights.

Leave them alone. Give them a chance to adapt and find a spot in the food chain. It’s better than the imprisoned, clawless, fat and lazy, mutilated and hormonally altered existence the ASPCA recommends.

Free the cats! (and Toto, too!)

posted by sequoit @ 10:55 PM