Age of the Weenie
In this, the Age of the Weenie, when men who should be giants not only nurture their own petty fears but those of others, I take heart in the courage of tiny creatures. I suppose with this post I am opening my self to an argument over the difference between courage and stupidity but so be it. I think fear is stupid. I am so sick of the hysteria regarding the war on terror. As far as I'm concerned the only terror is created by our own government. But I don't feel like a political rant quite this early. I want to tell a happy stories of bravery.
So, I ws wandering through the kitchen this morning on my way to making a luscious cup of steaming biochemical stimulation when I saw a chipmunk on the back porch...her face stuffed with cat food. She looked at me. I looked at her. (I'm saying she is female because she has been smart enough to survive the summer). I could swear she winked (but this is before coffee and thus I was still partially in unconscious). Now, this particular chipmunk lives in a hole in the neighbors yard where there are remnants of an old retaining wall. She has storehouse under the neighbors porch which serves a vantage point for feline tauntings. She has also been brave enough to come into my house through the front door. I say brave here because my three cats, my next-door-neighbor's three cats and numerous other neighborhood felines and one skunk liberally mark the front door leaving no doubt that this is a fortress of felinity. Nevertheless, Ms. Chipmunk (she is single so far) waltzes in (ok....hops delicately in). She casually investigates the edges of the living room and hops on out again. I would nickname her Braveheart but I don't want to jinx him with an untimely end so I will dub her Captain Courageous instead.
My other little brave creature is a bat. I routinely leave the door to the back porch open so the cats can go there and see the world. We live on a hill so the porch is elevated and right above the chipmunk abode so the cats will often sit in a row with their toes curled over the edge and their heads poking through the railing watching him. Ah the bat. Yes. He/she comes at dusk and does a fly-by's....he has been in the house at least four times now. I now have a hanging barrier to prevent any upstairs shenanigans. The bat will fly around the kitchen and into the living room...around the living room and into the kitchen...in a nice crazy 8 pattern. The cats line up in the narrow hallway between the two rooms. The door makes a slight hazard. The bat must swoop below the jamb. As you can imagine, this is delightful for the spectators. They will jump, or more accurately, fling their bodies, at the bat. This usually last about five minutes then the bat flies back out the door. Kitties race out too and take up positions at the railing again. The bat is now dubbed Ace. I wish him/her many happy returns.
*sigh* Summer is almost over but the age of the weenie is not. Take heart brave souls. We must be steadfast in our courage and continue to promote reason over hysteria!!
So, I ws wandering through the kitchen this morning on my way to making a luscious cup of steaming biochemical stimulation when I saw a chipmunk on the back porch...her face stuffed with cat food. She looked at me. I looked at her. (I'm saying she is female because she has been smart enough to survive the summer). I could swear she winked (but this is before coffee and thus I was still partially in unconscious). Now, this particular chipmunk lives in a hole in the neighbors yard where there are remnants of an old retaining wall. She has storehouse under the neighbors porch which serves a vantage point for feline tauntings. She has also been brave enough to come into my house through the front door. I say brave here because my three cats, my next-door-neighbor's three cats and numerous other neighborhood felines and one skunk liberally mark the front door leaving no doubt that this is a fortress of felinity. Nevertheless, Ms. Chipmunk (she is single so far) waltzes in (ok....hops delicately in). She casually investigates the edges of the living room and hops on out again. I would nickname her Braveheart but I don't want to jinx him with an untimely end so I will dub her Captain Courageous instead.
My other little brave creature is a bat. I routinely leave the door to the back porch open so the cats can go there and see the world. We live on a hill so the porch is elevated and right above the chipmunk abode so the cats will often sit in a row with their toes curled over the edge and their heads poking through the railing watching him. Ah the bat. Yes. He/she comes at dusk and does a fly-by's....he has been in the house at least four times now. I now have a hanging barrier to prevent any upstairs shenanigans. The bat will fly around the kitchen and into the living room...around the living room and into the kitchen...in a nice crazy 8 pattern. The cats line up in the narrow hallway between the two rooms. The door makes a slight hazard. The bat must swoop below the jamb. As you can imagine, this is delightful for the spectators. They will jump, or more accurately, fling their bodies, at the bat. This usually last about five minutes then the bat flies back out the door. Kitties race out too and take up positions at the railing again. The bat is now dubbed Ace. I wish him/her many happy returns.
*sigh* Summer is almost over but the age of the weenie is not. Take heart brave souls. We must be steadfast in our courage and continue to promote reason over hysteria!!
posted by Sulphur Siren at 04:54
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