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I AM NOT a violent person. I have never struck anyone, or hurt anyone physically in any way. I can’t even kill bugs, except when I am so compelled in order to save my own life —like when a bee is harassing me and I’m allergic to bees so I find a telephone book and smash it down on top of the pathetic creature. Then I cry and feel shitty about it for like half an hour. So I was shocked to read in the Wall Street Journal that by letting my adorable cat go outdoors I am actually complicit in the murder of birds and mice and possibly little froggies, and am actually messing with the tapestry of life. Apparently, “life on Earth is a complex tapestry in which each species represents a single thread. Outdoor cats threaten that tapestry.” Who knew?
Just yesterday Lurch gifted me with a dead chipmunk. He left it right next to the hot tub so I’d be sure to see it. I was bereft. I wasn’t sure whether the deceased was Chip or Dale since they look so alike, at least from a distance, but he was certainly adorable, laid out nicely as if an undertaker had prepared the body. His little eyes were open. I was sick about it, but what’s a mother to do? The cat wants out and I’m surely not going to keep him imprisoned in my house for his whole life, even if he does have eight more, or who knows, this might be his ninth. So I remain an accomplice; sue me.
Pete Marra, the author of “Cat Wars: The Devastating Consequences of a Cuddly Killer,” writes that cats kill birds and we need birds, so his solution is “the targeted killing of felines.” That’s just dumb; what about the damn tapestry? It would be missing the cat thread, which doesn’t seem any better than a missing bird thread if you ask me. At least cats don’t poop on your car’s windshield while you’re driving, which is really annoying and possibly dangerous.
— Andrea Rouda
Andrea Rouda blogs at The Daily Droid.
