last evening i went out to do my laundry in the garage only to discover a dead lizard on the floor. i was immediately struck by the obvious creulty to this poor deceased reptile being left to lie ignonimously on the cold ground. resolving to do something about it, i put my clothes in the washer and promptly forgot.
several hours later while going out to transfer the 2nd load to the dryer, i remembered the lizard. upon opening the door to the garage i startled a raccoon at the water bowl. closer inspection revealed the lizard in the water bowl. his neck was folded down upon his stomach as though someone were using him to wrap a very small present secreted in his adam’s apple. this, it occurred to me, was even worse than the previous situation in which i had done nothing.
unfortunately i got distracted by the adorable pointy chin of fuck-face as i hand fed him kitty treats (defying all logic–flavored chicken & cheese in the shape of a mouse.)
it’s now much later that i remember the lizard at all. and at this point–what is the point? karmically speaking i’ve probably already regressed into the negative for my consistant avoidal of the (disgusting) situation. most likely the lizard will get to come back as a bird or something, whereas i will be lucky to attain lizard status myself.
cats are dangerous beasts that would kill humans if they (cats) were large enough.
that’s my piece and i’ve said it.
Michele, as far as the lizard goes, you’ve done nothing wrong. Throwing it in the garbage to be buried in a landfill, never to decompose, would have been much worse than leaving the tasty little treat out for a raccoon to eat. Think about it, by doing nothing, you’ve helped another animal find a meal and survive another day. Remember, raccoons like to rinse thier food in water before eating, which explains the unlikely location of the lizard. By doing nothing you do so much for those creatures around you, remember that the next time vultures pick at your eyes…
… So is one of your cats named fuck-face?
It sounded at bit like you were hand-feeding kitty treats to a raccoon, which I must point out puts you at a heightened risk for Rabies.
Then I thought, maybe fuck-face is the cat. (I had experienced similar confusion with your previous ‘coon story in which a cat called Fats Waller, I believe, was mentioned).
fuck-face is a cat. his name is fuk-o. well, actually it’s garfunkel. his brother’s name is simon. well except for how it’s sammy now because we already had another simeon living here. and fuk-o, i just call fuck-face because he is so cute. and also such a pissing fucker.
p.s. which is not to say that i have not handfed raccoons before. because i have.