Finally, an evening off together with no studying or practicing. Siam House was okay, my curry being not that great and my wife’s fried rice pretty good. Went to the library, then Kohl’s, and then Petsmart.
my wife, the uber cat lover, always has to go see the cats that are up for adoption. The first cage I see has a lovely little beige and white cat that is sitting quite still at the edge of the cage staring at me as I walk into the adoption room. The card on her cage says she is a 1 year old spayed female, adopted for $25. She is incredibly friendly, licks my finger, rubs against the cage against my hand. And she obviously has some sort of condition. Her hair is falling out in clumps, she looks drowsy, staggering while attempting to stand still. Which is odd in itself. She seems crazed for attention even though she should obviously be lying down. My heart instantly goes out to Dee Dee (her name on the card), and I find myself wishing to take her home so I can take care of her. And its almost as if she knows she needs help and knows the only way to get in a better place is to be as friendly as possible so some nice chap like myself will instantly fall in love and take her away from her cold, noisy, stinky, metal cage. Yet I know I can’t take her home. I already have 2 cats in one small apartment. Nyantaro is VERY particular about bringing other cats home, especially females like herself. Coco is a younger male, and the fact that they get along at all is really something of a miracle. So I know that if I were to bring Dee Dee home, Nyantaro would try to tear her apart. There would be growling, fighting, and no sleep for me for weeks. I tell myself somebody else will surely come along and rescue poor Dee Dee and give her the love and medical attention she needs. I still feel terrible.
I listened to the newest episode of This American Life this afternoon. It featured a story about a translator in Iraq who has to flee the country because he is so hated by other Iraqis for helping the infidels. I feel empathy for the outed translator and for the Iraqi people suffering in such a living hell. But I find myself feeling more sorry for Dee Dee than those people. Sure, I know you shouldn’t feel worse for a little animal than for an entire people who are suffering, but I just can’t seem to help it. Somehow you feel like the animal is completely helpless. There is no way that animal can get in a better position than its in unless, you, the human, step in on its behalf to make its life better. With people, sometimes it is easy to think that, as hard as it may be, they have the choice to make things better for themselves. Especially those who are poor in this country. Little Dee Dee can’t possible make a better life for herself, but that bum on the street, well, he can get a job can’t he? Again, you can never know what hardships a person has faced or what monumental disadvantages a person has which keeps him from bettering his life. Sometimes people really do need a helping hand to get into a better spot. I’m just trying to say that I find it easier to empathize with little Dee Dee than most people in worse situations than myself, and even though I know I shouldn’t quite so easily, its just the way I feel sometimes. Animals always appreciate your help. People sometimes throw it back in your face. Or waste your gift. And maybe that’s partly why I find myself wanting to help Dee Dee more than people. It’s hard to give when its not appreciated. It’s easy to give when you’re given love back.