I have just begun to hear about Gabriela Cowperthwaite’s documentary Blackfish, which centers on the Orca, Tilikum, a performer at SeaWorld, but apparently has much to say about SeaWorld’s Orca programs in general. SeaWorld has responded pre-screening and the film-maker’s response to the response can be found here:
This week, my good friends, Sue and Emma, lost their beloved Lucy. I am cross-posting here what Sue said on her facebook page in honor of one of the world’s great dogs. Sue writes:
We said goodbye to Lucy this morning.
After giving into pressure from a persistent 6-year-old Emma, we adopted Lucy from Second Chance. She’d had a rough start in life but quickly fit into our household of cats, a snake, pet rats, and chickens. She was a loyal protector against door-to-door solicitors and bad cats who sometimes made life difficult for our indoor-outdoor cat, Maggie (she would hear a catfight in the middle of the night, beg to be let out, bark and chase away the mean cat, and then walk beside Maggie and escort her safely home). Lucy loved running with me on the Greenway, where she also chased Emma on her bicycle, then trotted happily behind her when she caught up.
Lucy loved her food, especially carrots (“orange bone”), and could be annoyingly underfoot when we were cutting them up for salads. She could hear us from the other end of the house when we would open the silverware drawer as quietly as possible to retrieve the carrot peeler. We would peel the carrot slowly and—we thought—silently, but we would turn around and see a smiling dog, waiting patiently for her treat.
She adored us completely, and we loved her equally. Life will never be the same without our good black dog, but we are glad that she is at peace.
Kater Cheek sent me today’s post about a long ago encounter that ends in ice cream.
Kater has also just published the first book in a new series. It’s called ALTERNATE SUSAN and it’s set in an alternate version of Tempe, Arizona.
It has two animals in it. One is a talking lizard, the other is a cat. Check it out!
When I was a kid, my family liked to go camping. More to the point, my father liked being in the woods and hiking, my mom liked not spending a lot of money on vacations, and the children liked being barefoot and feral in national parks.
One year, we went on a group camping trip with my aunt and her four children. I think in addition to the eight of us, there were several other children who were the children of friends, or cousins, or maybe strays picked up (I wasn’t quite sure). I think there were at least a dozen of us, between the ages of diaper and almost-too-cool-to-hang-out.
We were camping near the south rim of the Grand Canyon, and we’d seen the forest ranger talks about the abundant natural wildlife, but so far all anyone had seen were ground squirrels and the occasional hawk or bluejay. My aunt said she was sure there were deer around there. Perhaps in an effort to motivate the less-feral of my cousins, she promised to buy ice cream for whichever child was first to spot a deer.
The next day, I was digging in the dirt with a stick when I looked up and saw some of my cousins and siblings gathering and whispering in excited voices. I tried to figure out what they were looking at, but they all seemed to be looking at me. My cousins and siblings and the other kids had begun to clasp hands and form a huge ring with me in the middle. I asked my sister what was going on, and she shushed me, then gestured I should turn around.
Maybe it says something about our family dynamics that I assumed my sister was playing some well-orchestrated joke on me. If I were to turn around, someone would surely throw a mud pie in my face, or hit me with a water balloon.
Sure enough, a second later, an enormous bully hit me hard from behind, and I went sprawling, my head jarred and my palms skinned. All the kids dispersed. I picked myself up and cried, partly from the pain, but mostly from the injustice of it. I immediately went to my mom to report this abuse and demand that the bully be found and punished.
My mom went to the kids to find out who had pushed me down. Their story would have been unbelievable if it hadn’t been corroborated by all the rest of the children. They had spotted a deer. It had been behind me the whole time. They formed a circle to keep the deer penned in, but it knocked me down and ran away. I accused them of lying, that a kid knocked me down, but their story didn’t change.
My aunt couldn’t judge which kid had seen the deer first, so she said they all got ice cream. The most important part of the story is that I got ice cream too, because being knocked over by a deer was judged close enough.