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I watched a program last night on MSNBC about the recent and highly publicized animal attacks on Timothy Treadwell and Roy Horn. The hostess, Lisa Ling (am I the only one who remembers her from Channel One?), announced that America has a crisis going on with big cats. People buy--BUY--them and they get big and the owners don't want them anymore, or they want them but the neighbors are afraid to get eaten, or the owners get eaten....sounds to me that it's not a 'big cat crisis.' It's a big dumbass crisis. Why the hell would you purchase a WILD ANIMAL--one that will probably grow to outweigh you by a formidable amount and could kill you with a playful swat of the paw--and try to make it a pet? Come on, people! Engage your brains and have some respect. I like big cats. I love them. I hate that now I will probably never see Siegfried and Roy perform with those awesome beasts. But they're wild. They're instinctual predators. A good rule of thumb for any of you re-re's out there--if it can't sleep in your bed with you (with a few exceptions), it's probably not meant to be a pet.
design by fergie
Bits of fire in the sky push me east back home. I used to live in flames
but it's hard on the wings. Choke me. Smoke me. Scare me back. You try
but you just can't. I peel the layers in my spare time, and you're easy
to see through. I can fly, I've discovered on my own. I may be the lesser
butterfly but my wings are just as strong. Who are you to tell me to find
a place to land? I may be the lesser butterfly but baby watch me glide.
