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November 29th, 2017

11/29/2017

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I really like animals.  There are moments when I like animals more than people.  I like all animals, mine, yours, the neighbors down the street and the ones I see when I'm out taking a walk.  I like the animals at the sanctuaries, at the zoos, in the circus and on the stage.

​But that doesn't mean I want to actually own them all.  For example, while I have a respect and appreciation for snakes, I do not want one in my house.   I enjoy watching the birds around here, taking photos of them, listening to their pretty songs when I'm walking around, but I don't want to put one in a cage in my house.  The little lizards in the courtyard feel sort of like pets in a very remote sort of way.  I don't have to feed them or take them to the vet, but I like that they are there.

​I think there are some critters that just feel more pet-like.  Cats and dogs of course.  Growing up we always had an assortment of both.  We do not currently own a pet and it feels odd to not have that furry little face greeting me at the door when I walk in.  When I lived on the farm there were cows, chicken, geese, sheep and horses.  After awhile, we begin to know each other's personalities, their likes and dislikes, their quirks and charms.  Although on the farm it was never wise to get too close to any varmint that was destined to show up on the dinner table.

​I admire that majesty of the Big Cats, the enormous wisdom and gentleness of the elephants and the silliness of otters whenever we have been to a place where they are kept.  But I wouldn't want to own any of these gorgeous creatures.  I'm glad they exist and I am delighted that I was fortunate to see them close up, but I'm always ambivalent about zoos of any sort.  I enjoy seeing the animals and then I feel guilty because I'm free to walk about and they are held to a confined area regardless of how nicely created that area is.

​And now I'm going to prove myself to be a big fat liar because earlier I said that I love all animals.  That's not true.  I don't like monkeys.  I just don't.  I don't wish them any harm but I also do not care to visit them.  I cannot even begin to tell you why because I don't know why.  But no.  There used to be a television show a very long time ago about a family that had a chimpanzee as a pet that was really more of a family member.  Gave me the creeps.  There were a series of episodes on the TV show, Friends, that featured a little monkey, Marcel.  Every time it was a Marcel episode I had the heebie-jeebies and changed the channel.  I had to.  The wonderful Jane Goodall and her apes?  I admire her work tremendously but I don't care to watch it.  Coco the gorilla who could communicate through sign language?  What an amazing feat for both Coco and her trainer!  Communicating directly with another species, not guessing, but actually having dialogues impressed the socks off of me.  Still, no.  Can't go there.  It makes no sense at all and I've long since stopped trying to figure it out. I  don't have to understand it to accept it as truth.

​Weird,  I'm good with snakes, okay with bats except when they surprise me...boo!, mice are cute, and as far as I'm concerned, fish are just fine but keep those monkeys away from me.  

​Unless it's The Monkees and then it's okay.  I know all the words to all of the songs.  So for those of you keeping score it's Monkees, yes and Monkeys, no.
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    Yup, this is me. Some people said, "Sam, you should write a Blog".   "Well, there's a thought", I thought to myself. And so here it is.

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