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Musing With A BB Gun
One day I might look out and see four apparently healthy dogs sniffing around the house and think what a shame what a marvel the existence of these wild inner-city animals, if only they had somebody who loved them, and the next day I've chosen sides (to hell with Love or the lack of it) all uppity about my own personal losses and predators be damned I strategically plan a revenge which is mostly just me with a bb gun shooting at not exactly helpless animals. The sound they make when hit is "yelp." When I feel the need to or can justify the protection of Shorty these yelps are nothing but a noise to me. Other times these yelps make me feel--egocentric as it sounds--as if I've been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, the very idea of which implies so much affluence of choice as to make me tend towards a guilt over the abuse of my power. Power. Ha. Run away doggy, run away.