Koko: This has nothing to do with movies, but every now and then real life interrupts our adolescent, liberal arts fantasy, so I'm posting on it anyway. My two rabbits are sick, maybe dangerously so. Two years ago I had no rodent companions. One year ago, I sat beside my furry darling and caressed him. There I am, Curious-George-Passed-Out-On-Ether shirt and all, petting a very prostrate rabbit. Now he's infected with whatever causes my younger rabbit to sneeze uncontrollably, and I think back to last year, when I wore my insolent T-shirt, and I feel guilty for wishing that I hadn't brought home the offending bun, even though I care for her and know that this mess isn't her fault. The reflex is something I can't control; it comes from some dark ancestral impulse to protect and blame, and I feel awful for succumbing to it. You may think I'm being stupid or sentimental--I'm not--but I consider him a member of my family, as deserving of concern and affection as any parent, sibling, or spouse. If you want to tell me to get over it, consider how you would feel if your brother or sister, husband or wife, mother or daughter, suddenly got cancer. No big deal, right? Get over it? Animals are aware enough. They feel joy, they get depressed, they have a sense of humor. Treat them with the same respect you would any sentient being. Worry when they get sick. Share their blues. Goddamn it, why are living things so frail? At this moment, tonight, I agree with the Marquis de Sade. I hate nature, that cruel and indifferent whore. Fuck her.Sunday, March 23, 2008
Sick Rabbit Blues (Interlude)
Koko: This has nothing to do with movies, but every now and then real life interrupts our adolescent, liberal arts fantasy, so I'm posting on it anyway. My two rabbits are sick, maybe dangerously so. Two years ago I had no rodent companions. One year ago, I sat beside my furry darling and caressed him. There I am, Curious-George-Passed-Out-On-Ether shirt and all, petting a very prostrate rabbit. Now he's infected with whatever causes my younger rabbit to sneeze uncontrollably, and I think back to last year, when I wore my insolent T-shirt, and I feel guilty for wishing that I hadn't brought home the offending bun, even though I care for her and know that this mess isn't her fault. The reflex is something I can't control; it comes from some dark ancestral impulse to protect and blame, and I feel awful for succumbing to it. You may think I'm being stupid or sentimental--I'm not--but I consider him a member of my family, as deserving of concern and affection as any parent, sibling, or spouse. If you want to tell me to get over it, consider how you would feel if your brother or sister, husband or wife, mother or daughter, suddenly got cancer. No big deal, right? Get over it? Animals are aware enough. They feel joy, they get depressed, they have a sense of humor. Treat them with the same respect you would any sentient being. Worry when they get sick. Share their blues. Goddamn it, why are living things so frail? At this moment, tonight, I agree with the Marquis de Sade. I hate nature, that cruel and indifferent whore. Fuck her.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Hey Nick.
I'm sorry about your rabbits. Last year my friend's two rabbits Dostoevsky and Elvis had a really bad sneezing bout and turned out they both had a respiratory infection and one had given it to the other one. [There's a quick way to tell - if they have a runny nose then it's likely to be an infection, if not then it's probably just an allergy.] They both got better when they got antibiotics but you have to make sure their front paws are disinfected or they keep reinfecting themselves when they groom.
Anyway... I'm no rabbit expert - unfortunately - but I just remembered this episode when reading your post. And your rabbit looks so cute in that pic. Like a big fat slug. Hope he gets better.
Love Maxine
Nick,
Ass-Headed Bottom here. Terribly sorry to hear about your rabbits. I often have "I don't have any domesticated animals" blues, but I guess I don't miss the "I have a sick animal" blues. I used to try so hard to keep fish alive. I named them all, fed them frozen bloodworms and beefheart, set up a quarantine tank for the sick ones (only one swordtail ever came back), and euthanized them with ice when their ich or finrot or (horrors!) dropsy got so terrible I couldn't bear for them to suffer anymore/look at them anymore. But fish are nothin'-- two cardiac chambers only, scales not fuzz, fins not floppy paws--losing cute animals triggers a much more serious case of the blues... So permit me to cross my fingers (that's as far as I permit myself to go religiously) for your bunnies, and in general godspeed...
And let's get a drink sometime? Or a sandwich.
Post a Comment