Loving Wildlife to Death

Wildlife. Generally speaking we love it. And, we often love it to its own doom.

On BYU campus there is a herd of deer, and a pride of feral cats. They run rampant. The cats are generally speaking pretty schizo, but the deer are apathetic. The deer don't seem to care about people because they've been lulled into a dependency cycle.

At National Parks there are signs that advise people not to feed the wildlife, not to get too close to the wildlife, and in general be smart. Why? Well, if animals become too accustomed to people the begin to lose their ability to be wild. They let their guards down and become something in between domesticated and wild. What do Park Rangers do when a fox, bear, or deer gets a little too friendly around people? They shoot it.

However, because BYU is a religious institution, some tend to think all that roams on the campus is instantly Edenized. By that I mean, if it hops, crawls, quacks, trots, or slithers, it can do no harm, and it should be treated like a pet. BYU campus, for the record is nothing like Eden (You can take that to the bank). So my brother and I have devised a plan to make the feral animals wild once again. They need to fear man.

There have been many times my brother and I have come across the deer on our way to the gym, walking down the street in the early morning, or, on occasion in broad day light in between classes. It didn't matter how close my brother or I got to them, they didn't flinch. Well, we had to do something. It started with barking and chasing. Well, the deer reacted, but only to scamper some twenty feet away. So we continued to give chase, hooting and hollering and scattering sticks...but the effect was minimal. So my brother came up with a suggestion. 

You all are probably plenty familiar with ping pong paddles. Well, he figured he could easily get close to them and give them a smack on the behind. I assented that it was a good idea, but I suggested something more comedic. We could sedate the deer, then strap stuffed animal monkeys or elves on their back for the holidays. Or, we could even use battery-powered Christmas lights for their antlers. 

Needless to say, the ideas were brilliant. Expect to see a deer resembling rudolph, with a small stuffed gnome riding on its back sometime soon.

Mystery of the missing forks

After coming home from church, I was happy with the prospect of eating. I was going to reheat the pasta I brought home last night from a local Italian restaurant. And, I successfully reheated it, and even offered some to my brother. However, when we sat down to eat it, we realized something horrifically disturbing had occurred. We had only one fork. 

I checked the sink for dirty dishes. There were only 2, and no fork. I checked the drying rack. There were only spoons and knives. I checked the silverware drawer. Again, only spoons and knives. I checked the random kitchen utensil drawer. No forks. We had no forks. 

No hope. 

So, I ate my meal with a spoon (begrudgingly might I add). Oh, and to make things worse, the fork we were left with was a midget-sized one. Yeah, a shrimp fork. My brother used it, with tears pouring down his face.

I honestly do not know what happened to our forks, but I should have seen this coming. About a month ago we lost all but one of our big forks, and just today we lost all but one of the shrimp forks. But, I do have some theories as to how this has happened:

1. First and foremost I will blame the trash collectors, who have not only refused to take our trash, but now have absconded with our forks (Probably so they can do some weird trashman mystic rituals).

2. We have a clever criminal who has a moderately refined taste for IKEA silverware, and particularly forks. He could be Swedish, given that IKEA is a Swedish company, or he could be Chinese, because all of IKEA's stuff is made there.

3. Our forks left us. They just could not tolerate our cooking any longer. They probably ran off to Italy so their could skewer sausages for the rest of their lives.

4. Ashton Kutcher has devised his most carefully orchestrated PUNK'd episode ever. The filming is over the course of several months. He is starting to mess with us by stealing our forks, then he'll move on to where it hurts: our house plants and pillow cases. Bastard.

5. There are gnomes that live in our house, and they are plotting to take over by creating super-powered fork thrower that they will connect to the back of their pet fox. Their leader David will ride out gloriously in the midst of a charming Christmas dinner party and all hell will break loose.

PS - If you have any ideas as to the whereabouts of our forks please contact us immediately. This is a picture of Fred the fork, last seen with this pasta dish:

Cat Lovers vs. Dog Lovers

Most people like animals. And, as pets, we treat them sometimes even better than people. Part of that is because they often times treat us with more love an affection than other humans. The other part is because we're crazy. But regardless of our addiction with furry, scaly, winged and/or shelled creatures, the easiest breakdown between mentalities is between those who prefer dogs, and those who prefer cats.

My family has a cat. Her name is Sophie. She is psychotic. But, before I tell you about how weird and skiddish she is, let me tell you why she's nice. She has fur. Soft fur. And, she can be affectionate, and can kill pests. Now let me tell you why she's not so cool. She vomits on the porch. She is paranoid and starved for attention. She only wants attention from you on her terms. She sheds fur everywhere. So, cats are not on the top of my list when I think of a new pet.

I have never had a dog. The reason for that is because my mom is allergic to them. So, growing up she let me have every other kind of pet known to man (She is also allergic to cats, but likes them better, and lets the cat have her own room in the house, and claims that cats don't need as much social contact as dogs, which may be true). So growing up I had a menagerie of animals. I had turtles, a tortoise, hamsters, mice, lizards, fish, frogs, ferrets, quails, parakeets, guinea pigs, crayfish, etc. It was pretty cool growing up. But as cool as all those pets were, they were never dogs. I always tried to goad my mom into letting us get one with comments like, "Well bulldogs are hypo-allergenic because they have short hair and don't shed as much." To which she would reply, "If we ever do get a dog it will be a poodle, but for now it's either a dog or me. Take your pick." It wasn't very fair, but that was life. And, to make me feel even more guilty, when I said, "Well when I move out, I'm getting a dog!" She would say: "So you're saying I won't be able to come visit to see my grandchildren? You'd pick a dog over me?" Those kind of tactics were obviously manipulative. 

But, fortunately her tune has changed, and she thinks she could deal with a dog for short visits, and even longer visits if she took an allergy shot. Given the fact that she visits my Great-grandmother in Indiana all the time, and she has a dog, I don't think it was ever really a problem. So, that being said, I'm a dog person.

The anti-dog people will say they smell, make messes, are easily disobedient, drool, etc. But they are still better than cats in my mind. They are loyal, affectionate, always like attention (and aren't fickle about it like cats), they can be very obedient, and can do more things than cats. How many people go on walks with cats? How many cats catch frisbees? How many cats will play tug-of-war or do judo with you? I think you see my point. But, let me remind you that I do not condemn cat lovers. Any pet is better than no pet. Even if it does hack up hair balls in the middle of the night.