Free Write Beginning With Giraffes
The giraffe is a very under-rated animal. No one really thinks much about him. His moment of infamy is the moment when incompetent onlookers gape with mouths wide open because of his exaggerated neck.
Come to think of it, I don't think it's very fair of humans to chain a fellow up just because of his elongated neck. There are lots of people with big noses, abnormal chin hair, less fingers than most or less toes than some, and lots of other things. We would think it is an atrocity to put them in a little barred room. Poor little giraffe.
I wonder what he thinks about in that cage of his. I'm glad he can't understand what we're saying. He'd surely think each one of us were very ignorant. I can just picture what it would sound like to him:
"Mumsy, what's that?"
"Why, dear, that's called a giraffe."
Meanwhile, our dear friend the giraffe is wondering what's so spiffy about him. He thinks he looks just like any other giraffe, except maybe his nostrils are a little farther apart than his brother's were. Most animals are much taller than us already. We most likely look like the description of humans that C.S. Lewis wrote in the second book of his Space Trilogy, Perelandra. It was something along the lines of a squat, unpleasantly ugly, overly hairy creature somewhat like a walking log. To animals we probably look strange simply because we have very little hair.
Now that I think of it, that must be awful looking to them! How disgusting we must look with our fleshy pink bodies. We look like a newborn gorilla or an oversized kangaroo embryo. They must think we're not old at all. Then we want to direct them and tell them what to do. It seems so backwards.
What about the cat? How does this whole nine lives concept work out anyway? I've certainly witnessed the death of very young cats, but they've never come back to life. I don't remember them being in nine near-death experiences either. One in particular was a little slow mentally, and had a tendency to sit in the road and hope cars didn't hit her, but she was alive for many years.
I'm glad animals put up with us the way we treat them. I have a gray cat who loves to sleep on the stairs. The stairs are relatively dark, so he blends in a little too well. I used to frequently find myself stepping on a soft, furry, violently agitated lump as I went into my basement to find ingredients for dinner or a snack. Although he's a very sadistic and bloodthirsty cat, he very infrequently attacked me in those unfortunate moments.
I've never quite understood why cats think it will please their human owners to leave the juicy and mangled remains of their furry woodland creatures by the front door. My cat likes to leave the head of the squirrel. Only the head, of course. I find it more disturbing and don't consider it a compliment.
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