Sorry for the lack of blogging yesterday. I took the
afternoon off and went with Travalon to see the movie 12 Years a Slave, which was a very good movie about a terrible true
story of a free black man who is kidnapped and made a slave. It sort of reminded
me of The Killing Fields because it
had a similar theme of someone with a lot of education having to hide his
smarts from his less intelligent oppressors. These movies always scare me,
since I am fairly well educated, and if someone less intelligent were
oppressing me, I’m not sure I’d be clever enough to convince them that I know
nothing. In other words, I’m not smart enough to act not smart.
Then Travalon and I went to David’s Jamaican Restaurant for
dinner and to solidify plans to have them cater our wedding reception. We had
asked a number of people (including readers of this blog) what they thought of
that idea, and everyone seemed good with it. We will have “boring” chicken and
fish for the people who don’t like jerk sauce. We tried their banana cake, and
that was delicious, so it’s really tempting to just get a sheet of that instead
of a fancy but barely edible cake. Then I went to choir practice while Travalon
hung out on State Street, and then we went with some choir members to the Essen
Haus for a beer. Travalon and my choir director bonded over their interest in
history and music.
The big news in my life is that Charlie the Rabbit is coming
to the end of his own life. Tuesday his back legs gave out, and I came home to
find him scooting around in circles on the living room floor. I thought he
might not survive the night, but when he did, I felt obligated to feed him by
hand and give him water from a glass, a messy proposition but I couldn’t find
an eye dropper. This morning he was still alive, so I took care of him again.
Bunnies have special soft poop they eat as well as the non-messy pellets, and I
obligingly scooped this soft poop off of Charlie’s rear end and fed it to him.
The things we do for love! He ate it with great gusto but didn’t want any
water. I am not sure how long he can survive in this state, unable to move on
his own. My coworker pointed out that I might not be able to give him enough
food and water, so he might be suffering. Maybe I should put him down, but I
would really like for him to die naturally at home. Cashmere is understandably
upset by all this and hovers around him protectively but does not actually
groom him. Maybe he just smells too bad for her taste – he does kind of stink
of pee and poop. Poor little guy has no dignity left.
Famous Hat
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