Earlier tonight/prior to sending this text message with image attachment, Das Squirrel philosophized, my word, about how he encountered two rocks sitting on a street gutter/sewer drain and how Mutha and Dad wouldn’t know the two objects existed. I replied that if they cared had they known.
Earlier today, I has the same thought/philosophy: that people who don’t know about unfortunates situations, wouldn’t care.
Tonight, after Dad greeted the boy and handed me my mail, I received a letter from the ASPCA.
Now, we, y’all and I know animals are being abused and killed. Does that mean we don’t care? Certainly not. But because most of us are TOO tired and TOO busy to care, we don’t bother and walk away.
Now, I could walk away from this letter and other non-profit organizations, which a time-traveler/fugly-ass reptilian warned me about long ago, and go on living my life as if Spike the abused bulldog never existed. I love bulldogs! Cute pebbled-rock with muscles.
Ah, Schrodinger’s cat would hiss/scratch me with disapproval. And yes, I’m vulnerable to “business as usual”. I used to donate to lots of charity but like late Rose, she couldn’t keep up either.
So, it’s up to the celebrities/wealthy to do their part by “paying their fair share” because they paid with what souls we chose to keep to ourselves.
So, what would y’all do to remove that uncomfortable feeling that Spike the abused doggy and others like him will need your help?
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