It was 0420 and I’d already killed a cat. Two minutes later a rabbit copped it and it seemed at that time of the morning Hampshire was like the Serengeti. Actually I think the cat jumped. It had that “I’ve no regrets” look in its eye. Dignitas seemingly hasn’t reached the feline species yet. The rabbit was stupid. When you make a run for it, keep going! Never turn back. There’s a lesson there.
I was on my way to London’s Gatwick airport for a business meeting in Holland, and forced to think about animals, it occurred to me how astute cows had been. You see if our goal as individuals is to ensure the survival of the species, then they’ve got it cracked. Cunningly they’ve made themselves indispensable to man. In short we eat ‘em, and they are nice! We always will. A great marketing strategy from a misunderstood animal. Except by Indians, who literally worship them.
And you can extend that survival of the species theory to those of us who have children. Well sorry but we are now redundant. “Spent” if you will. If we were Salmon we’d develop a hooked beak, a hunched back, and be swimming up the river of our birth to be caught by a grizzly bear, but failing that, to spend the final hours with our mates drowning in it. Which is exactly how I plan to go.
So a lot of animals must be feeling a little threatened right now. Not because they are going to be eaten, but because they are not. Take your average Tapir for example. Must be shitting it. Neither tasty nor wearable. With a big nose.
Anyway you can tell I was in work mode, I have sales and marketing business with several customer in the marine industry. Mach 2 boats being one of course.
At the airport I fell into line with the usual queue of primer grey passengers who had that the same look in their eye that the cat had. Christ I’m glad I’m not part of that anymore. I was reflecting that now being in charge of my own destiny was really what I’d always wanted when I err.. fell asleep. But 45 minutes later it was time to land and I awoke in the middle of an erotic dream convinced that I’d mumbled “err Sorry” out loud.
It was a nice day, and I write this in the evening sitting in an Amsterdam airport bar where I’ve just identified a Dutch Bogan! He is fat with a beer bottle on his T shirt and a slogan underneath. The actual translation didn’t matter but what it really said was “I haven’t had sex for a year”.
I do think when people get past a certain size we should just simply burn them as energy, but then I once believed in castration at thirty and euthanasia at forty. That’d fuck the masters trophy up eh?
So its time to board the aircraft in a place in time where catching a train is now more exciting that a plane, and where I’ve just finished chatting to a girl on-line who jacked it all in and is now travelling the far east, where stopping and thinking about what you really want to do in life means that sometimes you can get it right. Or to put it anothern way, in a dog eat dog world it really can pay to be a cat… Sometimes.
