Once upon a time a long, long time ago...there lived a famous cowboy, named Cowboy Bob. He lived out in Texas, yes he did, and he had a big farm out there with lots of chickens, and ducks, and pigs, and cows, and turkeys, ans sheep and llamas, and goats, and chickens, and ducks, and pigs, and cows, and turkeys, ans sheep and llamas, and goats.....and chickens!
Before I begin, it has to be declared:
I was having a...day. You know the kind—the type where you work really hard to remain positive and optimistic, but you come to the point where you run out of energy to keep the the party going. You try desperately to buoy the balloon with air but finally it pops, without warning, and there isn’t a darn thing you can do about it.
Butterflies. We know and love them. The mystical winged friends we caught in jars and nets as children, our science teachers praising the awe of the metamorphosis process they endure as they wobble around uselessly as fuzzy green leaf-chompers and soon blossom into angel-like beings when released from their self-made cocoon. Undoubtedly, yes, this is the beauty of nature itself; the transformation of butterflies could be considered metaphorical, ethereal, mesmerizing.
People are weird. I’ve said it a number of times and with each passing day, I’m becoming more and more convinced of it. Have you heard the latest? A woman in Australia has rescued a spider and called it Charlotte. Yes, you read that right, she RESCUED a SPIDER!!!
After speaking with the neighbor of Billy and Sally Stevens, it seemed as though I didn’t really have a lot to go on.
Dog was hightailing it in the direction of the subdivision and all I could do was hightail it after her.
So I’m carrying on a conversation with a dog.
My name is Henry James and I’m a writer.
Today, I had the opportunity to visit a stockyard. I was given a choice to be there, and bear witness to animals that weren't given the same choice. As I sat in a warm car, traveling to the stockyard, I thought about what it would feel like to be one of the many animals I would soon encounter. What it would feel like to be in a moving vehicle, not knowing where I was going or what would happen when I got there. Hearing people talking, not knowing what they were saying; but the way they were talking, didn't feel nice.