Talk to The Animals

A murder of crows, a dule of mourning doves come together,

Black and white, joined by a

Clowder of ear-tipped cats and a pack of stray

Dogs, previously nature’s political opponents,

Enemies who put aside misplaced hate to become

Friends. Perhaps they can unite all species,

Get the mice involved, the alligators, the bees, the opossums, the

Humans. Perhaps there can be peace, they cry and coo and bark in unison.

I’m doubtful, the wise old owl says, that humans will

Join us. Each year, I watch them grow more impatient and less

Kind. They spew hateful and divisive rhetoric and I fear they’ll always be

Literalists who eschew imagination, beauty, love, and the frailty of others.

Maybe humans are just not intelligent or too stubborn, chirps a

Nightingale. I agree neighs a horse, then a mule.

Or selfish and judgmental, like I was to you, a cat says to a mouse.

Pooh! You didn't kill me, the mouse replies. But I hope we’re not being

Quixotic. Humans can be very cruel. Depraved. Meanspirited.

Remember, says a piglet, although some humans shoot us and eat us,

Some make children of us. But many abandon us, says a skittish puppy,

They own us and discard us, and I fear we will never understand them.

Unless we do the most obvious thing,

Vowed the wise old owl, hooting, pleased with himself.

What? What do we do with haters and lovers, with

Xenophobes and xenophiles, with sinners and saints, a curly lamb baas?

You, we all, do this, says the wise old owl. We free every animal in every

Zoo, and cage the humans until they finally understand.