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Bliss

 

This is my pet mouse, Sixpence. The date stamp says it was 2002. Uncle B sent me flowers, and I put a carnation in her cage.

Check it out. She’s not nibbling it; she hasn’t mistaken it for food. She’s spreading the petals apart, sticking her head in as far as it will go and breathing in the scent.

She’s loving it.

It was an extraordinary thing. I put the flower in there thinking they’d eat it (she had a roommate who wasn’t interested at all) or make a nest out of it or do some other mousey thing with it. I didn’t expect to conduct an experiment on the æsthetic sensibilities of mice (you know I’m an intellectual because I stuck the ‘a’ and the ‘e’ together).

What made me think of it, we had a long drive today in beautiful, sunny weather. The lambs in the field, born in a cold and wet season, were blissing out in the sun, about the first warm sun they’ve ever felt. So were many of their mothers.

And my chickens. And the cat. It’s hard to watch so much sun worship and put store in the notion that animals are heat-seeking machines that would respond equally to the sun or a steam radiator.

Welp, I can’t walk too far down this road. I’ll end up a Jain, I swear.
 

 

 

May 1, 2013 — 10:40 pm
Comments: 17