Raedthinn is not overly fond of being photographed, especially when Fingers is snuggling up against him. He’s none too fond of her doing that in the first place, and being recorded allowing it to happen seems to make him miffed.
That said, so long as Fingers goes at it slowly, Raedthinn is basically too lazy to do much about it. It’s really only when she tries to curl up with him with too much enthusiasm that he gets annoyed enough to get up and leave.
I was watching some youtube videos a few days ago and it suddenly dawned on me that *all* of them pretty much started off with “changes in youtube monetization is screwing over the smaller channels, so support my patreon.”
My first thought was something along the lines of “jeez, all that begging seems a little undignified.” My second thought was “Hey! I have no remaining dignity! Maybe I should try that!”
So… what the frell. If’n ya like the Unwanted Blog, or find some value in the stuff post or the yammerings I blather, of if you just want to support some cats or make sure than not all of your money gets stolen by Antifa or other assorted SJWs, why not throw some money into a tip jar, or even subscribe for a monthly amount? Always recommended is to sign up to the APR Patreon; there you get definite monthly aerospace history goodies.
As an update to the story from a few days ago, an arrest has been made. As always, don’t enclicken if’n ya don’t want to get all depressed.
This one is rough. It features animal cruelty *and* profound human stupidity: the prime features of downright evil. It’s one of those vids that produced an *instant* negative emotional response in me, as it may others, so I’m putting it after the break. Don’t click “Continue reading” if you don’t want your day freakin’ ruined, you heart broken, your gut wrenched, your remaining shreds of your former faith in humanity stripped away by the sounds in the last second of the video.
When you think of the sort of pet that people can be truly emotionally attached to, chances are *really* good you’ll think of either “cat” or “dog.” Any species other than those two, at least in the US, will either be far fewer in number or far less likely to be something you really bond with. A goldfish, after all, is more likely to be something more of a decoration than an entity you empathize with.
Me, I’ve had cats, dogs, ferrets. Bonded with all, mourned those who’ve died or left. I also had some Triops, some big brine shrimp sorta prehistoric monster critters; when they died, it was a disappointment, but not mournful. I’ve never had pet bunnies or sheep, but I’ve met such critters. Cute enough, but… meh. No connection. Why not? Because there was “nothing behind the eyes,” one might say. And… because bunnies and sheep are quite different from humans. They do not hunt. They have no “killer instinct.” They are… different from us.
Look at the natural world: the creatures we think of as being “smart” or ‘high up on the evolutionary ladder” tend to be vicious killers. Chimpanzees? Sure, they’re cute (-ish) when they’re young, but as adults they’re 600-pound murder machines who will rip your limbs, face and nads off. Dolphins? Sure, Flipper looks cute, but they will murder other species of dolphins apparently for fun. Orcas? OK, the alternate name of “killer whale” kinds gives it away, but they’re well known to play with their food. And their food tends to cute cute, fluffy-bunny seals.
Of course, “smart” isn’t exclusively the province of predators. Elephants are well known to be quite smart, with complex emotions. But… you tick off an elephant, and they turn into *giant* murder machines. They might not eat you, but they’ll kill you, and not purely for defense. They will attack other creatures simply because they’re ticked off.
So… being killers seems to correlate with making good pets… and with making them understandable. Of course it’s not a 100% match; go head and snuggle up with a shark if you want, won’t get you anywhere.
Two years ago, Bruce the cat fell into my possession via the simple process of walking up to me at the post office and yelling at me… and then stretching up to me when I reached down to pick him up. As y’all may recall, one of the first things I did with him was take him to the vet and get him checked for Horrible Diseases… and he tested positive for Feline Leukemia. The vet said that this was a death sentence, with a lifespan to be measured in a handful of increasingly painful and unpleasant months, and suggested that the best thing would be to put him down promptly. Because I’m a sucker for a hard luck cat, I instead opted to give him his vaccinations anyway and to give him the best life I could for a few months until things got bad, and then make the hard decision.
This is him as of a week or two ago:
There is, it seems, a narrow window when a cat can show positive for a recently acquired case of leukemia, and yet the virus can be cleared out of the cats system via vaccination. I would imagine it’s something like rabies: an essentially 100% fatal virus that you can be virtually 100% “cured” of if you get vaccinated against soon enough after infection. Bruce, it seems, got *real* lucky. Kicked out of his apartment, living on the streets next to speeding cars, infected with a fatal virus, he yelled at just the right soft-hearted schmuck at just the right moment and now he’s living in the lap of luxury.
None of *MY* critters can do this…