You can eat. But not you. Or you. Or you.
It’s always a delight when friends get together and dine.
Arabeth, one of our more recent foxen, recently graced us by accepting our dinner invitation. She was shortly joined by Ophelia, one of our longtime resident opossum.
It’s wonderful (and wise) that two such different beasties commingle so easily.
You’ll notice Arabeth’s concern isn’t Ophelia, it is us.
Humans, you know…
I’ve lived among them many years. Years longer than an individual fox or opossum could. I still don’t understand them.
Given a full table, given more food than they could comfortable eat, some humans will keep others away, forcefully if need be. They won’t even offer the remains to those who are recognizably hungry.
A table so full you can’t possibly eat it all, so plentiful you have no need to store it, and you won’t share?
No wonder The Old Ones are cautious.
Say hello, you little cutie, you!
Ah, the young.
Out on their own, discovering themselves, discovering their world, making it, owning it, eating some dogfood.
Remember Ophelia? She had pups.
Every time I went to talk with her when she had pups in her pouch, camera at the ready (me, not her), she shuffled away.
Such private creatures.
Opalina is, we think, one of Ophelia’s pups due to markings.
Also her habit of starting every sentence with “Beware my piercing teeth, Two-legs.”
And such a cutie.
How are your peanuts, my darling?
Following up on last week’s table feature, this week we delve into interbeastial relationships ala Orianthe and Macon, Opossum and Raccoon, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging recipes, planning an evening of romance once they’ve had their last cappuccino and gelato.
But wait, who’s that hovering in the background? Is it…can it be… Yes, it’s Orville, donning the guise of waiter when really he’s here keeping an eye on Orianthe, his daughter, lost to the…paws…of…
Oh, heavens! A raccoon!
I mean, of all things…a raccoon.
Oh, the shame. Oh, the Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner of it.
Fortunately, prejudices and ignorance don’t abound with the Old Ones. Peace is the rule – truly, even between predator and prey. Disagree? You’ve never witnessed the selection process in full – and interbeastial relationships abound.
My prayer for humankind, that. That interbeastial relationships might abound and we, as one species among many, might prosper.
It’s Spring again. Another 365.something day tour around our own little star. Isn’t it grand? Do you take for granted your travels on Spaceship Earth? Our home isn’t stuck on some foundation with a permanent address that can be viewed on Google Maps.
No, far from it. We’re traveling. We are travelers without knowing from whence we came or where we go.
The Old Ones know this. They take nothing for granted.
Except cookies and peanuts.
From yours truly.
Opie and Opette come to dine nightly, as does Vincenzi the Fox. Gladys and her crowd come by during the day.
Most recently we’ve been guested by Verne, one of Hecate’s kits. There are two others who also come by and say hello, although usually after we’ve shut off the lights and are in bed. We hear them talking; “Pass the peanuts?” and “Is that fresh water?” and “Any more cookies?”
And we’ll see them and other Old Ones through the year and through the years. All of them come to us. We’re a house of magic. So they tell us.
We believe. Old Ones don’t lie.
Say hello to Verne, all.
Turning your back on your guests! And at the dinner table!
It may be the New Year according to at least one human calendar, The Wild doesn’t notice. Critters still must eat, Republicans and Democrats still must be hostile to each other.
One wonders how we Two-Leggers are from our non-human forebears. I mean, have you ever seen the childish behavior that gets in the way of getting things done along lawmakers and business leaders?
You have to wonder, are these really the people making the laws? Are these the people really keeping business running?
Case in point, dining.
Historically, meal time is where the most powergames occur. Not just in diplomatic and business circles, even among families.
Want to know a family’s true dynamic? Sit them around a table, see who gets to eat first, who gets to take the biggest helpings, who helps who with their food.
Want to know a nation’s dynamic? Go to a state dinner. Want to know a company’s dynamic? Go to a staff lunch or dinner.
I find such things fascinating. People spend more time figuring out the social signals than exchanging actionable information or eating.
Not so in The Wild.
You don’t want to talk to someone? Turn your back to them. Much easier and easily understood.