“I know what I send the Elders doesn’t always provide a peal of verisimilitude,” he said.
“You mean a ‘ring of truth’”?
“That’s what I said, my son.” His condescension arose from his appearance, no doubt. He had chosen to appear as a high-ranking Catholic clergyman. I wasn’t quite sure of his rank, not being of that faith, but if expense of attire correlates accurately with title, he was up there.
“Pets, the poor, and the elderly,” I said, returning to his original theme.
“Yes, they are amazed, but somehow pleased, when I relate how much care and love your species lavishes on personal pets.”
Just then, as if to prove the point, the latest addition to our family, a young stray dog that my wife had rescued from under an abandoned church building, trotted into the room. She took one look at C.W. whined, backed off, and fled the room.
“I think that is some 20 or so strays that you have rescued over the years,” he said.
“At least,” I said.
“Of course the Elders are not as sharply honed about your interspecies sporting habits.”
“I’m not as ‘keen’ about them myself,” I said. “I gave up hunting when my military career ended.”
“The Elders would prefer that you engage in competitive sports in which both parties knew that a game was afoot.”
“Understandable,” I said.
“Now, about the others.”
“The poor and the elderly?”
“Yes, the Elders don’t believe me when I tell them that one of your political parties would like to pitch them out amongst the Canus Lupi.”
“Well, they don’t call it ‘throwing them to the wolves.’”
“What do they call it, my son?”
“Well, uh,” I struggled. “They would call it building self-reliance.”
“And they would call sodomy a case of following too closely?” He loves this quote by William F. Buckley, Jr. and I regret relating it to him.
“So, do you have a plan?” I tried to redirect him.
“Yes, my son.” He arranged his robe. “Why don’t you simply make pets of your poor and elderly?”
|Be kind to pets, not gays. - C.W|
“Yes,” he said. “You could sell them in shops, give them silly names, teach them tricks, dress them in ridiculous outfits, and …” he blushed, “Have them ‘fixed’ when appropriate. This would be okay for pets but not full-fledged people, don’t you see?”
I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“But,” he said. “There is one thing.”
“And that is?”
“You can’t transport them on the top your cars.”
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