Stacy Horn

I should have results from most of Buddy’s tests today. He has lost weight, he’s jaundiced on top of everything else, so, not good. But maybe treatable, so I’m going to try to wait to hear before panicking. He doesn’t seem to be in pain. At all. And he’s eating.

I was listening to Bing Crosby sing “It’s Been a Long, Long Time,” yesterday. Although I read that apparently he wasn’t the nicest guy in the world, I find his singing voice enormously comforting. You’d think this was a tender guy, who sang his children to sleep, but I don’t think he was that guy. (Or so I’ve read.) Still, I want to buy more Bing Crosby all of a sudden.

On the way to the vet. Everyone stops for the cute puppy, and ignores the cat in the carrier.

I’d planned to talk about religion and science. I have a million examples (endless really) of religion refusing to accept evidence right in front of their face (evolution, global warming) but fewer or science, although they certainly exist. And I wanted to talk about the Temple Foundation again, an organization that says it seeks to bring the two sides together (religion and science).

But then I woke up and Buddy had stopped eating again, and that was that for my day. He’s scheduled for an ultra-sound on Monday. Meanwhile, I gave him sub-q fluids, some Pepcid, and he just ate a little so I feel up to a brief post. To explain my absence, basically.

On my way to pick up a variety of foods to get Buddy to eat, I stopped at a church to interview a guy who works there who had rescued a pigeon who was caught in a tree in front of the church. I asked him if he felt like a hero, thinking he wouldn’t admit to something like that, but he said, “Yeah. I did.” To help a creature who is in trouble feels good, no doubt about it.

Pigeons in a city fountain.

I went out for a walk last night to see if I could catch some filming of the show White Collar, which was supposed to be happening a few blocks from where I live. But there was no filming to be had, and I made the HUGE mistake of wearing jeans and when I got home I was way over-heated.

I decided to go for a swim. The City gym I go to has a “Night Owl Swim,” from 7 to 8:30 and I’ve always been curious about what it might be like to swim in the evening. It was quite lovely. Unfortunately, they stopped the swim at 8:15, when it starts to get dark, defeating the whole purpose of a “Night Owl Swim.” I wanted to see what it was like to swim with the night sky overhead. Still, that hour had a nice feel to it. The only downside for me was, the night swimmers are very serious swimmers. No one talked to each other. I like the more social morning and afternoon swims.

I took this in the meat market, after my White Collar disappointment. That’s the High Line, and the Hudson River in the background, and I think Sex and the City shot an episode at Pastis. I think it might have been in the last episode.

I’ve been researching pigeons and I read about how the last wild passenger pigeon was killed in Ohio by a boy with a shot gun. I was all prepared to hate him and vilify him in my book (if I get to write it) but when I researched it, I didn’t get any sense that he was a bad kid. He saw a bird he’d never seen before and he asked his mother for permission to shoot it and she gave it.

This is what I don’t understand. Why was his reaction to shoot it? If I was in a similar position I might have wanted to catch it and keep it, also not a great idea, but never in a million years would I have thought, “Oh wow, a bird I’ve never seen before. I can’t wait to kill it!”

Someone close to me (don’t want to name names) used to be a hunter, and it was something I could never wrap my head around, because he’s so nice otherwise. Sweet, really. I could more easily imagine him freeing an animal from a trap and taking it to the vet to have it’s leg mended before I could see him killing anything. Last week I learned he hasn’t hunted for a while. He’d had an awakening about hunting and was now filled with guilt about all the hunting he’d done. I don’t want him to be filled with guilt, but I was enormously relieved. It never made sense to me.

I guess it must be similar to how people rationalize killing other people. They are bad (ie, pigeons are rats with wings) or some other reason why the creature’s life isn’t valuable. Or that they don’t hold on to life and want to live every bit as much as we do.

Pigeons on the building across the street. Don’t worry little guys. I’m unarmed.

” … While you were debating which chicken sandwiches were okay to eat, I just landed on Mars. Your Friend, Science.”

Everyone has been posting and tweeting that. I like it too, although not all religions want to restrict civil rights so I might change that to: Dear Bigot? Honestly, I will never ever understand why anyone would want to prevent another person from marrying the person they love. Would it be right if someone told you that you couldn’t marry your wife or husband?

I just don’t want to condemn religion so broadly, which has a kind, generous side to it (can’t answer for all religions, I’m not that educated). I mean, I could write something like:

Dear Science, While we all waited for more pictures from Mars I sang a glorious Haydn mass. My children’s children (to the infinity power) will be singing this mass. Yours always, Religion.

I took this walking back from singing that mass. Yeah, I need to work on my focusing skills.