Last week I was watching a show on Animal Planet about the domestication of feral animals. It was quite interesting to learn how various animals (dogs, cats, fish, birds, ferrets, reptiles, insects, farm animals, and multiple other small creatures) were morphed into pets around the world through the centuries.
While watching this show there was a dull, hard thumping on my door. I couldn’t see anything through the peephole, so I carefully cracked the door open to try to see what was making all the racket. Suddenly a cat shot between my legs, followed closely by a dog and a goose, all screaming in Dollittian, “Help me! Help me!” I was taken aback to say the least. Once I’d gotten my wits about me I calmed my visitors and we started talking. Turns out they had heard all the hubbub about Haitian immigrants eating pets in Springfield, Ohio, and panicked.
They cried, “The Haitians are coming! The Haitians are coming!”
“Whoa!” I said. “We’re a long way from Ohio.”
My phone rang (my ringtone is Bob Marley’s “I Shot the Sherriff.”) They all freaked out. I said, “That’s a Bob Marley song. He wasn’t Haitian. He was Jamaican!” “Same difference!” they shrieked. “Same difference!”
“They want to eat us,” barked the dog. The cat and the goose nodded in support.
“I’m not even in season!” squawked the goose. “Me? Ow!!!” said the cat.
I told them there was no evidence of Haitians eating pets in Ohio or any other place in the United States. Still they cried out, “Gimme shelter! Gimme shelter!” “Of course I’ll give you shelter,” I said. They all let out a small sigh of relief.
I foraged in my fridge and cabinets and found food enough for them to eat. Post-feasting we all settled in. “Let me show you what’s really going on,” I said. We starting watching CNN. After an hour or so they seemed to be reassured that the reports of pets being eaten by Haitians was fake news. Then the cat purred, “What’s the FOX saying?”
I was hesitant to change channels, but I did. The FOX was saying that, while there was no hard evidence that Haitians were eating pets anywhere in the United States, there was also no hard evidence that they weren’t. “Traitor! Traitor!” they all screamed at the FOX. “You know you can’t prove a negative!”
I took charge of the remote control and switched to the Weather Channel. Bad choice. They were covering animal rescues from hurricane Francine. A first responder who looked like he could have been Haitian was helping rescue a dog from the flooded basement of a house. He passed the dog to another first responder who also looked like he could be Haitian and disappeared, presumably to take the dog to safety. The coverage showed a nearby restaurant that specialized in exotic cuisine. The first responder carried the dog in that direction. Never mind that a dozen or so rescue vehicles, including several from the ASPCA, were parked at the restaurant, mostly in idle, taking naps.
My guests were all shook up. “See! See! They’re taking our brothers and sisters to the executioners! They’re draining cats and dogs!” “And geese!” squawked the goose. “It’s farm to table skewed and skewered!”
I decided to read news stories about the alleged pet consumption to my guests. They began to understand that it was all a hoax perpetuated by T-rump, his henchman Jay Dee Rants, and other conspiracy theorists. At first my new-found friends were blinded by the light of truth but soon the scales fell from their eyes. They were royally pissed.
I switched to PBS to watch the presidential debate. Former President T-rump Former President T-rump doubled down on his baseless claims of Haitian immigrants eating pets in Springfield, Ohio. “Liar, liar! Pants on fire!” My friends bellowed. “The wannabe dictator is already is a dicktater.!” We howled like hyenas.
The dog barked, “We gotta go. We’ve got a mission to fulfill.” “We’re mad as hell and we’re not gonna take it anymore!” said the cat and the goose. “We gotta set things left lest we lose our rights and our very lives!”
With that they all thanked me for the shelter and the truth and rushed out the door. And I heard them exclaim as they faded from sight, “Vote left, vote left and keep the ship right!”
…and that’s the View from The Balcony.
Randy Weeks is a Licensed Professional Counselor, a Certified Shamanic Life Coach, an ordained minister, a singer-songwriter, an actor, and a writer. He has never knowingly eaten dogs, cats, or geese. Randy may be reached at: randallsweeks@gmail.com.
