When I was ten I found a small kitten who was running in several directions behind a drug store. I examined the kitten and found that it had a large worm in its head. The worm was above its eye, eating into its brain. I tried to get it out, but could not. So I put down the kitten and watched it run in panic until it could not run any longer. The horror of that situation came across to me as a new understanding of what is possible in this world–worms eating kittens.
Can you tell a ten year old that the worm has as much of a right to exist as does the kitten?
I was ten, playing in the alley
Behind the drug store, where I found
Treasures such as magnets
In discarded radios and bottles
Of goop which I mixed in my dream
Of becoming a mad scientist,
Hollywood style.
There also I found a kitten
Who was running as if from some demon;
On close look I found a worm
In its head , burrowed just above its eye,
Digging into its brain.
I tried to pull the worm out,
But could not. I placed the kitten back
Into its tarantella; I sadly watched,
Noting that this is what the world
Includes.
No it doesn’t, you cared for the cat, a species domesticated and familiar to man, with high intelligence and the ability to recognize humans as caregivers and friends.
The work gas a very limited intelligence, one AI programs long ago surpassed, and a stupid limited lifespan. It is right to tru to help any creature seeking your protection, tight or wrong. Doesnt mean you disregard justice, but in that initial terror you shoukd try to protect even the guilty if you can with reasonable, non-lethal response.
So much so for a scared kitten and a worm. We dont live in startrek, it doesnt have a right to exist, but your memory of it after all these decades suggest the kitten was indeed worth more.
Unfortunately, you likely killed the cat by yanking on the worm, it likely was hooked or intangled. This being said, I doubt it would of lived very long anyway, so at least it died with someone showing it attention. They are like small children, nothing mammal that young wants to die alone. All our young are similar, they cry for attention, even in the end. I dont know if its better when they stop crying, and they are still breathing, before they go. Ive had neughborhood cats go both ways, we get alot of diseased strays abandoned by their STD ridden mothers here, Ive had them die cuddling my feet in a box, being held over the shoulder, in my lap. Some survive, many don’t. That white one I used to use as a avatar on my head survived. Its with a different hoysehold, but its siblings died by my feet, refusing to drink catmilk. I guess stinkyfeet arent a substitute for mom. That cat was found later on, before being eventually abandoned… its mom didnt reject it kike the ithers as fast… damn whorecat half blind always laying on rooftops and fucking the night way, keeping the neighborhood awake. See little crusted eye kittens in the alley crying after she abandons them.
Sure kittens are cute and the vision of their skulls being penetrated by insects, ghastly.
But how much more, homeless families , thousands of them living in dark alleyways, children holding unto a sick mother’s body for warmth, a body so withered by lack of sustenance that is merely a shadow of a skeleton.
What is a kitten ,next to a pitiful teary eyed child, not ever yet comprehending how it got there, why, and why the constant pain?
How many of these mothers, call their own- kitten,-being their reason for their existence?
irrellus Your story is sad and moving, and it shadows those doomed humans, who are supposed to have evolved beyond the realm of the animal kingdom. Knowing your focus different, but was compelled to move it up a notch.
I think that on further consideration, that young Ierrellus showed a lack of patriotic class consciousness, and should of done more to help out the homeless families in the alley, instead of this infected cat. He was clearly a force for borgoise oppression, and thus Anti-Union, Anti-Labor by a extension of syllogistic expectations.
Down with the oppressors!
Thanks for the heads up Jerkey.
What strange readings into a simple poem. At ten, I had no politics. I’ve always been a liberal–pro union, pro labor; but at ten I had no such considerations. I was unaware of the general suffering in the world at large. All I was at that point the poem describes was a street urchin who found a kitten in distress. There were no homeless families in the alley, only a sick cat. You totally misinterpret the poem, Turd. It may have described the type of empathy that could later translate into caring for those humans who suffer. Our family was always poor, but we had love for each other and caring for those who were even less fortunate than we were. Of course, even at ten, I would have seen that a suffering baby is more deserving of help than a suffering cat.