I thought I had sufficiently responded to this post but then, as I went out for coffee, had further thoughts.
It may seem trivial, having so much feeling for a cat, but then it occurred to me to remember an episode from my own life, from some twenty or thirty years ago. I had taken in a small kitty. There was a Cat Lady, as they call such people, who had dozens of more cats than she could really take care of -- their dirt boxes were filthy and they had to fight each other over the very little food that was given them. So it was that this one small tortoise-shell long hair accosted me out in front of my apartment and screamed at me for food. When I turned around, it ran away, but then as soon as I turned my back, out again it came. It wouldn't let me come, and it wouldn't let me go, but it certainly wanted food. So I got it food. Thus started our friendship, and eventually it was welcomed into my home. I kicked out a screen from one of the windows close by the limbs of a nearby tree, and she was able to come and go as she pleased. We'd sit together and read books or watch TV. Animal Control came and liberated all of the remaining cats from the Cat Lady... their idea of liberation being to take them all to the kennel where they would all be killed -- such is the Humanity displayed by Civil Bureaucratic Governments that deplore inefficient charities and solve such problems with murder.
Anyway, time went on and I got into a Relationship with this rather beautiful woman, at a time in my life when I was still to be tempted by such things. Well, when we first met, she simply loved cats... probably because I simply loved cats. But as she grew more and more certain of our committment, she discovered to me that she was, dispite her great love for the Things, allergic to cats and that if we were to move in together, I must give up my Cat. Well, I thought of all the ways I could provide for her, my cat, without allowing her anymore into my place. I even built her this little fully insulated and heated little dwelling so that she would have a place to go for when I became cold outside. But, I still kept the screen open since me and the lady had not moved in together quite yet.
But then our plans crystalized and we were going to both give up our small places and move into a larger house, and I would be leaving my kitty behind. This was not such an easy idea to get around and I found myself examining the possibility of simply killing her and tossing her into the dumpster -- a quick solution to the problem. OH MY GOD! With just the briefest admission to such a thought it was as though I had a panic attack. That outragious idea shocked me to the core of my being. How could I even contemplate such a thing!?
Earlier I had chased her out of my apartments with a broom, since my girlfriend was becoming more in the habit of dropping by and complaining of her difficulty in breathing. I was scolded for continuing to admit the Cat into the house. Well, when I realized how deeply my feelings subsisted for this cat, I began to wonder whether my feelings were really as equally strong toward my Lady Friend. I began to recall the instances of nagging and those episodes of sideways looks meant to rebuke me for this or that. I began to realize that this Girl Friend had been the nicest as she had been most uncertain of me, but now that she considered me 'hooked' I was becoming something of a pawn in her game. I realized that perhaps I was better off with the Cat then with the Girl. And so I went out and called and called ... offended cats need to be apologized to, sometimes to a very laborious extent... and eventually she came out of her hiding and agreed to come back home. I called the Girl and wished her luck in finding a roomate to help her with maintaining her new larger establishment.
I wish it had worked out better. I think my Ex-lady Friend came by and put out poison for my cat, as it got terribly sick and lingered and died just two months later. So I ended with no cat and no lady friend. But it was just as well. What kind of relationship could I have with a lady who would kill a cat for being a rival?
But the point of this all is that I found that I had a deep and powerful inhabition to committing violence. I recall a simular situation from when I was younger... when I was a child, in fact. I was out throwing stones and saw a rabbit and tossed a stone at it, and, much to my surprise, was horrified when I actually hit the poor thing. Again, it was like a panic attack. Instant remorse and concern for the poor creature.
I think more people then is supposed have strong inhabitions to violence. I suppose this is one of the reasons why the Military has to so strongly encourage and reward instances of manifest violence, because the men, on their own, would be reluctant to kill.
My Grandfather, who had received Awards for Valor in the First World War would speak bitterly of some instances of gratuitous violence, as he saw it, from the memoirs of that War. He told of how much of History conceals a great deal of the Truth, for instance, that Generals often have a great deal of communications with each other -- often communicating better with their opposing numbers than with their own officers. The White Flags would go back and forth all day and night long with all the soldiers instructed not to interfer with their passage. So it happens that the end of some Battles are arranged beforehand in order to minimize casualties and the expenses of War. So General 'Black Jack' Pershing thought it was a fine compromise if General Hindenburg would surrender a Battalion size Regiment every two hours while he retreated back to an agreed upon new line of defense, just at the German borders. So, in accordance with this deal, a Company Size Regiment (everybody lies a little bit... it is understood) would be stripped of its weapons, food, ammo... everything useful to the War Effort... and they would be instructed to wait in place for two hours and then wave the White Flag and surrender. And the Allied Troops were instructed to stand by for such surrenders.
But the American Soldiers themselves were not so civilized. Some climbed up upon hills and used their long hunting style rifles to murder men a half a mile away... men who would be surrendered in less than an hour. One of the greatest "heroes" of the First World War, Sergeant York, walked up to the German Trenches and gunned down the entire company of unarmed men, execution style. They had to make a 'Hero' out of him to preclude the real story getting out -- that battles were largely pre-arranged and that the war was mostly a Political Fiction that sometimes would get out of hand.
But the point here is that my Grandfather was very reticent about his own Awards for Valor, while being very vociferous in maintaining that other similar awards that had been given to others were tantamount to White-Washings for the most terrible atrocities and manifestations of Man's inhumanity against Man. Apparently the violence of the War had deeply traumatized him.
But this was all before the invention of the Video Game, which has largely erased any such inhabitions to violence from the Modern Psyche. Now, in Iraq, the American and British forces easily shoot up homes where somebody moves and blast away at cars full of little families because they crossed the painted line by a forbidden inch or two. You think that spilling all of this innocent blood would make the young men morally wince, but instead, they see it as collecting so many extra points and we down deep inside expect to eventually win a free game.
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