I miss my kitty

Sometimes, I have to wonder if I was a card-carrying PETA member in a past life.

Case #1: Mom has this cockatoo named Casper. It occurs to me fairly often to be bothered by the fact that the poor thing has to live in a cage. It's not Mom's fault; Casper has lived in captivity his whole life. He doesn't even understand how to fly, even though his wings haven't been clipped since he's lived at my parents' house. He wouldn't last a day in the wild, so he's sentenced to a life in prison just for being born an exotic bird. This peeves me.

Case #2: I have a slight problem with spaying/neutering. Chris and I were discussing it today. It's not that I disagree with the practice. It's a social necessity. But when you think about it, doesn't it seem sort of archaic and cruel? Sure, us humans can choose to be infertile if we want, but the operative word is choose. Why should any other living thing with an instinctive desire to procreate be denied the option? Yeah, I know why. Because we'd be overrun with cats and dogs and the quality of life of their entire species would decline by virtue of their overpopulation. It's the same reason we have doe season, which, oddly enough, I don't have a problem with. That seems more...fair? Giving them a fighting chance and all? I actually think it's a little silly to adopt a cavalier attitude about not shooting girl deers. It's a population control measure, people, not chivalry. I digress. But oh, the thing some deer hunters do where they get up in their tree stands and drop corn on the ground below them...nah ah. I'll find my own tree stand and put a burger under it, you ass.

Case #3: As the title suggests, I miss my kitty. My kitty lives with my parents, where she stayed after I moved out. Why? Because her kitty sister is my brother's cat, and they've never been separated. I refuse to tear what they have left of a family life apart. Roll your eyes if you want, but the way I see it, two things could happen. One, my kitty's heart could be broken forever over the loss of her only lifelong companion. Two, Sushi will eventually forget all about her sister Ninja, and one day Chris and I will bring Sushi over for a visit, and they'll look at each other like, "Who the hell are you?". Either way, part of me would die inside.

Guys, I promise, I have similar sympathy pains for my fellow man. So see, PETA? You can't have me!