Posted by on Nov 28, 2015 | 8 comments

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You know, right outside my perch on the soft couch is a piazza filled, in the mornings and afternoons, with adolescent anthros. Tall ones, short ones, shy ones, aggressive ones, some with lots of that beautiful hair that the Italians seem to have no matter what age (except for mainly bald men starting around their 20s!—another phenomenon), and these kids are NICE kids. They horse around (whatever that is) and they tell each other jokes and they rib each other and some smoke, but most do not, and they look so damned innocent and young and when I look out on their good humor or sometimes, adolescent angst, whatever that is, and I think, maybe there is hope for the world after all.

Maybe there are enough young anthros in the world, at least in a civilized world, to guide others in getting joy out of life instead of harboring such feelings of hopelessness that they become easy prey for cults and organizations who indoctrinate them to hate.

Maybe.

Maybe in these holidays you’ll turn to your neighbor and give him or her a smile and say something kind and observant and make him or her feel that he or she has been seen by another caring anthro and then maybe that anthro will do the same for yet another anthro and pretty soon there will be new feelings of hope among us and less sadness for our damaged planet.

Just a thought.

I think I’ll sidle up to mama right this minute and tell her how nice she looks when she’s opening up my Purina kibble bag or giving me that delicious malt paste after a nice brushing. I’m going to do that right now.

In a minute.

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When I wake up.

But you don’t have to wait.