On Bias and Project Treadstone
Have you had enough of Project Treadstone yet?
I thought I had pretty much seen it all and learned what I needed to learn. I'm not sure why I thought that, but I did.
When I released Tabby Girl and Fluffy last week I saw a Siamese-ish-looking kitten with gooey eyes and a mussed up coat (not the usual for this cat). She looked sickly and her breathing was labored. The women in the building call this cat Powder Puff and we all assumed she was a she, as she's pretty and fluffy (ridiculous, but true).
Powder Puff was in the newly-fenced in part of the site so it would be difficult to trap her as we cannot get into that part of the site to set a trap. If we did catch her, though, one of the women wanted to take her home and socialize her and keep her. Why Powder Puff? Because she's so pretty.
That bothered me.
When I arrived at the site on Wednesday the women said Powder Puff looked fine and if she were sick she must be better. That was important as I was dreading trapping her because if she had symptoms of, well, anything, she'd be tested, and if she were positive she'd be killed.
Trapper Man snagged a glorious white/gray tabby, Powder Puff, and Otto, the coolest black cat ever (we were allowed three this week!).
It turns out Otto was a girl . . .
Powder Puff was a boy . . .
And Dieci, whom you would think is a girl as she's pretty and fluffy, is in fact a girl.
Otto had a baby inside her and I was told that once under anesthesia, any babies die (which answers last week's question regarding Tabby Girl). And Powder Puff, the women later told me, was an adult (but kitten size) and the woman who wanted to take him knew very well that you don't take an adult feral cat into your home to make into your cuddly pet. The conversation was all about what a shame it was that he was so pretty and everyone just wanted to snuggle with him, but they'd never be able to.
The human preference for creatures that are more attractive (by traditional standards) is disturbing to me. As I walk through my neighborhood, people stop me when I'm with Violet and Charles because they think my dogs are beautiful, and that's an odd feeling. It's as if, like Powder Puff, they are somehow inherently more worthwhile as individuals because of their attractiveness. They are worth saving, worth cuddling with, and they deserve to be out of the cold (or heat). Perhaps most important (to us, apparently, as I doubt they care), is that they are deserving of our affection.
There's something wrong with that.