Of Orcas and such

When I first heard the news about the trainer in Florida recently killed by an agitated orca (killer-whale) at some sea-life park down there, my thoughts were:

Why the hell don't they let the poor beast go?

What height of cruelty to take an animal meant by nature to wander the high seas, and force it to spend its life in a cramped tank!

Later, listening to more discussions, I have changed my views a little.

We are told that the orca would have no idea how to live life on its own, having spent its life in captivity. Orcas are social animals, with strong family structures. Without a "pod" of its own, it would be virtually helpless.

So this particular animal endures the lesser of two evils -- captivity but steady food and some degree of social contact with its kind.

Then I thought, well, at least ours will probably be the last generation that even sees these marine mammals in captivity, since it is now illegal to grab them out of the wild.

Then I thought, well, is that a good thing? You cannot love what you do not know. The child who visits a sea life park and sees, up close, in the flesh, one of these powerful and enigmatic animals and feels the salt spray upon his or Her face and hears the mighty creature utter its unique song -- in short, experiences the beast for his or Her self, will never forget it. And chances are, that child will grow up with at least some degree of awe and appreciation and sympathy for the creatures of the deep. Given the chance, they will support marine conservation measures. Perhaps they will think twice about dumping paint down a storm drain.

If a few animals must spend life in captivity for that greater good, perhaps such captivity is not an unmitigated evil.

My Heroine of the day

No, not heroin. That is an opiate distilled from poppy flowers. I'm not into inducing hallucinations. A spicy pizza just before bed will do that to me without the risk of addiction, hep c or jail time.

Heroine. As in, an extraordinary Lady.

Dawn has blogged today about an experience that She had during an ordinary drive. Please spend a minute in Her dog house and tell Her how awesome She is.

She stopped to help some cops save a dog's life, a dog that was running on a highway. A strange dog, possibly not even a friendly dog. To paraphrase hip lingo: Freakin' awesome, dude!

I think about the times that I have stopped to help and the times that I have rationalized and kept going. "It's on the shoulder, it'll probably get home safe, blah, blah, blah."

Once or twice, I've stopped to move an errant turtle, too. Once, I was trying desperately to save a grouchy old snapping turtle near the coast -- hey, they have their place in nature too -- when some bonehead in a UPS truck rolled right past me and ran it over. May that jerk be cursed with irritable bowel syndrome and bad breath for the rest of his thoughtless life.

Perhaps the most uplifting experience I had in this sort of thing was when I pulled into a turn lane on a busy highway and realized that a baby bird was floundering around on the asphalt. I whipped open the door while the light was red and scooped it up and took it to a wildlife rescuer. I hope that it is soaring the skies today as it was meant to do.