Among the stuffed animals that occupy this apartment, Gigi (the small black kitten) wishes to have hamster sashimi. Nearly every day imaginary hamsters visit -- Grandpa basil, his daughter (whose name I can't remember at present), and his granddaughter Clarissa -- and Gigi plots evil toward them all, but especially the smallest.
She plots evil against pretty much everybody.
She's a frightful opportunist.
And rather disliked.
When my apartment mate is home, this place is noisy, and filled with drama. My apartment channels for the creatures, whether stuffed or imaginary. It's her way of expressing herself and releasing emotions -- being anti-social and very Aspy, it works for her -- and I play along, because they all have different voices, and distinct personalities with which one must interact.
I do not know how she feels about chickens.
Some people have chickens as pets.
Cue Werner Herzog here.
The other day I mentioned a charming youtube video to a friend, where a family's pet chicken runs down the path everyday to welcome the daughter home from school when the bus drops her off. Jumps into her arms, and showers her with feathered affection.
His response was that the bird, beyond a shadow of a doubt, had focused on the little girl as the tiniest member of the family, and therefore easiest to kill and eat. The chicken was just waiting for an opportune moment.
Sometimes he's grim and nihilistic in his attitude.
I, on the other hand, am brightly positive.
And can see the good in chickens.
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