Yesterday I left Ottawa.  Or near Ottawa.  I was visiting mammal friends.

I like visiting other practicing mammals because it makes me feel like I belong.  We were discussing that practicing mammals are treated as a subculture of the real culture.  That somehow reproducing and caring for our young in a mammalian manner is noteworthy behaviour.  Like mammary glands are considered  frivolous appendages or, in some cases, a fairly recent innovation in the healthy feeding of our young.

To tell the truth, I sometimes feel a little more at home, or perhaps a little more welcome amongst our barn cats than I do amongst the average citizen.  I have never seen our cats look about for some alternative method of feeding their young, even when they are cats of some means.  They have never looked around for some neat little kitten swing to put their offspring in to get them to be entertained for a while.  

Birthing babies and feeding them is just a matter of course.  It isn’t some radical decision.  Nobody ever says, “hey look, that cat is still nursing its kittens, and they can walk!”  Or, “those kittens are going to sure be dependent on you for a long time if you nurse them until they naturally wean.”  Or, “They are manipulating you, those kittens are, nursing whenever they feel like it.”  Or, “Hey, kitty-cat, you sure like you could really use a break.  Maybe a weekend away with Tom.  I’ll take the kittens for you."

"You need some you time."