17 April 2011


I’m not paranoid. Am I?

The thing is, paranoia implies that the paranoid is delusion. By following this logic, then, it becomes clear that I am not paranoid. Because I know that my anxiety is completely warranted.

I’m talking, of course, about how animals are out to get me.

I tend to be a suspicious person by nature. I think part of the reason for this suspicion is because I know what goes on in my head, and it would be a cause for concern if similar processes are happening on someone else’s.

The thing with animals is that there is absolutely no way of knowing what they are thinking. I don’t even know how they think. I think in words. They may think in demon. I have no idea.

Maybe they can detect my suspicion, and therefore decide to take advantage of my natural jitteriness by confirming that suspicion.

The first incident that I recall of a belligerent animal occurred when I was about five. My mom, my sister, and I were in a supermarket, and being who we were, my sister and I wandered around, exploring the store in the hopes of finding something interesting. In all likelihood, it was candy. Or free samples. Or free samples of candy.

Somehow, we ended up in the fish section. There were live fish everywhere, but they were confined to tanks, so I was not concerned with them. However, there was a tank of live frogs at about my eye level. At this point in my life, I was not quite as cynical as I am today. I made eye contact with one of the frogs. I read quite a bit as a child, and had gotten it in my head that I could form a special bond with an animal and we would be able to communicate telepathically and be best friends forever. As I focused on the moist eyes of my new friend, I decided that not only was it possible to be intellectual best friends with a frog, but that it was literally happening before my very eyes. We understood each other. Or I thought we did.

The frog, however, had different plans. With an enormous ribbit, the little green shit leaped out of the tank toward me. My mother, who was across the store, came sprinting toward me because the scream I emitted resonated with such blood-curdling force that the frog fell back into the tank. Needless to say, friendship terminated.

Following that traumatic experience, I have never again tried to forge a relationship with an animal. I decided then and there that, to avoid getting hurt, I would remove myself completely. To this day, I remain obstinate in my suspicious ways.

Over time, certain animals have gained my trust. But I will never trust a squirrel.


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