My baby sister is an animal advocate. She volunteers for several Rescues, and is a participant, if not directly responsible, for many animals being placed in loving “furever” homes. I knew how dedicated she was, but I had no idea to what degree until yesterday, when I, unwittingly, became an accomplice.
It happened this way. Baby Sister was driving me home from her dad’s when I mentioned that I saw an elephant on the sidewalk “back there.”
“What?” she said. I repeated my observation. She continued driving…right around the block…and there beside a garbage bin, lay a large gray elephant.
“He’s missing an ear,” I, now in the character of Ms Obvious, stated. The car stopped, Baby Sister got out, scooped up the abandoned creature, and handed her off to me.
“His name is Van Gogh,” I thought, unfortunately, out loud. Hoo-boy.
Baby Sis: We’re crazy.
Me: Speak for yourself.
Baby: You saw him, you named him. (Again, hoo-boy. We are how old?)
So, let’s talk about the elephant in the room. Turns out she is now named Vanna Gogh, and she has been repaired, bathed, and sits in my, yes, living room.
It seems, animal advocacy comes in all manner of forms. And it also seems, I am very much a participant, as well. Who knew?
Look at her. Isn’t she cute?