Somewhere Tonight
dateline 3/7/00
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Somewhere tonight, a fuzzy kitten sleeps on the pillow next to her master, dreaming of butterflies and playmates and saucers of milk. Somewhere tonight, a woman with sparse white hair and rounded shoulders dozes in a rocker in front of a forgotten television set, her wrinkled hand resting on the elderly cat who sits in her lap, vibrating with love for the woman who holds him. Somewhere tonight, a band of young men, bored and broke, seek out some fun of a different kind, something daring, something they can brag about to their friends.
Somewhere tonight a woman sits in vigil, alone in a cold ditch, with only a blanket, a thermos of coffee and her anger and despair to keep her company. She sits, hoping against, but still waiting for the return of the brute who, last night, beat to death one of the feral cats she feeds. Her name is Susie Bachman and her web site was my Feature of the Week this week. But don't go there tonight. The main page is black; a measure of Susie's grief, rage and fright-- fright for the remaining kitties, fear that they will meet the same end, and rage against the subhuman who committed this evil act. So she sits...and waits...and thinks about little RedBoy, a frightened, timid feral kitty, who in the past two months had learned to trust the humans who had been feeding him. Alas, the embryo of his trust was his final undoing. Somewhere tonight, another woman sits at a computer with tears streaming on her cheeks, frustrated and angry because she can do nothing else tonight but write.So she does. Somewhere tonight.
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