And possibly worst of all: "Rose is not cute," says Katz of this dog he obviously loves and depends upon.
"She is a working dog, a farm dog. She herds sheep, keeps the donkeys apart from the other animals during graining, alerts me when lambs are born, watches my back when the ram is around. She battles the donkeys, the ewes who protect their lambs, and stray dogs who approach the farm. She and I take the sheep out to graze two or three times a day. On Sundays, we sometimes march the flock down to the Presbyterian Church to hear the organ music and present ourselves through the big windows. 'Hey, Rose,' the kids sometimes shout after the service is over. With Rose, we don't need fences. As my friend Peter Hanks said, Rose is the fence."
I often wonder if the animal liberators live beneath blankets of sublimated guilt, assuming in their own way the burden of the world's sins. If so, it's an old and time-honored occupation. But rather than flagellate themselves and the rest of us, maybe they ought to be thankful instead. For owning to gross, global abuse of fossil fuels, our humane society can now afford to live without visible dependence on living animals; none needed for transport, protection, long distance communication, bearing loads or busting sod. Or, if you can call it living, for food. Presumably, Wayne Pacelle could still rely on an animal for companionship, although he doesn't; he says he travels too much to justify the keeping of a pet. Safe to say, Wayne travels by burning gasoline.
The rest of us---let's hope the most of us---still want and need the company of animals. Long live Jon Katz's working collie!