My 85 year old neighbor, Wilda, is a lively blue-eyed charmer in a permanent Easter bonnet. The other day she was telling me about a pet parakeet she'd had who developed some kind of "shaking sickness," so she put it in a paper bag and took it to her car, turned on the engine and held it over the exhaust.
"It was dead right away," she said with satisfaction.
She smiled dreamily as she recalled how she once killed a cat that way. Her daughter ran over their pet in the driveway as they returned home from an outing.
"It was very much alive," she said, "so we wrapped it in a blanket and held it over the car exhaust." She chuckled. "It was right in front of the house. People must have thought we were killing a baby."
"I don't believe in Heaven and Hell, or God," she continued. "I think when we go, we're just like cats and dogs -- we're garbage. I don't tell many people I don't believe in God, though, because they'll think I'm an Atheist."
Well.
Wilda relates these deeds as if they were normal to one who would do anything to SAVE an animal. Truth is where you stand to look at a thing and it's really true, folks -- you don't have to be young to be a bimbo.
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