I think about the lion, Cous Cous, whose life was essentially taken the moment he was locked in a cage for the convenience of those who enjoyed “admiring” him through the bars of his jail cell.
With wild under lock and key, prison warden Dale Anderson sold captivity as one and the same, the price of admission a callous desire to experience a measure of manufactured control.
Comandante Anderson expected Cous Cous to play but not act the part of wild beast, lest that control be lost, which it so quickly was when Ms. Hanson made an attempt to exercise hers.
And for introducing Ms. Hanson to the limits of man’s manufactured control – for daring once more to be wild – Cous Cous was brutally executed by a trigger-happy, jackbooted thug.
While others seek comfort in the answers to all the wrong questions, I’ll mourn the loss of the lion who died again.