Before 1970, we had to get into my grandma’s attic through a closet hole.  It was a tiny and later forgotten hole once my grandfather built the steep wooden stairs.   This actually came in handy when some were fighting over my grandparents’ estate around 2000, because I was the only one who vaguely remembered the other passage to the hidden secrets. And I climbed into that narrow hole at 8 months pregnant because I get that crazy about injustice to people (and animals), and found what we were looking for. Anyway, the attic had previously been a totally magical place for me. Because that’s where I listened to records. Specifically Bambi records.

going back home

Flashback 1969 or 1970. These records were 78 speed, and I think that they must have originally belonged to my mom. I sang to the Little White Duck along with Burl Ives, but it was Bambi that left me so melancholy. I always thought if I listened again it might turn out differently. I truly hated those hunters from day one, and it has taken me nearly five decades to even begin to understand them. This was my first knowledge of death, and I heard it over and over and over on the records, before I began to even ask someone in my family about it. I don’t think they ever really explained it. Total dead silence. Just like they never acknowledged the ghost in the kitchen (hello mom – that happened!)

Bambi is a not real reflection of present-day romanticized Fort Wilderness, in my view. It has the glory of the talking forest animals and beautiful music – but there is not a perfectly happy ending, like there is in most Disney films.  Was this a message from Walt? A warning, or simply a reminder of our foreboding mortality?

I live in the heart of the redneck south. My kid has a scholarship at Bama.  I live on one of the the best streets in my little town and make the very finest pimiento cheese you will ever eat. But I am a little bit more woodsy than some of those who surround me. I love my neighbors, but I kind of detest their hunting posts on social media. I have a feeling it goes back to Bambi.

I still eat meat, although less than I once did. I feel guilty. Very, very guilty. See I AM messed up.  But then I take pride in making a steak that nobody can match. Nobody. Don’t ask me how to make it because I don’t want to kill anymore animals.  I am very stuck in this strange place.

abby jack russell

In December, a little Jack Russell named Abby was lost in the loops of Fort Wilderness Resort. Her family simply could not catch her, and try not to analyze or blame them – it happens.  Abby became an instant celebrity among the good people of the forest, and two or three truly fine folks (Mother Theresa types) actually made a page about her. That page, and the efforts of one of its members, led to her safety over time, and her eventual capture and release to her much-relieved family.

The important story that should never be lost is about a real-life princess named Donna and a Facebook group (Abby Jack Russell). I don’t know Donna outside of this group. I believe she and her husband are United States military veterans. All is know is that I know a true animal lover when I see one, and you probably know it too. It’s actions, not words.  Donna extended her stay for a week, and took pictures of Abby every single day. Donna is one of those people that you never have to meet in person to know that she is going straight to heaven no matter what she does tonight or tomorrow. It seems that some people didn’t want this story shared. I still don’t know why. You know –  the kind of people whose adjective vocabulary is limited to the word “amazing.” It’s just a few other people – the kind of miserable people who aren’t really that happy when something good happens to someone else.

hello hunter friends

So back to Bambi. Does all of this mean that I loathe the hunter? No, I don’t. I honestly adore most hunters that I know with all of my heart.  But I don’t understand the killing part, and I maybe can’t get it. What I do understand is the call of the wild, and I know exactly why you would sit in a tree stand all day long. You’re getting the same serenity we are paying so much for at Fort Wilderness or on a hike in one of our state parks. You know the woods just as much or more than  I do.  I just wish you would paintball the animal or something.

Happily ever after?

So Abby Jack Russell is on her way home. Her owners finally know all about the fairy godcamper who cared for her for so long, and extended her trip by a week to continue to help. The folks and friends I talked to at Disney were pretty much unaware until about a week ago, but the publicity of the Abby Jack Russell page, and lots of calls to certain people at higher levels made it move to the forefront. Eventually, the Disney team helped Donna capture Abby, and she is healthy and safe. There is a homecoming scheduled for Abby and her fairy godcamper in coming weeks, and most of us will love this next chapter. It’s going to be like a Hallmark movie or a Publix commercial.

What makes me glad today in particular is that the Abby Jack Russell Facebook page will remain open for more pet tales, loves and sorrows.  Bambi lives in our hearts, and so does Abby.

And this is love.

Happy Valentine’s Day